Archives for posts with tag: mindfulness matters

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

A More Powerful Prescription

June 16, 2014 //

My hike yesterday was lovely. It was beyond lovely; it was restorative, refreshing, recharging… It was lovely, too.

The sounds of this playful creek followed me everywhere, distancing me from everyday stress, noise, and distractions.

I realized almost immediately that I’d forgotten my hiking staff. The trails were often quite steep, and the snags and obstacles were plentiful. Mindfulness became a pleasant necessity to hike these trails safely.

Being present matters; there’s always something just ahead worth my attention.

I walked and took in the sounds and scents of the forest, filling my lungs with the sweet soft air, and pausing now and then just to be.

The path brings me alongside the creek several times.

My eyes were sharper than my ability to snap a picture, and the many lovely pictures of dense green forest that I brought home with me rarely capture the squirrels, birds, small mammals, insects, and other signs of life I had attempted to photograph. It doesn’t matter much; the pictures are lovely all the same.

The morning was a green wonderland.

I went out purposefully enough, and intending more than exercise and exploration. I really needed a bit of a break, a departure from my routine, and some time and space to sort a few things out and meditate on life and love, and consider my trajectory into my future. It’s a birthday thing.

I needed to consider the path I am choosing, rather than simply walk it without thought.

So much of life is directly determined by the choices I make. Simple choices, difficult choices, choice that seem unimportant, choices that seem urgent in the moment…every choice I make, like a single domino in a very long complex arrangement of dominoes standing closely together, is almost insignificant considered independently from all those other choices. Every single choice contains the power to change my experience, my understanding of myself, even to change the world.

Perspective matters, too; what appears to be an obstacle from a distance, may have no effect on the journey I am taking, myself, when I get there.

I walked less distance in miles yesterday than I did the week before. The trails were steeper, and the hike took about the same amount of time. The journey was more rewarding – because I allowed it to be? Different choices. Different experience.

Sometimes the peace I am seeking isn’t far removed from the turmoil I am struggling with; it’s more a matter of perspective.

I walked with great care, avoiding snags and missteps. I walked with great awareness, opening my eyes to the lush beauty, my heart to healing, and my consciousness to being present in such a lovely moment.

My journey, my choices, my experience… we are each having our own experience.

It was a good morning for a solitary walk through every possible color of green. It often seemed I was truly alone, separate, isolated, and content in my solitude. As is so often the case with perception and appearances, it was fairly illusory. Plenty of other people came to the park to hike those narrow trails yesterday. I occasionally saw them.

There were more flowers than people, which seemed a pleasant balance.

I contemplated how small a single individual can be…

A small commonplace flower, taken singly, has little impact on my senses.

…and how mighty we can become together.

A hillside covered with tiny white flowers dominates my view.

I love the metaphors that life itself provides as part of the curriculum – and part of the floor show. I enjoyed a quiet conversation with a small girl, about small flowers, and how easily small things can be a big deal, taken as a part of a greater whole.

There were plenty of small white flowers with which to make the point.

They sometimes appear to float above the greenery like some strange mist.

Life isn’t always about flowers.

Sometimes it is about the steps we take…

Sometimes it is about sharing some piece of the journey or crossing paths with another traveler.

As removed from the world as I felt, as far away from the busy-ness of human affairs, as distant from drama and obligation and stress as it seemed to be out among the trees, I was never really ‘alone’.

Every moment of solitary contemplation…

…each opportunity to alter my perspective…

…and moving on to another moment, I found I was quickly followed by others, also seeking, also contemplating, and on their own journey.

Yes, we are all having our own experience… yes, our unique experience as a human being can feel pretty lonely sometimes, isolated, neglected, unheard… we are, however, also all in this together on a relatively small ball of rock, each likely doing something like our best, most of the time, or at least thinking so. Choices matter. Awareness matters. Being, right now, just being matters so much.

As I left the park, I pass this kind reminder… we are all interconnected.

I will be back to this lovely oasis of serenity, and I carry some pieces of it with me even now; a contented smile, a handful of pictures, and the memory of a journey, and a metaphor. Today is a good day to make good choices. Today is a good day to recognize that we’re all in this together. Today is a good day to treat each being well – including myself. Today is a good day to change the world.

Tags all the trails, audubon society park, every shade of green, mindfulness matters, ptsd, take a hike, TBI, The Big 5, the bigger picture, trails and tribulations, walk the talk, walk with me a minute, walking my own path

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

You, Again?

June 13, 2014 //

Oh, hello… Please excuse my lack of enthusiasm for your visit. I admit, I was hoping we were really over and done with, you and I. Admit it, it’s been a troubled and troubling experience for years, unhappy, unpredictable, messy… I’d have made plans for your visit, you know, even though – or perhaps especially because – I enjoy you so little. You wear me out, and wear me down, almost as soon as you arrive on the scene. Headaches, confusion, the way you play with my emotions and lie to me – it’s not okay, and I resent the way you make me out a fool or worse, again and again, but I’ve found some small amount of relief in being prepared. Of course, now you take even that from me.

So often, just as I’m finding a way to get along with you more easily, you slip away. I’m left with cleaning up the mess and making all the apologies. I can only imagine how lame those sound after all these years. Once you’re finally gone, I still find myself putting distance between me, and everyone, over lingering fears about whether you are really gone, and because the insecurity I feel after even a few hours with you hangs around screwing with my ability to feel emotionally safe long after you are gone.

You rarely move right in these days, and while I do appreciate that, I am still incredibly annoyed, and feeling imposed upon, each and every time you peak around a corner into my space unexpectedly.

Today I’m incredibly angry with you for being here, now. It’s just not right. You were not invited to my birthday and I don’t want you around. I’m hurt and frustrated that I don’t have the choice of saying ‘just go and don’t come back’; you are an unreasonable and unreasoning pain in my ass (metaphorically speaking) and I’m also frankly bored with you. Still, you return again and again with no ability to understand what you are doing to me, and clearly no concern or compassion.

344 days since I’ve had to live shoulder to shoulder with your bullshit, your mess, and your drama – and still you hassle me and mess with my good times. You know what? You can fuck right off. I’m done with you – if not now, then very very soon, and eventually even you will not be able to deny me that. Maybe for another little while more, but it won’t be long now; eventually I will reach your border, Hormone Hell, and I will walk on through to the other side.

Tags a journey without a map, angry for no reason, are you kidding me?, break on through to the other side, hello it's me, hormone hell, menopause or madness?, mindfulness matters, no compass no direction, no pictures please, ptsd, rites of passage, seriously?, TBI, walk it off soldier

Categories Anxiety, Brain Injury, Healthy Living, Hormone Hell, Logic & Reason, Menopause, Metaphors, Mindfulness, pain, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Sleepless Nights, The Big 5, women

A Perfect Score

June 13, 2014 //

I have a friend* who evaluates experiences with great care, assigning them a number value, and comparing them based on a ‘score’ one to another for relative value. She likes data. I like data, too, so we have some common ground there. I’ve noticed more than once, though, that she quickly goes from being quite delighted with an event or experience to being incredibly discontent solely on the basis of her scoring system; events that score poorly lose value, and her emotional recollection of events changes to support the score she has assigned to them. I haven’t known her to assign a perfect score to any event she’s discussed with me. (If I understand her system, everything starts out as a ‘perfect 10’ and received deductions based on… flaws.)

I mention it, because of all the birthday well-wishes, hers was the only one that requested I evaluate my birthday experience and give it a number. lol

I spend a lot of time with numbers. I enjoy data. (Seriously, that’s a thing!) I even enjoy analyzing data, evaluating trends, making observations about what data may indicate. Experience teaches me that actually scoring experiences, assigning them some sort of merit or value-based grade upon which to evaluate them, is a fast track to discontent. Score-keeping sets me up for perceiving issues of ‘fairness’ where ‘fair’ isn’t a characteristic to be expected in the first place, and creates a sense of competition that probably delights retailers, but doesn’t build a feeling of well-being, or foster good self-care – or good self-talk. I figured this one out when I was quite young, and learning to quantify the value, meaning, and intensity of early sexual experiences. It quickly became apparent that it was difficult to overcome one very relevant puzzle… I could not establish measurements and criteria that reliably resulted in ‘apples to apples’ comparisons. Well… understandably so; people are not apples, and life experiences can not be exchanged for cash. lol

I replied to my friends email with a ‘lol’ and ‘a perfect 10!’.

I am learning to live life in the moment, awake, aware, and alive; isn’t every moment already perfectly whatever it is, given a chance? Isn’t an intimate quiet birthday spent with loved ones, a nice dinner out, and a caring gift as perfectly wonderful as a wild night immersed in deep bass, vibrant house music, dancing, partying to the wee hours with a crowd of friends? They’re very different sorts of birthdays (one was mine, the other belonging to a friend* of mine, on the same date), for different sorts of people at different points along life’s journey.

It is a lovely morning, over a quiet coffee, and another birthday is behind me. Life is not ‘a perfect 10’ – it is a journey, incomplete, in progress, and ongoing indefinitely. Amusingly, when I don’t look too closely at the numbers, ‘it all adds up’.

All the promise and potential of a new day.

Today is a good day for calm awareness. Today is a good day to smile and recognize our shared humanity. Today is a good day to take another step forward. Today is a good day to change the world.

*No friendships were harmed in the making of this blog post. 🙂

Tags add it up, birthday wishes, don't grade me bro!, friends and lovers, happy birthday, how do you rate your experience?, keeping the record straight, meditation, mindfulness matters, perfect score, ptsd, TBI, The Big 5, what's the score?

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

Walk It Off, Soldier

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Building Blocks and Play Sets

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A More Powerful Prescription

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You, Again?

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A Perfect Score

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