Archives for posts with tag: mindfulness matters

The Most Important Thing Right Now

June 30, 2014 //

I woke feeling a sense of urgency-not-quite-dread that nearly launched me from my bed at high speed, and that my always helpful brain tried to frame up as ‘feeling purposeful’ straight away, no doubt to keep me moving along productively. My alarm woke me, which is rare. Rarer still, it didn’t wake me immediately, and the strident beeping was likely what caused me to wake in overdrive. Even after stopping myself, slowing down, doing some calming breath work and yoga, I got through my morning routine to the point at which I have coffee and email in front of me in an impressive 13 minutes. (No, I didn’t ‘time it’, I just checked the clock when I grabbed my coffee.) I’m not celebrating that as any sort of achievement; I’m not in the Army, there is no urgent crisis requiring timely action this morning, and I am not ‘running late’. In fact… I may never be ‘running late’ ever again…

I do have a ‘complicated relationship with time’. That’s how I’ve framed up my issues with it, lately. Before I started down the path of being more mindful and taking care of me, I referred to it as ‘The Time Thing’. It was a very big, very ugly, very problematic deal with me. Being late, especially if caused through no action of my own, and unavoidably circumstantial, could set me off on a screaming tirade, real fury and rage, on this utterly inappropriate level that isn’t really describable with words. I wore, at one point in my late 20s, multiple wrist watches, carefully set to the same time. I was quietly compulsive about time and timing, and any suggestion that a work task was particularly time-sensitive could set me off taking time & motion data for days until I stripped the task down to its most pure elements, and mastered the timing completely for a more predictable experience.

Yep. I have a complicated relationship with time. It hasn’t been as bad as all that for a long while, but planning things remains pretty critical to my every day experience, and although I’m damned adaptable in the face of plans deviating from reality – because they nearly always do – I still experience pretty significant stress from small things like being a few minutes late. (I’m salaried, but in spite of that I walk into the office each day at a very predictable time, with little deviation, quite as a matter of practice, rather than effort.) Many of my other behaviors around habits, routines, and productivity build off my issues with time, and timeliness.

I may be done with that. (I may not be.) This morning, over my coffee and my Facebook feed, someone linked an article with a headline that caught my attention. “The Day I Stopped Saying Hurry Up” I rarely expect an article to resonate with me on this level. We lose so much when we hurry. Why do I keep doing it? Why all the stress over a moment in time that is not now? Isn’t the first most important thing right now always right now, itself? Find my moment? I’m standing on it. Suddenly, I feel so free. Has the burden of Time been that heavy for so long? I’m not saying I want to be late for work, but I think I’m okay with leaving late, early, or at some moment on the clock that isn’t pre-selected.

Taking a moment to observe and experience life unplanned, unscripted, and unafraid is worth ‘being late’; it is living life.

…And I’m okay with enjoying this feeling and not analyzing it more.

Progress, moment by moment, day by day, like a flower blooming its own way, in its own time.

I enjoy planning things. Learning the how-to of not over-investing in a specific outcome releases planning from its future job assignment of ‘driving stress’, too, and leaves the fun of planning with the planning, allowing anticipation to be a lovely enjoyable experience all its own. I enjoy anticipation. I dislike disappointment. The only thing connecting those experiences is attachment to an outcome. Learning to plan without attachment to the outcome is an interesting exercise in mindfully balancing past experience with potential experience, and preparing for what could be, while enjoying what is. I’m obviously still thinking about attachment, and clinging, and how much I lose when I let go of ‘now’ and immerse myself in what isn’t, more than what is. I’d like to become very skilled at letting go of attachment, and still loving, still feeling, still exploring compassion and joy.

Each ‘now’ moment is so incredibly precious.

Another work week begins. The weekend was not without its highs and lows. I could be unhappy that I didn’t go hiking yesterday… or delighted that I had such a lovely quiet Sunday and got so much done, and enjoyed my leisure time in other ways; the Farmer’s Market, a pleasant walk, Chinese food for dinner. I could be blue because of some mistake or misstep or other, and bemoan my essential humanity and how much work it takes to do my best and be this amazing woman I am becoming…or I can celebrate the being and becoming of this amazing woman I am growing to be over time, and the unspeakable joy life sometimes brings me now. I could fuss frustratedly that the moments of love and connection with my partners are so few some days…or be grateful to love so well, and be loved in return, when so many don’t have that opportunity at all, through circumstances, or the choices they make. Perspective matters.

So many opportunities, so many decision-making moments, making choice about time can be very limiting. Today is a good day to choose ‘now’.

Today is a good day for a fresh start. Today is a good day for choices that meet my needs over time. Today is a good day for acceptance, compassion, and kindness. Today, the most important thing is right now.

Tags are we on time?, be here now, check the time, choose your moment, experience, let's get the timing right, mindfulness matters, moving with purpose, on time and under budget, OPD, ptsd, running late, take your time, taking time for flowers, TBI, The Big 5, there is no hurry, there is only now, Time and timing, timeliness, we've got to make it on time, what time is it?

Categories Anxiety, Brain Injury, Healthy Living, Love, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Relationships, The Big 5, women, Words

One for You

June 26, 2014 //

Good morning – or afternoon, or evening – I hope that the moment you find yourself in feels comfortable and that you are content, if not generally, then at least right now.

Yes, you.

This post is for you. Each of you, all of you, any of you. Because you are reading these words. Because you stopped by just this once to check out this blog, for some reason, today. Because you’ve bookmarked it and read it often. Because you clicked a link to my blog from a comment on some adult blog, figuring on more of the same, and instead of being disappointed, you’ve come back a few times to read more. Because you don’t even know me, and find value in sharing some piece of my experience anyway. Because you do know me, you know me well, and you quietly read each post, rarely speaking up to make a comment or observe a detail, or offer a helpful suggestion, understanding perhaps that there is a fundamental loss of privacy happening, between you and me, when I write and you read – and knowing me, you understand how vulnerable and raw that may actually feel. Because you know me, not as well as you’d like, and you remain curious and fascinated, and enjoy the vicarious ‘insider information’ that occasionally feels like you know so much more about me now. Because you’re a troll or a spammer, out there doing your thing, and some one time, some one post, actually touched you – you’re still spamming me, but you made one pleasant, sincere, heartfelt comment that even had good spelling and grammar. Because you are you, and you are reading these words, long after some little joke of mine has begun to wear thin, or some metaphor has finally be over-worked to death.

This post is for you. Thank you. That’s really it, just a thank you. I kept a journal for years, you see, and although I write nearly compulsively, and often find I ‘don’t get it’ until I see something in words, I found myself drowning myself in the very words I love so much, and writing endlessly the damaging ruminations and negative thoughts I was stuck on. I wrote volumes. This is the simplest truth, I know; they are stored in a bin or two in the attic, save for some small number that have more meaning, or capture an important time of change. Those sit unread on a bookshelf by my bed, in case I need to ‘check myself’ about who I was then, or what events seemed to be about at that time. As 2012 drew to a close, and I approached my 50th birthday, my whole experience sort of crashed in around me and I found myself mired in pain and doubt and regret, and frankly unsure that continuing to live had any value at all. I didn’t really discuss that detail of my experience with anyone. I tried once or twice, and it was quickly apparent that I wasn’t getting anywhere, or making a connection.

Writing in my journal wasn’t helping me, anymore, and I was no longer sure my writing had value of any kind, or any purpose, or have anything of interest to any person. I was quietly planning to ‘check out’. Then… life went from bad to worse. It was all pretty subjective – the factual details of my experience of everyday life just weren’t particularly ‘bad’, not even a little. It was my emotional experience, my personal, subjective, internal experience of ‘self’ that had finally just caved in. I started this blog then, aware at the time that these could be the last things I had to say, to share, and for me that meant that doing my best to make them ‘worthy’ and genuine and real was important to me. This blog ended up being a big piece of ‘saving my life’.

This is no longer a salvage operation. I’m building on the best of who I am learning to be, and taking those tools, and experiences, and each day working to be just a bit better at being me, at being the best of me, that I can. You’re part of that. Thank you.

Why am I saying ‘thank you’ today? Because you thanked me first. Yesterday was an interesting day for that. I got a flurry of emails about a particular post, and it happens now and then, and this particular flurry of grateful and appreciate words felt so warm and nurturing – not saying thank you would be rude. Thank you for caring how I am doing. Thank you for finding value in my observations on life, and my commentary on my challenges, my growth, my progress, and life’s curriculum. It’s an amazing journey, and it matters to me that we’re sharing it.

I hope your today is a success – however you define it – and that your choices are wise and support your needs over time. I hope today the challenges seem less challenging and more rewarding, and that you take a chance on you. You deserve the best you have to offer. You matter. Thank you for reading my blog.

Like a potted rose slaking its thirst on a gentle rain; I’m grateful.

Tags a good day for gratitude, a powerful prescription, experience, have camera will travel, heal thyself, it's about the journey, life saving procedures, mindfulness matters, ptsd, taking care of me, TBI, thank you, thriving, walking my own path, what a long strange trip

Categories Brain Injury, Healthy Living, Love, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Relationships, Roses, Summer, The Big 5, Turning 50, women, Words

Feet Up, and a Nice Cup of Tea

June 22, 2014 //

3.43 miles of steep, sometimes muddy, narrow trails clinging to hillsides, and an early start on the first day of summer; this morning’s hike followed me home in pictures, and recollections of scents, birdsong, and that certain glint of unexpected sunlight reflected into my eyes off glossy summer foliage. It was a worthy choice that tested my fitness and my awareness moment-to-moment. The air was fresh, and although audible in the distance now and then, the world was so remote as not to be a bother, certainly no distraction from the gentle ‘now’ of a summer morning on a narrow and steep trail.

I am aware of the steps I take, and the path I am on; I am unsure of the destination.

I’m home. Showered. Relaxing with some reading, a nice cup of tea, and some quiet time to meditate. As I recall, I am also doing laundry, but it is such a small piece of my experience today, it is easy to overlook the small obligations to mundane future needs.

If someone were to ask me to provide a template for a lovely Sunday, today would be a good choice. I’d say more…the feeling of it is so incredibly peaceful and lovely it rises to a level that wants to be explained, and explored…but not at the risk of damaging this delicate, tender now, so infused with contentment, satisfaction, and serenity. There are metaphors aplenty in the pictures, and my one moment of regret is that my camera does not also capture the scents of fresh, and green, and dawn, and fragile wildflowers, along with birdsong, and chuckling creek tumbling merrily over rocks and snags, rushing madly to find a calm, still place, too.

My journey continues, a step at a time, and plenty of opportunities to be grateful for a clear path ahead.

Taking a moment for a flower, and a moment for loveliness - when is there not time for beauty?

I take a moment for a flower, and a moment for loveliness – when is there not time for beauty?

…And time, too, for small mysteries, and a bit of fun?

I value the chance to see things in a new light.

Or to change my perspective on something small…

Open to the possibility of the unexpected, the unusual, and the wonderful.

I happily trade in the noise and fuss of ‘the world’ for the knowing chuckle of a creek, and the cheeky commentary of birds and squirrels, for a handful of happy hours.

So, pictures, and just these few words. Today is a good day to chill, to smile, and to share joy.

Tags audubon society park, be prepared, Collins Sanctuary, do no harm, gear up!, hike, in the trees, mindfulness matters, ptsd, stay on the path, step away from the world, taking my feet to the next level, TBI, Uhtoff Sanctuary, walk it off soldier

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

Walk It Off, Soldier

June 21, 2014 //

How often have I suffered, or hurt, and faced someone telling me to ‘grow a thicker skin’, ‘shrug it off’, ‘walk away’, ‘move on’, ‘let it go’… How often have you? It’s funny that comes up so often, I think, because it is only in very rare circumstances that such words have had any value, or benefit, in those moments of pain. I’m not complaining, and I’m not angry. I’m a bit puzzled, though; where did we – any of us – get the idea that the proper and effective way to soothe, support, or console another suffering human being is to tell them to stop suffering? It’s not particularly effective, and definitely sends a clear message to the suffering person that they are somehow in the wrong to hurt.

I wrote about a thousand more bitter words in that vein this morning, before I realized I had ‘gone off topic’… because this morning I am considering with some interest and amusement that I am actually at a place in life where I am indeed, in some small way, ‘walking it off’, and have been since my journey dog-legged through a crisis and veered hard in the direction of mindfulness, and self-compassion. I’m not trying to ‘walk it off’ in a dismissive way, devaluing the nature of my experience, or to avoid meeting my needs, or to avoid facing the things that hurt so much…I’m not running away. I am walking. A lot. I walk every day, and even days when my walking is simply the portions of my commute I handle on foot, I get a few miles of gentle contemplation, and forward momentum. How is it that it matters so much? (The walking – and the walking with mindfulness, particularly?)

One journey or another; getting from here to there.

There’s probably science to it; I haven’t studied it. I do know that on my most challenging days, when my brain fights any moment of stillness, of awareness, of self-compassion, or contentment, no matter how vicious the ‘brain attacks’ I inflict on myself; once I’m on my feet, and walking, the breathing takes over, and I begin to find peace. Sure, I may indulge in some negative thinking, frustrated rumination, or angry ideations in those first hundreds of yards, but once miles start ticking away, my head clears, my heart feels lighter and my mind is liberated, my thinking productive and lucid. Generally.

This morning I am looking back on the evolution of getting back on my feet. I am observing the steps I took – real and metaphorical – that got my weight down, got me off psych meds that were doing more harm than good, got me away from the mesmerizing mental junk food offered by the media, the networks, and the cable companies. Got me away from a job that was killing my soul. I took steps – and a lot of them, most of them, were real steps – feet on pavement, feet on earth.

I felt real pride the first time I walked 10 blocks to the nearest grocery store – most of it uphill – after years of being sedentary and sedated. I felt a sense of accomplishment when I was able to visit the big farmer’s market on Saturdays; for so long I had been so uncomfortably heavy I just couldn’t walk far enough to do it. I kept at it. No car. Everywhere I could reasonably go on foot, I planned the additional time and didn’t take transportation. I stopped asking friends for rides places. The weight kept coming off. The milestones, and achievements of small goals, kept adding up, and the benefits have never stopped being rewarding. Beginning to commute on foot was a really big deal – and choosing to relocate to housing that put that within reach was one of the best things I have ever done to ‘take care of me’. I’ve been ‘walking off’ the weight for a while now. It’s steady, effective, and gradual. It requires commitment, consistency, and a hearty application of verbs, and it does work. It only makes sense that eventually that process would take me further… parks… trails… getaways… sanity… wellness.

One step after another.

I had forgotten how much walking can also free my mind. A camera, some landscape, a journey… and the world becomes a wide open space, a distant horizon, a broad vista, and it’s different when it is more than a trip to the store. The hiking I have been doing meets a lot of varied needs for me, and practicing mindfulness matters. Storming off angrily and furiously walking an aggressively paced lap or two through residential neighborhoods and retails spaces doesn’t have the same power to bring peace and healing as mindfully walking quiet remote trails, content and aware, and I’m glad I rediscovered that.

Wide-eyed and mindful, there is value in every journey.

I’m spending this year, 51, walking Oregon trails. I’m making an effort to ‘walk away’ from my chaos and damage, and taking a gentler pace through my experience. I’m learning to treat myself kindly walking challenging trails; taking a walking staff or trekking poles, instead of risking injury by ignoring injuries I’ve already got, planning, being prepared, being aware. I’m shrugging off drama, and ‘moving on’ from my trauma… by moving on; setting goals, trying new trails, exploring the unknown in real places as well as within. I’m taking progress, growth, and healing ‘a step at a time’ – literally.

Every path leads precisely where it takes me.

I’m not sure when I really started down this path, as a thing all its own… was it the 5k last fall, on that dreadful rainy, stormy day? That was certainly an achievement, and it encouraged me to walk farther, more, and more often. It was a good next step from commuting on foot. Trips to the beach and my partner’s recent camping/rafting trip definitely got me excited to take yet another step… and unexpectedly it has become a weekend practice to grab my gear and head for the trees, somewhere, for a few hours, quietly walking. Since that first hike with my partners – Cooper Mountain – I’ve also hiked Tualatin Hills Nature Park (through which was my original commute on foot, and a very emotionally safe feeling solo hike), and some of the trails of the Audubon Society Park. I’ve got Sunday hikes planned ahead for most of the summer, and two solo camping trips over weekends. Friends and family already recognize my enthusiasm and commitment to this new activity; they recommend places they have been and enjoyed, and places they think I would enjoy, myself. It’s a point of connection between many coworkers, and I. I feel engaged, and involved in my life, and enthusiastic about each new adventure.

Life’s curriculum isn’t always about ‘the hard stuff’.

Meditation. Walking. Healing. It sounds too easy, and if someone would have suggested it decades ago, I don’t know that I would have been sufficiently open to take it seriously, or to give it a fair try. Still… I’m taking steps. I’m moving on. I’m… walking it off.

One possible future… and one beautiful now.

Today is a good day to plan tomorrow’s hike, and to smile and remember other hikes, and other good days. Today is a good day to embrace what has value. Today is a good day to take another step. Today is a good day to change the world.

Tags a stronger Rx, finding real peace, getting my gear together, getting over it, going for a walk, mindfulness matters, moving on, on your feet soldier!, one step at a time, ptsd, taking care of me, TBI, the forest and the trees, walk away, walk it off, walking and thinking, walking meditation

Categories Anxiety, Brain Injury, Free Will, Healthy Living, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Oregon Trails, pain, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Summer, The Big 5, women

Building Blocks and Play Sets

June 17, 2014 //

I remember a handful of childhood things, memories I feel fairly confident are actual memories, rather than recollections of anecdotes shared by a family member. One of the things I remember is my Granny’s ‘button drawer’ in her sewing room. It was nothing more (or less) than the bottom drawer of her sewing machine table. It was nothing more (or less) than entirely filled with all manner of buttons. When clothing wore out and was cut up for rags, baby or doll clothes, quilting squares or strips for braided rugs, all the buttons were removed and put in the button drawer. There was no order or organization to it. It was a deep, vast, plentiful and chaotic assortment of all manner of buttons, some very old (having come from her grandmothers clothes), and some buttons were so new they were still stitched to cards in groups of 4, 6, or 8, waiting for just the right project.

Playtime at Granny’s house.

On visits, particularly rainy days, when Granny was at her sewing machine, I had the entire button drawer for my play set, my toys, my treasure. I strung buttons into long garlands of sparkly buttons, and bracelets of colorful bead buttons. I sorted and organized the buttons again and again, endlessly fascinated by their variety and materials. I could bury my hands deep in the drawer of buttons and feel the larger, heavy buttons that had slowly settled toward the bottom of the drawer. Pulling some strange, previously unseen button from those mysterious depths was exciting.

Building blocks were available for play, too, and I enjoyed them. I have in mind a morning at play, old-fashioned square blocks, Linkin Logs, and some odds and ends – and a lot of frustration that the pieces, seemingly very ‘regular’ and organized, didn’t work together the way I wanted them to. Unlike the buttons, the clear purpose of each block was both obvious, and limiting, at least for me. I have a recollection of frustrated little girl tears, and a male figure exclaiming with similar frustration “How can you not like this? They’re building blocks!!” It wasn’t at all that I ‘didn’t like them’ – but they sure weren’t buttons of endless variety, with sparkles, carved shapes, colorful forms and limitless purpose in my imagination; they were just blocks. Motionless. Massive. Firmly and clearly geometric. Built with a specific purpose. Designed for a singular sort of play. Not buttons.

Although I was already a ‘chatterbox’, I couldn’t express my emotional needs, or articulate my emotions with clarity. I’m still easily frustrated by difficulty communicating emotions clearly. Metaphorically, I’m still turning building blocks over in my head, and trying to figure out how to make something of them that really sparkles. lol These ‘building blocks’ are different; values, ideas, principles, boundaries, standards… the decision-making of my life has become the ‘building blocks’ of my future experience. I’ve got my blocks… now to build something with them.

My building blocks are simple enough, and so far they seem quite sound. My ‘Big 5’ relationship values are my ‘gold standard’ for a thriving healthy relationship composed of thriving healthy individuals. They work for me, and give me room to grow (and demand that I do, because it’s always about practicing). My Big 5 are: Respect, Reciprocity, Consideration, Compassion, and Openness. Experience tells me that any relationship [of mine] grounded in these values will thrive, and I will thrive, myself. As an individual human, with my own issues and baggage, and wading through considerable chaos and damage as a trauma survivor, I’ve got a couple ‘building blocks’ that are ‘all about me’, too – how do I guide my own experience? What principles can I rely on to keep me on the path to becoming the best of the woman I have the potential to be? I find that, for now, three very simple ideas are all I need there: mindfulness, perspective, and sufficiency do the job nicely.

8 words, and time and practice to build those basics into a content and satisfied life; it isn’t a destination, it is a journey. My Big 5 and my basic principles are less a map, or a goal line, and more like… a backpack, base layers, and good preparation, before heading into the wilderness. Good preparation matters for any project. Planning supports any endeavor, even when events later stray from the plan. Good fundamentals result in improved game play. I could throw metaphors at this all day. I doubt that makes the point any clearer.

Here’s where it gets complicated, for me. I’ve got my Big 5. I’ve got my partners. What have they got? I mean, other than me, practicing my Big 5? We’re all in this sandbox together, and everyone brings their own toys… compatible sets of blocks are helpful, if we’re all going to have a good time. What happens in that sandbox if I’ve got buttons, and my playmate has blocks? What if someone comes along with an Erector set? Or Fischer-Technics? Playtime just got more complicated; our play sets are not easily going to work well together. That’s a jigsaw puzzle for another day.

No blocks? How about a wheel barrow?

Today is a good day to build something wonderful. Today is a good day for kindness. Today is a good day to smile and acknowledge that we’re all in this together. Today is a good day to change the world.

Tags building blocks, buttons, childhood memories, choosing wisely, family photos, mindfulness matters, persistence of memory, practicing, ptsd, setting a standard, sewing machine, snapshots and memories, take care of your toys, TBI, The Big 5

Categories Brain Injury, Free Will, Healthy Living, Love, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Relationships, Summer, The Big 5, Uncategorized, women, Words

The Most Important Thing Right Now

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One for You

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Feet Up, and a Nice Cup of Tea

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Walk It Off, Soldier

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Building Blocks and Play Sets

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