Archives for posts with tag: mindfulness matters
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Snap, Crackle, Pop

October 29, 2014 //
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I slept heavily last night and woke with effort to the insistent beeping of my alarm. My joints snap and crunch as I move through my morning routine; I’m stiff and have a headache. I feel vaguely aggravated, but aware that it is all biology, and there’s really nothing ‘wrong’ aside from the simple realities of aging, and paying the price of youthful misadventure. My coffee seemed to go cold as soon as I pulled the shot, which, while irritating, is irrelevant; I swallow the bitter brew in spite of that, preferring to avoid the headache that I could expect later if I chose to dump it out. I suppose I could have started over…

I feel far removed from a sense of contentment.

Yesterday evening was lovely. Dinner out and family time hanging out at home afterward. The evening looked promising for romance, too, but without any real agita it didn’t go that way after all.

I feel restless and annoyed, although there doesn’t seem any real reason for it. Yesterday, too. Hormones most likely, and at the tail end of things there’s no easy way to be certain of that; I just accept what is, and practice good practices, and hope that in simple practices of mindfulness, and continuing to return my attention to what is good and satisfying, I will perhaps let go of what is not with greater ease. Can I learn to be satisfied with less and less of what I think I want and need, until only satisfaction remains, whatever I may actually have?

I feel so human.

In a photograph of flowers it always looks like spring.

Let’s take a moment for something else…

Imagine yourself anywhere at all, right now, doing…something. Whatever you like. No limits. Sink into it. Make it real. Build it in your imagination with words and feelings; you know you can, it’s how thinking works, and most of our experience in based on this, more than what is ‘real’. So. Where are you? What are you doing? I am sitting at a small bistro table, on a pleasant morning, with a very good latte and enjoying the sunshine and flowers of my cottage garden, on the edge of some small friendly village. I’d be relaxing with my partner, conversing about whatever, feeling the breezes and waving to passing neighbors, and maybe sharing a warm scone while we talk about love. At least this morning, that’s where I’d be…some days I yearn for something different. Today I yearn for love, Love, and romance, and a quiet cottage garden.

Today is a good day for honest heartfelt yearning, and also a good day for contentment and satisfaction, and recognizing that what is can be amazing when I am not chasing what isn’t. Today is a good day to seek perspective, and for recognizing it when it is found. Today is a good day to smile in the face of my challenges; life’s curriculum would teach nothing if it were too easy. Today is a good day to accept that the challenges of this day become the strength of character I rest on tomorrow. Today is a good day to take another look at how I see the world.

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Categories Brain Injury, Free Will, Healthy Living, Love, Menopause, Metaphors, Mindfulness, pain, Perspective, Relationships, The Big 5, Words

Self-Service Window

October 15, 2014 //
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Better content.

Better content.*

Mindful service to hearth and home.
Mindful service to community and the world.
Mindful service to self, heart and soul.
Mindful will and wide-eyed wonder.
What would it look like to be the nicest person in the room?
Taking care.

One autumn moment worth pausing for.

One autumn moment worth pausing for.

*What started out simply as notes, taken in passing, sloppily written on the palm of my hand, standing in the cold, became a moment to cherish, to savor, to enjoy fully present…and lacking the words to truly share the moment, I shared the notes instead. 🙂

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Categories autumn, Love, Mindfulness, Relationships, The Big 5, Uncategorized, Words

Autumn Rain, Autumn Morning

October 14, 2014 //
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The heavy clouds last night as I walked home were a pretty sure indicator there would be a little rain in the night, or this morning; that didn’t take a degree in meteorology, for sure.

"Dress appropriately"

“Dress appropriately”

This morning I woke filled with anxiety; I put it to rest with meditation before I went any further with my day. I don’t have a lot of words in my head, this morning, and the sensations of anxiety continue to come and go, connected to nothing obvious, and without identifiable direct cause. I no longer ‘worry’ about that when it comes up; the worrying itself feeds the anxiety, not the resolution of it.

I am eager to head into the rainy morning. There are so many sorts of rain to enjoy. The aquarium trickling quietly in the background masks the sound of rain beyond my window, and stepping out into the morning will be like opening a present; the anticipation, the excitement, and then – what it is. My generally at home partner gives me a good-bye hug before heading to work, herself. My traveling partner and I enjoyed a brief moment, before he opted to return to sleep; it’s very early, still.  I hear doors open, doors close… I have learned, too, not to build stories about my life or the world on the sounds of doors, drawers, cupboards, and footsteps. That, too, helps me manage my anxiety. I used to find myself utterly caught up in the stories I built around all the sounds I could hear in the background, beyond a closed door, in another room, around a corner out of view. To those sounds I would add whatever I could hear of voices, generally just mood, or tone, without words; the narrative I created for myself could drive days of tension, anxiety, fearfulness, insecurity, despondency, agitation… it rarely found its way to building a narrative of love, joy, connectedness, intimacy, or delight. I’m learning to create more positive implicit memory, and in so doing, I am learning to undermine anxiety. It’s powerful.

Simple pleasures, savored, matter so much.

Simple pleasures, savored, matter so much.

Little things, like taking a real break from the work day, stepping outside into the trees for a moment with a friend, to share the discovery of a honey bee hive high up in a tree, and enjoying the late autumn breezes and sunshine, can change the mood of an entire day, or experience, for me. (Your results may vary. Caution: results require more effort than they appear to. Apply verbs liberally.) Little things, like celebrating a fairly silly holiday, in a wholesome and whole-hearted way, and connecting to a larger shared experience in my community has value too. Happy Halloween! What’s it really about for you? For me, Halloween is a strange sort of holiday. In modern times, mostly about costumes, and parties and… what? Is there something more sacred to it? There doesn’t generally seem to be. Hell, mostly it isn’t even scary, however much horror films seem to feature in the festivities. I consider Halloween a sort of cultural ‘whistling in the dark’… perhaps more folks should dress as cops and congressmen? lol

What it is.

What it is. 

So…another day, more to learn, more opportunities to demonstrate good intentions, and make good choices, more chances to communicate clearly, and show someone kindness. Today is a good day for all that and more. Today is a good day to encourage someone in a genuine way, and to give more praise than criticism. Today is a good day to look our limitations in the face and say “you’re not my supervisor!”

Today is a good day to walk in the rain.

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Categories Anxiety, autumn, Brain Injury, Healthy Living, Logic & Reason, Love, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress

A Fonder Farewell

September 18, 2014 //
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This morning is as if it is an entirely different day… oh. Wait…it is. 🙂 It tends to work that way, generally speaking.

Yesterday was challenging, but the evening was lovely and my traveling partner and I hung out, played a favorite game (Carcassone), and conversed. It was connected and fun and gentle on our hearts. I found it a lovely way to prepare for my departure into the trees today. I woke with a smile – way ahead of the alarm, and excited like a little kid. This morning it’s espresso over ice, with a splash of lemonade, as I find myself catching odd ‘nice to have’ items that I had overlooked (pony tail bands…quarters in case I need to contact someone at home…oh hell, phone numbers!…), although I could walk out now with the gear as packed and be ready to go, and have a great time.

My partner observed that I had not either patched my old tent from last time (a young owl landed on it while I sipped my coffee, very early, and when he took flight, he left behind a small tear in the top of the rain fly) nor had I replaced it. I laughed about this tent being 30 years old and only costing $30 (I sure never expected it to last this long!)…which is nearly true. I bought it in 1996 to attend my first Renaissance Fair, so only 18 years old. Still – damned old for a $30 tent. It was 8:30 pm when my partner suggested I just go ahead and replace the tent. By nine I was back from our neighborhood gear shop with an excellent replacement – and instead of heading to the trees in an 18-year-old, worn, torn, one-season tent, I’ll be heading out with a brand new, good quality, 3-season tent that will be far more comfortable. Call me excited, I can barely make myself go to work! lol

So, I sip my iced coffee, go over my gear – before I head out after work, I’ll check the tent carefully to ensure I have all I need, and that I understand the set up. Being compassionate with myself about my TBI means I take extra steps to ensure I understand how gear works in advance. Relying on smarts and experience to push me through new set ups is a poor choice; I can do it, but my stress level regarding the emotion of frustration, specifically, isn’t something I want to put myself through if I can make better choices.

Being compassionate with myself – and my  partners – also means I give myself time, and room, and permission, to let go of what hurts, trust that I am loved and able to love in return, and accepting that the limitations I do have can be enormously frustrating for people who love me, and that’s entirely understandable. We’re all doing our best around here, and although sometimes it doesn’t feel ‘good enough’, it really always is.

So. Here I go. A more pleasant launch point for a weekend of stillness in the forest. See you in a few days!

The storm clouds of the moment are so quickly swept away in some moment that follows. I am still learning to make room for change, and to trust love.

The storm clouds of the moment are so quickly swept away in some moment that follows. I am still learning to make room for change, and to trust love.

Today is a good day for adventure. Today is a good day to trust my heart. Today is a good day to enjoy smiles, laughter, and hugs good-bye. Today is a good day to take a step back from the troubles of the world, and from the chaos and damage within. Today is a good day to change.

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Categories autumn, Brain Injury, Free Will, Healthy Living, Love, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Oregon Trails, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Relationships, The Big 5

Let the Evidence Show

September 15, 2014 //
1

My mind is a little slow this morning, and still catching up to my body. I’m awake, but my routine is thrown a bit off by challenges with falling asleep last night; it ended up a short night, and I’m groggy this morning. I’ve made a quad espresso which I’ve rather unceremoniously dumped over a tall glass of ice.

After meditation, and yoga, and before I got to this point here, sitting in front of the keyboard, I took time to give myself a manicure. It was necessary because it is Monday and my hands were just…awful. Paint still under my fingernails and one of my nails broken at a jagged angle – how did I not notice that? I couldn’t go to work with my hands looking like that, it would have eventually launched old nail-biting habits. I find doing my nails very relaxing, and it requires a certain mindfulness to do well. I don’t mind going to work bearing evidence of being an artist…but the colors didn’t go with my sweater. 😉

What follows are some words about domestic violence, which are relevant to my own history. It’s not graphic, but it only seems fair to mention this is the direction my words have gone this morning.

"The Tracks of My Tears" 12" x 20" acrylic on canvas w/glow and googly eyes.

“The Tracks of My Tears” 12″ x 20″ acrylic on canvas w/glow and googly eyes. 2014

When I was much younger, welcoming my partner home was fraught with terror, anxiety, panic and dread; I spent every moment I could combing our residence for any evidence of ‘wrong doing’ that might get my violent partner’s attention, and cleaning frantically right up until I heard footsteps approaching the door.  All these years later, I still find some urge lurking in the background to check everywhere/everything looking for stuff to ‘fix’ before my partners return home.  I am a survivor of domestic violence. I wept reading so many recent #whyIstayed tweets online, and news articles as the nation finally seems to wake up to what a big issue domestic violence actually is. Healthy tears. I survived. I got out. I waited ‘too long’ and my psyche bears the scars for that choice.  Although some portion of my PTSD is military in nature, by far the vast majority of it is related to relationship violence, and sexual trauma; domestic living with other human beings, for me, is a veritable minefield of triggers.

There’s no substitute for getting out of a dangerous or toxic relationship. There is more often than not no resolution for domestic violence other than getting the hell away from the violent person. Human beings can change, and they do, but the stark and frightening truth is that it isn’t likely to happen in the context of the already violent relationship that exists. Having said all that, I have found that mindfulness practices make healing and getting from surviving to thriving much more likely. It hasn’t been an easy journey, and I’m not across the finish line yet; I may spend a lifetime repairing the damage domestic violence has done to my heart, my spirit, my cognition, my comfort with others, my feeling of safety in my home and my relationships, and my willingness to tolerate specific words, phrases, gestures, or circumstances. It can’t be easy on people who choose to live with me.

If you are struggling with domestic violence and reading these words, please, take care of you. Whatever that takes. You matter. Don’t tolerate poor treatment, you deserve better. It is safer to walk away than to stay.

If you are violent, and acting out physically on a partner (or really, any other human being) because you feel ‘provoked’ or ‘entitled to’ or ‘because they…’ – the world is sick of your bullshit. Please stop. It’s not okay and you have no right to lash out at another human being in anger with physical force. Ever. At all. No provocation justifies domestic violence. Not anything. Not ever. Not at all. Please get help; you are the bad guy. Please stop hurting people. You have no right. It’s not okay. (Strangely, I find it hard to imagine anyone who is violent being a regular reader…but…there’s a lot in the world I just don’t know, or cannot fathom.)

I got out. I survived. I moved on to other not-so-bad relationships, and eventually to a really good one. I made choices. We have choices. There are always choices. Making them isn’t easy, but making choices matters. Choice is where our power lies.

"Awareness" 8" x 10" acrylic on canvas w/glow. 2014

“Awareness” 8″ x 10″ acrylic on canvas w/glow. 2014

Today is a good day to choose change. Today is a good day to respect ones self. Today is a good day to take care of me. Today is a good day to change the world.

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Categories Anxiety, Art, art and the artist, Brain Injury, Free Will, Healthy Living, Love, Mindfulness, pain, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Relationships, Sleepless Nights, women
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