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Shades of Blue

August 5, 2016 //
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I woke feeling strangely out-of-sorts, not quite cross, but not feeling buoyant, merry, or joyful. I rested well. I even slept in and woke some time after the sun was heaving himself into the sky again. My coffee tastes good, and for the moment I am not in any noteworthy amount of pain. I feel subdued, nonetheless, and not as enticed by the prospect of the morning as I have generally grown to be. I can’t quite force an understanding smile, though the intent to have one is there…

My traveling partner arrived last night later than he often does. It’s been a busy week, and he’s got busy days to come, in preparation for an upcoming festival. It’s still days away, and it’s likely we’ll see each other once or twice before he departs. He’s busy getting ahead on work in order to vacation comfortably and he made the choice to return home at the end of the evening, rather than stay over with me. There’s no stress in that, no aggravation, no sense that I am in any way less important to him – but I miss him on this sunny Friday morning. There’s something about sharing our morning coffee that isn’t like any other moment.

I’m not yet entirely awake. I sat down to write first, because missing my traveling partner had overcome me, before I woke. My routines broke with my implicit expectations. I sip my coffee and wonder about the day… the song in my head isn’t a sunny one…but it is one that I strongly associate with a tender moment with my traveling partner, wrapped in love. I put it on the stereo (the only way I know to vanquish a musical “earworm” is to play the song) and let the tears come – and they do. They aren’t hateful, contemptible, bad, wrong, or weak, they’re just tears; they are a sign that I feel. I totally do. This morning I feel love – just more of it than I can contain.

Tangentially, isn’t it strange how powerful music is? I can sometimes change my mood – a lot – by changing the music I am listening to. So, I try a little of this and a little of that, and watch the sun continue to rise. It’s a new day. It feels good to begin again. 🙂

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Categories Anxiety, Brain Injury, Free Will, Love, Mindfulness, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Relationships, Summer, The Art of Being, The Big 5, women, Words

Before the Dawn

August 4, 2016 //
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I woke very early. I did the usual: took my medication, opened up the apartment to morning breezes. I returned to bed, but not to sleep. It was clear in only minutes that sleep would not return, because anxiety showed up. Feeling disinclined to dicker with her, I got up.

"Anxiety" 10" x 14" - and she feels much bigger than that, generally.

“Anxiety” 10″ x 14″ – and she feels much bigger than that, generally.

Day three in pain, mostly managed. It’s not that I was entirely pain-free four days ago, only that it worsened, and has remained so. As it is for many people, pain is part of my experience. By the time I finish my morning coffee, I hope to have worked out today’s strategy for dealing with it. No, I don’t have a perfect unchanging routine for managing pain; I’m not a freight train, and life is not on rails… also pain from headaches differs from arthritis differs from muscle spasms differs from neuropathic pain differs from athletic soreness. Even pain is not ‘one size fits all’, in experience or treatment.

A new day like an anticipated gift; I may know it's coming, but I don't know what's in it until it arrives.

A new day is like an anticipated gift; I may know it’s coming, but I don’t know what’s in it until it arrives.

It is still so early that there is no hint of day break in the sky. I hurt enough this morning that it even distracts me from the anxiety that I woke with, although perhaps they are not unrelated. I don’t feel like writing, though… I think I’ll head for my meditation cushion, instead, and meditate until the sun rises. Taking care of the woman in the mirror and this fragile vessel will be enough, today. 🙂

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Categories Anxiety, Brain Injury, Free Will, Healthy Living, Mindfulness, pain, Perspective, Summer, The Art of Being

Oh. I just got that…

August 1, 2016 //
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I’m sitting here, awake early, watching the slow lightening of daybreak becoming a new day, stormy skies overhead, the sounds of traffic muffled and distant. I was sitting here thinking something or other… and like a jigsaw puzzle piece which has an obvious placement, without searching for it in this moment, I recognize that the verbal form (figure of speech?) to say that something is or is not “supposed to…” is an indicator of an assumption being made. Damn that is so entirely obvious. I mean, by definition, I think I “knew that”…only… now I also “get it”. Well… An improved understanding on any terms is nonetheless an improved understanding. Maybe I also actually already understood that fairly deeply… and only this morning experienced the ‘a-ha!’ moment of “getting it” – detached from the actual experience of making the connection at some other point? Perhaps the feeling is simply a feeling, like so many sensory or emotional experiences, and potentially prone to error?  I don’t know how all the variables of learning, understanding, reasoning, and the sensations of experience epiphanies actually work, and admittedly, I am also aware that my “novelty recognition circuitry” is pretty impaired. 🙂

I do think, in this moment, that I now understand more easily and with a greater sense of clarity that assumptions don’t work (than I had previously), and the understanding is based on also understanding that using the phrasing “supposed to” straight up shouts that one or more assumptions that do not align to reality are being made. It’s a helpful thing to be aware of in conversation.

It’s not the first time I’ve been slow to catch on to something, although quite commonly it’s something humorous that I’m not getting, specifically. There are any number of little quirks and oddities of character that result from brain injuries. Like Witzelsucht or “Gourmand Syndrome“. It often gets me wondering how many “eccentric” or “quirky” people historically actually had some sort of brain trauma? We have barely scratched the surface of what there is to know about the brain… and… we’re using the brain itself to do the work of learning more. I wonder if “conflict of interest” ever comes up… I mean… consciousness itself may have a stake in how much we understand. And then, too, if everyone – or approximately almost everyone – has some sort of brain trauma, over time, what is “normal”? Who decides that? Why do they get to decide for everyone else?

A stop along memory lane, Cafe Schenk, Pfersee.

A stop along memory lane, Cafe Schenk, Pfersee.

I continue to sip my coffee quite contentedly. It’s a Monday with a couple appointments, and some hang out time with my traveling partner at day’s end. I don’t have much on my mind, aside from my health, and that mostly because I am over 50, and didn’t do a great job of taking care of my health when I was much younger, rather than due to diagnosed illness. (You! There are on the couch, 20-something me, you do not need that additional tasty slice of torte, and you’d do well to try to get some damned sleep. Please?? And please leave out some reminders for 30-something me to get off her ass and get some exercise! It’s all going to matter so much, later.) Pretty routine stuff for now; I’d do well to lose a few pounds, and to get into better shape. Physical therapy and keeping an eye on calories and nutrition, walking more (more than that), and getting enough rest are a good starting point. So many damned verbs.

It's a journey.

It’s a journey.

The challenges of the past few days seem less threatening in the cool morning air, with the security of fresh hot coffee warming my hands. How much of my experience is illusions built on emotions, sensations, and assumptions? How much of that can I replace with observation, mindful acceptance, and non-judgmental awareness? Questions for a Monday. Today is a good day to be the change I wish to see in the world – I say it often; this morning I hear the words, and listen to the meaning. There are still verbs involved. I know that my results may vary. I’m okay right now – I can begin again, any time. 🙂

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Categories Brain Injury, Free Will, Healthy Living, Mindfulness, Perspective, Summer, The Art of Being, weight loss secrets, women, Words

Well That Was Weird

July 29, 2016 //
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I didn’t sleep well, and woke too early. I feel generally okay, and it was nice to open up the patio door, and do my ‘sunrise yoga’ as the sun actually rose. I make a point of acknowledging and embracing gains in strength, flexibility, and overall fitness, hoping to limit the discouragement that can so easily creep in when progress feels so slow.

Begin again.

Begin again.

I’ll admit I face the new day earnestly reaching for a new beginning; the evening ending awkwardly, after some difficult moments there toward the end of the evening. I won’t berate myself and insist it was “all me”, that would be inaccurate, although perhaps in many circumstances involving my emotions, it likely wasn’t a 50-50 thing. I tend to keep a tight grip [too tight?] on my emotions when my traveling partner is with me… It’s not a value add, at this point, and I don’t do myself any favors to keep it up… but we so easily find ourselves mired in my bullshit, even now, over some momentary shitstorm of strong emotion that it’s more than tempting to try to ‘keep things in check’ minute to minute, and it’s not really something that works. I probably don’t have to explain that trying to hold back emotions by force of will has a pretty common outcome of unexpectedly strong emotions spilling all over the damned place, spreading across small issues, creating large issues, complicating communication; the signal quickly becomes the noise.  When my TBI-related challenges cross paths with my PTSD symptoms… well… it’s not pretty, and I’m frankly not at my best, and it is a thing that has everything in the world to do with me living alone. I don’t know how else to ‘protect’ the people I love most, but of course… there’s this. What a fucked up mess.

Love matters most.

Love matters most.

We found our way, more or less, by the time I made my way to bed. My partner moved the fan into a window, and tweaked things to keep air moving during the night, and ensured the apartment was secure. I didn’t have to ask, and it’s lovely to be able to count on him for small things that feel urgently important to me (whether they are important ‘in real life’ or not).

My restless night didn’t continue to distress me after I woke, and my “nightmares” weren’t terrifying; it was just my brain finishing up the day’s processing, reconsidering this and that, and shoving new information into long-term storage, I guess. No noteworthy content. I woke to birdsong, and a small amount of lingering bitterness that I suck so hard at managing my issues in the company of a human being with whom [for me] it matters most to do so.  I’m frustrated with myself. I’ll keep practicing. I’ll keep taking care of me. I’ll keep learning more about loving well. Then… I’ll keep right on being quite human. Awkward.

Anyway – the weekend is here. I get a fresh start with each new dawn. There’s nothing on my calendar for the weekend except love and loving. Today is a good day to dust off The Four Agreements, and begin again. 🙂

Stick with the basics - it's a great place to start.

Stick with the basics – it’s a great place to start.

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Categories Anxiety, Brain Injury, Free Will, Hormone Hell, Menopause, Mindfulness, pain, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Relationships, Sleepless Nights, The Big 5, War and News of War, Words

Something Different Sort Of

July 26, 2016 //
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This morning I slept a bit later than usual, and the sun was making her way into the sky and spilling like gold into the living room, through the open patio door. I’d been up much earlier, very briefly, and only long enough to remember to open the patio door to cool pre-dawn breezes, before returning to sleep. I’m glad I did, and not so much because it’s going to be a hot day, but more because it was a moment of great delight to see the very air around me transformed into gold, when I woke later. Beautiful!

The golden dawn enticed me out onto the lawn to meditate. It was still quite early, and there was neither foot traffic, nor sounds of neighbors starting their own days; it was entirely quiet but for the sounds of distant traffic and birdsong. Dew tickled my toes. A chorus of small birds landed in the tops of the tall meadow grass separating the community from the park and trees beyond.  A cat stalked slowly along the edge of the grass. A large blue jay landed nearby and walked toward me, curiously, cocking his head from side to side and checking me out thoroughly before taking off. I wasn’t facing the playground and didn’t see it begin to fill with children and early morning parenting, although I heard the laughter. Meditation ended when I was tumbled from my cushion by something fairly large, hairy, and playful; someone’s “puppy” got away from them and took off across the meadow. A rather large puppy. A Bernese Mountain Dog puppy, according the to panting Mom who’d sprinted behind him (I assume; she arrived almost on top of him, breathless) yelling “he’s friendly! he’s friendly!”. She was apologetic for breaking the peace of my morning, I was all laughter, as I’d somehow ended up with a lapful of large puppy, as well as a toddler and another somewhat older child, who arrived shortly after pup and mother, all childlike eagerness to share tales of their puppies adventures, and to assure me he’s friendly. lol No regrets here; how else does one pack so much laughter and pure unreserved joy into less than 10 minutes? 🙂 (I’m grateful I’ve entered this later stage of life appearing approachably friendly, instead of landing on ‘mean lady down the block’ – it was a legitimate risk, frankly. 🙂 )

There was still time to water the patio garden before the sun begins to beat down on it. Time to water the vegetable garden. I took out the trash. The recycling went to the bin, too. I cleaned the bathroom, humming a happy tune. I had just finished thoroughly (contentedly, happily) vacuuming the apartment, contemplating “Who Cooked Adam Smith’s Dinner?“, which I am reading, when I realized it’s not even 7 am… and I haven’t had my coffee. lol Are puppies and children all it takes to completely wreck what there is to my morning routine? I laugh at myself, and feel a moment of greater understanding (and sympathy) for what unruly lives full-time parents must have, and double-check that I remembered to take morning medication. I still haven’t had my coffee…

Mmmm... Life is good.

Mmmm… Life is good.

I hadn’t expected to spend yesterday evening with my traveling partner, until the moment he said he’d be over later. It was a lovely evening, well-spent in every way. The time spent in the company of shared friends felt warm and nurturing. The time spent alone was close, connected, intimate and easy. It was so nearly the perfect evening, the ideal moment spent wrapped in love, that I can’t even complain about how beastly hot it was; I don’t remember it that way. Love matters more.

So, I start the day routine already in tatters, unconcerned about any of that so long as I am able to take care of the woman in the mirror with some skill, and enjoy my experience without creating chaos or misery in the world. I’m okay with that – over the past few weeks, I’ve gotten more skilled at spontaneity. 🙂  It’s not so scary.

A new day like an anticipated gift; I may know it's coming, but I don't know what's in it until it arrives.

A new day like an anticipated gift; I may know it’s coming, but I don’t know what’s in it until it arrives.

I’ve no idea what today holds, beyond the morning so far… and I don’t feel any urgency driving a need to know more sooner; I’m cool with gently coasting from moment to moment, living life, experiencing experiences, and converting life time into memories. I haven’t taken much time of this extraordinary quality over a lifetime. I sit contentedly sipping my coffee, grateful to have taken the opportunity, and appreciating having the partnership that allows me to comfortably do so. Until I took the time for myself, I didn’t understand how badly I needed it, or what value it would have to have given this gift to myself; a healing journey takes some time, and it’s slow going when progress is saved for long weekends, the rare quiet evening solo, and ‘vacations’. This has been a worthwhile choice.

I became more aware (yesterday? a day or two ago?) recently that I feel actually ready to return to work. It’s an interesting feeling. I also find that I have new respect (and appreciation) for businesses that specifically give employees a hiatus from work on occasion. It makes sense, and strikes me now as a really beautiful way to prevent/heal burn out, or ensure valued employees actually do have some life to experience outside the workplace, for real. This morning, I sit down to job search tasks with contentment and enthusiasm. It feels good – and different. It makes sense to get back to work at the end of the summer… Funny how that rhythm of life left behind in childhood still lingers in my sense of what makes sense to me as an adult. 🙂

Today is a good day for being… and becoming.

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Categories Brain Injury, Free Will, Healthy Living, Love, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Relationships, The Art of Being, Words
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