Archives for posts with tag: mindfulness matters

I woke this morning, too early, because biology said so; I had to pee. I wanted very much to go back to sleep, even though I knew the alarm would go off in less than an hour. It mattered less that I might not sleep more, than it did to honor my desire to do so. I snuggled up in the warmth of the blankets, and let myself drift off, favoring meditation if sleep didn’t come. Sleep didn’t come. Anxiety did, though. Like a blast through my relaxed near-dream consciousness, like a bucket of ice water on a challenge I didn’t volunteer for, like a pit in a pitted cherry in a particular good bite of pie, my anxiety surged very suddenly, and without obvious cause. Amusingly, I ‘heard’ a distant imagined voice, calm and professional, my own, in the background “please do not panic…” and smiled as I comfortably shifted my body to a more open position, and focused on my breathing. The anxiety quickly dissipated, lacking anything to feed on, and I continued to meditate until the alarm went off, and then for a couple of moments afterward; reacting to the alarm often starts my day badly, for some reason, perhaps some association with the word ‘alarm’, itself, and I often take a couple of minutes to breath and relax before I rise.

Like any muscle, my will becomes stronger (and healthier) the more I exercise it. Practicing good emotional and physical self-care pays off over time, although initially I wasn’t really  certain that such small changes would ‘matter’. Isn’t that the thing though? If I had insisted for myself that small changes, better practices, and that really committing to the practices that feel good to me were of no value – or no lasting value – or that I ‘won’t be able to make that work’, I most assuredly would have achieved what I was certain of – they wouldn’t have been of much value. Don’t get me wrong on this one, I am not decrying the value of empirical evidence, or sneezing on the standards of proof in science. I am suggesting that it is rather obvious, regardless what can be proven effective, that we have the power to render the most effective treatment worthless by undercutting our will, or by defining our successes as failure, or simply by choosing to identify the outcome as ‘not working’. This is not a matter of ‘faith’ – because the things I am practicing are not ‘faith-based’ practices. Like any practices, if I don’t actually practice them, they will not be effective – it is my choice to apply myself, to enact my will, to see change manifest because I choose it. There are verbs involved…but there is also acceptance, and awareness involved.

Tree of Life, Tree of Knowledge... or just a tree? You choose.

Tree of Life, Tree of Knowledge… or just a tree? You choose.

Why am I on about this today? For a friend, actually. It seems he has lost his will, and is surviving life on his ‘won’t’ instead. It sucks to see him suffer – worse still, it sucks to see him not only choose suffering, but to invest heavily in the continuation of suffering as though the suffering itself has great value, or is the desired outcome. Hell, maybe it is. He does get to choose. I feel both sympathy and compassion for his struggle; I have my own such moments. Maybe we all do, now and then. We each make our choices. There are verbs involved. Our results vary. We are each having our own experience. The map is not the world. The journey is the destination.

My friend has been exposed to all these ideas, himself. He has a lot of people who support and encourage him (although he often doesn’t recognize or acknowledge it). He very specifically enacts his ‘won’t’ at many decision-making points, and defines many moments as failures, accepting that there is no possible good outcome available to him. He often makes a point of limiting his perceived options, and holds onto life-goals that appear specifically chosen to be as far out of reach as possible, while firmly refusing himself any opportunity to see more of life’s potential. It makes my heart ache to see him suffer…and it confuses me to see that it is willful, and so carefully crafted. I am powerless to help – because these are his choices to make, and he makes them. Another lesson on attachment, perhaps, and a reminder that some of my own self-inflicted suffering is a matter of choosing (poorly) to find myself responsible for someone else’s self-inflicted suffering by assigning myself some portion of the task of alleviating that suffering. It doesn’t work that way with self-inflicted suffering; only the self can choose to let that one go.

The loveliness of life is not visible so easily if my eyes are closed; knowing this may not be enough to decide to open my eyes. That's how choice works.

The loveliness of life is not visible so easily if my eyes are closed; knowing this may not be enough to decide to open my eyes. That’s how choice works.

Today is a good day for good self-care, and for loving the being of light that inhabits this fragile vessel. Today is a good day to be compassionate. Today is a good day to consider more than the obvious options, and choices that didn’t make the first list. Today is a good day to be open to success, and to accept failure as an opportunity to learn and grow. Today is a good day to love, and to put myself at the top of my own agenda. Today is a good day to change the world within.

I am enjoying a lovely quiet evening. It is very different from what I may have expected – a good lesson in letting go of attachment to expectations. It is also very different from I might have planned; having not made specific other plans, those thoughts are irrelevant – the very essence of thought: lacking substance or reality of its own, but seeming unarguably valid. Certainly, the evening is different from what I may have said I wanted, had I been asked, and again the thought lacks relevance, circumstances being what they are; pleasantly calm, quiet, and solitary. Funny that such a quiet evening of contentment and study wasn’t higher on my list of possible desirable evenings… I consider wondering why it wasn’t, but quickly realize that what matters is to enjoy it as it is, without criticism or judgment, and to trust that practicing being accepting of, and kind to, myself on a quiet evening requires no excuses, justification, or defense.

I have my challenges. I find myself struggling to let go of attachment. I have a loyal, kind, and generous nature that leaves me open to exploitation, too tolerant of poor treatment, and with a brain injury that limits my ability to set firm boundaries, or reliably communicate clearly in the moment. It seems strange to admit it so simply; I have refused to acknowledge these traits for so long, out of shame for being weak and broken. I have been hesitant to be vulnerable out of fear of leaving myself open to ridicule. I could be kinder to myself, and benefit greatly from it. I still have a lot to learn, and much to practice.  Hard, too, is the inevitable discovery that things I enjoy in myself, and qualities I choose to nurture because I value them, may not be similarly valued by others; it requires strength and persistence to choose me, and to show myself the loyalty, kindness, and generosity that is so much who I am.

Where does this path lead? I am in unfamiliar territory.

Where does this path lead? I am in unfamiliar territory.

The path to emotional self-sufficiency seems also to be the path to The Art of Being, and a path that speeds to creative freedom, satisfaction, and a less chaotic day-to-day experience. More choices, fewer reactions. More day-to-day calm. More likelihood that I will be able to meet my needs over time.

…Here’s the thing, though, at least for me; my choices really matter, and it is critical that they be made again, and again, and again, even when I am uncertain of the outcome, or experiencing insecurity or doubt. It’s how practice works, and there’s no short cut; I still have to do the verbs. I don’t always get the outcome I’m after…sometimes that seems to matter, at least long enough to blow my heart off course, sometimes it doesn’t matter at all. So…it’s not without effort, or failure; I fall, I get up, I go again…I learn, I grow. I gain perspective, and try again. It’s enough.

Tonight, I make good choices; I complete a project I committed to, and spend the rest of the evening in gentle solitude, enjoying my own company, my own moment…also, very much enough.

A lovely sunny spring day becomes a quiet somewhat chilly spring night. That, too, is enough.

Yesterday was fantastic, end to end. There isn’t much more to say about it; it was that rare and lovely day without one flaw or noteworthy challenge. Celebration-worthy, and certainly worth the pleasure of lingering on the recollection for a few quite moments this morning, before moving on.

There was something about yesterday that felt ‘filled with light’, and around midday I couldn’t continue to gaze at the sunshine out the window – I took my lunch break on the move, intending initially to ‘get lunch’,  and quickly found that what I wanted most was simply to walk in the sunshine, unfettered by expectations, or purpose. Seemed harmless enough; I indulged myself, to my own great delight, and the entire resulting day unfolded like a lovely flower.

I took a path that was new to me, and found myself in a lovely place.

I took a path that was new to me, and found myself in a lovely place.

The sensation of remoteness and of stillness must have come along with me; this is no wilderness.

The sensation of remoteness and of stillness must have come along with me; this is no wilderness.

I didn't have to travel far to find delight in the day, I only needed to allow the feelings to make a home in my heart.

I didn’t have to travel far to find delight in the day, I only needed to allow the feelings to make a home in my heart.

Beauty doesn't have to be fancy, or rare, and doesn't require much in the way of 'work'; like change, beauty is.

Beauty doesn’t have to be fancy, or rare, and doesn’t require much in the way of ‘work’; like change, beauty is.

Each flower opens in its own season.

Each flower opens in its own season.

In the distance, the world - and the office.

In the distance, the world – and the office.

For the small price of an hour of my time, and less than two miles of walking distance, I return to the work of the day refreshed, recharged, renewed, and feeling wholly capable and competent, and wrapped in love. A bargain. Seeing so much loveliness so near to where I will soon be living fills me with enthusiasm to greet change as a friend and companion, and motivates me to stride with great purpose toward a future that nurtures me, heart and soul. There are choices involved, verbs to enact, planning to be done – and to enjoy (because I do enjoy the planning). There are sunny days to enjoy, and more long walks on paths I have not yet explored, still ahead of me.

Today is a good day to enjoy standing in the light. Today is a good day to walk away from the darkness. Today is a good day to change the world.

“We are each having our own experience.”

...Stormy weather.

…Stormy weather.

I don’t actually remember, now, where it was I first heard that specific sentence, carrying the significance it now does. A book I read? My therapist? My traveling partner? I hang on to it on mornings like this one. Maybe you have them, too? Those mornings that begin well… I mean, really really well…then unexpectedly slide sideways on some icy emotional sidewalk? Yeah. Those suck. At least…they suck in the moment that I feel the good morning slip out from under me, stranding me in some very real, very challenging emotional moment of some entirely other variety.

Afterwards, sometimes days, sometimes hours, I often find that I’ve learned something important about someone who matters to me a great deal. It’s worth noting that I only seem to have these experiences with the people in my life who do matter most to me. That’s meaningful…but for now it generates only questions, and most of those are not of the useful sort.

Growth can be a lonely process.

Growth can be a lonely process.

I am continuing to re-read The Four Agreements. More studying, really. I find immense value in some of the simple concepts within this small, humble book. It’s on my kindle, but I am reading it from a bound book, to feel the weight of it in my hands, and connect with the experience in some more physical way, somehow. This morning, “Be impeccable with your word” rang out in my consciousness in conversation, and supported me; I was able to be more simply honest about my experience than I am often able to do without seriously escalating emotionally. Learning to let go of the sensation of ‘not being heard’ in order to speak freely, regardless, has challenging moments. There is balance and perspective to learn here, too. There are opportunities to learn to soften my tone, and choose words with care – still respecting my experience, and sharing it frankly, and simply. That isn’t always well-received – and it isn’t ever going to be ‘always well-received’, because we are each having our own experience; there may be things about what I have to say about mine, that are not a comfortable fit for someone else’s understanding of their own.

Those complicated mismatches between individual experiences, perspective, emic realities, maps – hell, even vocabularies and context – push another of The Four Agreements to the forefront this morning, “Don’t take anything personally.” It’s hard to be simpler than that. I am having my own experience, understood solely with my own understanding, filtered entirely through my own filters, limits, beliefs, and assumptions. I find myself wondering if all conflict, everywhere, comes down to one attempting to convince another to adopt an experience that is not shared… ‘just because’. Does the reason matter? Life and love are not a race to be won, or a competition in which someone ‘comes out on top’, or a battle… I guess, unless you’re in battle. At this point in life, my lack of interest in ‘being right’ sometimes sets me up to cave to pressure, rather than simply being.  That’s complicated. If I defy who I am to yield to someone else’s idea of who I am, or what I have said, I will neither be heard, nor will I be who I am. Strange puzzle.

This moment. Just this one, right here.

What about this moment? Just this one, right here.

You are not the person I think you are. You are who you are. I am not the person you think I am. I am who I am. Suddenly, this morning’s sturm und drang pulls the nature of attachment, and the gift of acceptance into focus. My irritation passes, and I feel more able to treat myself kindly; being poorly understood sucks. Being dismissed or rejected sucks, too. Feeling hurt over those things is still more suckage… but here’s something that doesn’t suck; being poorly understood isn’t about me, and there may be occasions when however clearly I express myself, the message is not wanted, and will not be heard. So not about me. Being dismissed or rejected? I guess I could take that personally – I’m pretty cool to hang out with – but why put myself through that? Choice is what it is, and there is no obligation for someone to choose me, in any moment, of any day, in any relationship. Free will being what it is, it makes sense to feel quite wonderful to be chosen – but probably healthiest to utterly disregard rejections, beyond moving on to other things with my time; there is no requirement that I be chosen, ever. Suddenly, feeling hurt dissipates, and I am free, myself, to choose.

Still, it’s not the morning I faced with such eagerness. That’s more than a little disappointing. I can choose, too, to invest in that disappointment, nourish it, grow it, and let it take over my day, filling my heart with resentment, and hurt feelings… or not. I think this morning I choose ‘not’. There’s a whole day ahead of me, with unknown delights that could so easily be missed if I am weeping in my coffee over someone else’s experience.

Each moment has its own beauty, its own significance, and its own worth.

Each moment has its own beauty, its own significance, and its own worth.

Today is a good day to enjoy my experience, and create compassionate space for others to similarly enjoy theirs, without taking personally the choices they make. Today is a good day to breathe deeply, to smile, and to notice that I am okay right now.

I like the sound of the phrase ‘The Art of Being’. I find something contained within those simple words that hints at more than the practical details of practicing practices and the slow pace of incremental change over time; it suggests nuances of self and experience that exist beyond the logistics of resources and effort in practices. As lovely as it sounds, however, the Art of Being remains tangled up in practices that need practicing. As with being an amazing singer, or gifted artist, perhaps, the beauty of raw talent is a wonder that holds potential to be further improved upon with skill, craftsmanship, and experience…all things that come from practice, and possibly some coaching or education.

Sorting out ‘art’ from ‘science’, and taking those next steps from talent (or good fortune) to skill and craftsmanship, to design and engineering, is an experience of its own. It is the journey from awareness to real understanding. From “I’m doing it!” to “Of course, I’ve got this.” From asking questions to… understanding, or at least to the threshold of building real understanding. To be clear, I am still asking questions, and still approaching my circumstances and experience with a beginner’s mind in every  moment that I remain mindful to do so; there are still practices involved, still requiring verbs, will, and choice.

I am rereading the Four Agreements; a worthy starting point on any journey of self.

I am rereading The Four Agreements; a worthy starting point on any journey of self.

For me, now, the ‘art’ in The Art of Being speaks to an increased level of ‘ease’ within myself, and how I approach my experience moment-to-moment. It implies a heightened level of acceptance, of self-compassion, and self-appreciation. It implies a reduction in assumptions, expectations, and attachment resulting in an increased level of calm, contentment, and even merriment. I expect to find that someone skilled in The Art of Being will be emotionally self-sufficient, accepting of themselves and not inclined to take the emotions or experience of others personally, and to be so without doing emotional harm to others thoughtlessly or by intention.

I feel a bit as I do out on a long hike, checking my map for significant landmarks, intersections, places I’d like to stop, or turn toward another direction…I’ve got my eye on the next turn, the next goal, and the signpost I am looking for reads ‘The Art of Being’. I’m not discontent on this path so clearly marked ‘Practicing the Practices’, and it is an important part of my journey. This is, however, a journey; there is more life to live, more ground to cover.  I am my own cartographer, and I am placing an ‘x’ on this particular spot…right over…here. The Art of Being seems a good direction to head, a worthy goal, and a good place to find myself farther along the way. This is not a journey about destinations as much as it is about steps, and continuance, and walking on…

Taking time to consider the journey, to rest, to observe, to enjoy, all have value of their own; there is no need to rush life.

Taking time to consider the journey, to rest, to observe, to enjoy, all have value of their own; there is no need to rush life, now is lovely.

One of the challenges for me day-to-day is remaining committed to the practices that seem most effective, and not allowing myself to become distracted by old patterns, ineffective programming, and moments of distress caused by the clash between historical expectations and change over time. It is almost inevitable in the context of relationships that (because we are each having our own experience) I may occasionally feel a bit like some mysterious quantum particle – I’m not quite in the place I’m expected to be, as a person, but it isn’t obvious ‘where I’m at’ until a specific outcome is observed – but having made the observation, I may have already moved on to better things by way of that very observation, itself. Similarly, I may have a sense that I’ve ‘come so far’, only to observe that in some moment, the incremental change is far smaller than anticipated, at least right then. It’s hard to keep up with, myself. I continue to practice the practices that are most effective, and I am learning to set aside the expectations altogether and give myself a break from constant criticism, and demands, and enjoy the journey in my own good company.

I am using my current search for a live/work space to promote deeper understanding of where I am in life, now, as well as putting focus on ongoing challenges with attachment; investing willfully in my own needs feels powerful, and provocatively hints at growth to come, in an environment uniquely suited to me. Although it feels ‘overdue’, I don’t allow myself criticism of the relevant decision-making that put it off so long; each of those decision-making points in life have been important, and each one handled in the way that seemed best at the time, based on my understanding of events, and of self, in that moment. Regret and bullying myself over past choices drives stress, feeds attachment, and continues the sort of self-defeating beat down that impedes clear thinking in the present. Besides – I deserve better than that from me. When I treat myself badly, I also make it much more difficult to treat others well.

The weekend was pretty good. I enjoyed it a great deal. I had a couple challenging moments yesterday, both missed opportunities to more skillfully manage my emotional experience, and to more clearly express myself, both very illustrative of how much further there is to go on this journey, and how much value there is in love. Wonderfully, they were both moments, and moments pass, in fact – in the case of yesterday, both challenging moments passed by like spring showers, and didn’t linger. Progress.

There is more to do, and farther to go. There is life is to be lived, and there is pleasure to be enjoyed, and further progress to make. There is a woman I love, to smile at in the mirror. I’ve got practices to practice as I continue down this path, on my way to The Art of Being.