Archives for posts with tag: mindfulness

There’s this guy…

…Oh, hey, some ground rules, first. I’m pretty human and I have my share of petty moments; it matters to me to be compassionate, to be aware that we are each having our own experience, and to do my best to be non-judgmental. I see human behavior. Being human, myself, I have some. I don’t always understand it, and liking words I often want to describe it. Today, too. So, this one is more a character study than a judgement, and I’ll do my best to attend to my phrasing. 🙂

Each of us is having our own experience.

Each of us is having our own experience.

There’s this guy I see regularly on my commute to work, in the morning. I usually see him near the coffee stand. Days when I see him, I’m struck by how much I want to ‘type-cast’ him. He has a very ‘East Coast vibe’. He also strikes me as the essence of The Perfectly Miserable Man. I feel a bit sad for him, generally, because on any given day he seems stressed to the breaking point, and entirely and completely miserable. He also conveys some other things through his discontent tone. He seems angry, disagreeable, and entitled. I wonder each time I see him what it is about life that sucks so much for him that he finds the will to be that miserable.

I’m not being mean. A day or two ago, I walked up to the coffee stand, and gave the gentleman who runs it my order, a latte. Between my words, and the barista’s reply, The Perfectly Miserable Man rushed up, inserted himself physically between me, and the counter, and barked at the barista “Do you have half and half?”. It was obvious the barista was as startled as I was, and didn’t quite hear what this other potential customer had said. He replied, courteously enough, “I’m sorry?”  The Perfectly Miserable Man doesn’t have time for polite trivialities, and went on a tirade about the intelligence of the barista, his honesty, his work skills, then turned attention to the sorry state of the world, and his own misery that he could be treated so badly by one and all. It was damned eloquent. Part of me also found it… hilarious. It was illuminating. I could see The Perfectly Miserable Man building his exquisite misery in front of me, a word at a time. Escalating emotionally in the absence of any stimulus outside his own creation – highly efficient. Sad, too, because he could choose differently, and have a very different experience.

Once the barista understood that The Perfectly Miserable Man was asking for free half and half for coffee he hadn’t purchased there – actually, he hadn’t purchased anything on that day – the barista politely, and rather graciously, apologized that he didn’t have the stock on hand to give away half and half.  The Perfectly Miserable Man wasn’t satisfied with that and flung more than offered a dollar for some half and half. The barista asked how much he wanted, still being polite, and when The Perfectly Miserable Man indicated about a tablespoon, the barista handed over the carafe of half and half.

The story doesn’t really end there. I might not have been sitting around mulling this over if it had. The Perfectly Miserable Man accepted the half and half, managing to be rude, dismissive, and confrontational about it. Then he poured about 6 ounces of half and half into an empty cup, and put it into his lunch box, for later. He crossly muttered the entire time about the service, the cream, the day, having to pay for cream as a customer, the weather, the timing of the bus, and quite a few other things it never occurred to me qualified as complaints. He doesn’t mutter quietly, either. His words are obviously intended to be heard – and any overt recognition, eye contact, change of expression, is likely to result in a more directed bit of misery. He is so completely miserable.

I don’t actually get it, and I’ve started to look for him on the way to work. Some qualities and characteristics can be difficult to study, to understand, because subtleties require some prerequisite knowledge. I’ve certainly been miserable. I’ve grown to understand how much choice is involved in that.  Growing further, and learning to make different choices and not live an experience steeped in misery is worth doing. The Perfectly Miserable Man gives me some interesting life curriculum – he works really hard at misery, and is clearly very successful at it. I don’t need to know why to appreciate the rare opportunity to see it, study it. Seriously? This guy’s misery is on a level of real craftsmanship! Without fail, every time I see him on the way to work, he is miserable, and acting on it with his will, and demonstrating it for his community… I wonder each morning that I don’t see him, if perhaps I can’t recognize him if he isn’t miserable, and I overlook him when he’s having a good day? lol.

Not judging; it sucks to see him suffer, and I want to share that it doesn’t have to be that way.  I also recognize that he’s his own being, on his own path. He gets to make his own choices. I hope he gets some good days. I appreciate that his misery is a powerful demonstration I can study from afar.

I’ve been miserable. I don’t like the feelings that are part of misery. When I am not miserable, I can see quite clearly how much will and choice go into maintaining misery. When I feel miserable, I find it very hard to make choices that free me, even when I can clearly see it is a matter of choice. Misery is some nasty shit. I definitely want to learn the skills, and build my will, to improve my ability to be resilient in the face of moments of misery. It doesn’t look like The Perfectly Miserable Man enjoys life.

I made a careful packing list before I departed for my weekend destination. I always use a list, it helps prevent me from forgetting something obvious.  This particular trip it was super handy – I didn’t forget anything I intended to bring along. Except the list. Yep. I carefully checked off each item, verified it’s location, and later departed quite prepared.

I didn’t bring the list itself along.

Strangely, this small omission which would have caused me very big stress a couple of years ago finds me untroubled today; it’s a small cottage, and I’ve carefully packed, checked drawers, shelves, cupboards, and corner tables, and it seems I’ve located each item that is mine, and packed it once again.  I could stay an eternity, I suspect. This small cottage quickly felt like ‘home’… I find myself wondering at that. Have I become ‘a turtle’, taking my sense of home everywhere with me, and easily settling in to new circumstances? That could be a very nice quality to have.

My wee home on the coast this weekend.

My wee home on the coast this weekend.

For now it is time to say farewell to my cottage at the beach and head home to suburbs and city, work and routine, life and love. I’m eager to return home to a less nomadic arrangement of my affairs and my experience, although I know I’ll miss meeting the dawn down on the shore for some yoga as the sun rises.

A last look, a moment to breathe the ocean air and hear the cries of seabirds, then the walk down to the cafe near the bus stop, to wait for my ride ‘back to the world’. This weekend has been emotionally productive, soothing, educational, and very worthwhile. Time well spent. There will be more to say, more to share, another day. This? This right here – this now – is still ‘my time’.

Best appreciated quietly.

Best appreciated quietly.

I woke with a headache, still managing to be eager to face my journey – both metaphysical, and geographical; I’m headed to the coast.

Sky, sand, and a distant horizon.

Sky, sand, and a distant horizon.

There’s something about being on the shore of the ocean, either ocean really, but the one on the left side is easier to reach at the present. I’ll take a few days, celebrate the changing season, walk, meditate, write, do some yoga on the beach and not notice that I’m not a lean hard-bodied yogi under 30 all strong core, tan skin, and toned muscles; it’ll feel amazing. There is so much living that is not about appearances at all, however cool it looks in a photograph.

I will write; I am hoping to finish a manuscript. I will meditate – at this point that goes without saying (lol). I will take some pictures and enjoy capturing the world through a camera lens, while I contemplate the way I view it through the less well-defined lens of my own experience, through my all-to-human eyes.

The headache is nothing much to bother with, I think I am a tad dehydrated, and I’m alternating water and coffee this morning to get past it. It astounds me what a huge piece ‘taking care of me’ a simple drink of water is! I pause for a moment to reflect what an advancement clean drinking water is, and how many people in the world don’t have even that most basic of resources readily available in the 21st century.

Today is a good day to make a journey. Today is a good day to be kind. Today is a good day to treat myself well, and enjoy the moment. Today is a good day to change the world.

Today is the Vernal Equinox. Yes, I always capitalize that. 🙂 What could be more worth celebrating that the changing of seasons? Certainly worthy of a capital letter or two.

Nothing else needs to be said – Spring says all she must without words.

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Welcome, Spring! I know you won’t stay as long as I’d like before Summer crowds you out with more rambunctious fun, but we’ll have fun while you’re here. 🙂

Today is a good day to smile, a good day to pause for flowers, for funny stories, for a moment with a friend. Today is a good day to change the world.

…Do you wonder?

This morning I’m musing about ‘certainty’ and ‘being right’ and ‘knowing’. I can remember a time when the lynch-pin holding my understanding of the world together was a sense of certainty, a willingness to ascribe immutability to some characteristic or another, or render some past event ‘precise’ or ‘exact’ with a level of reliability that I no longer think I can accept as a given. I needed, then, to be utterly able to ‘defend my point’ and sway others to ‘my side’. It gave me a powerful boost to ‘win’ arguments. I’m not so sure of things now.  I’m wrong too much. lol I let go of ‘being right. Doing so is a comfortable fit for where I am in life, and since I feel pretty good most of the time, and pretty calm, I’m willing to have it be what it seems now, and let it go there. Uncertainty is okay with me. Relativity seems alright, too. Perspective has a tendency to clear things up in time, with consideration, and a sense of wonder, and doesn’t piss as many people off, or distance them.

I don’t need to be ‘right’.

Interestingly, that ‘need’ to ‘be right’ has been a big driver of lifelong discontent, dissatisfaction, resentment, anger, hostility, and frustration, as well as a whole host of associated unpleasant behavior that wasn’t any less unpleasant, or any more tolerable or acceptable, because I didn’t actually understand how unacceptable or unpleasant those behaviors were. What we understand, as individuals, doesn’t change the world around us, doesn’t change ‘the facts’ of reality itself. What we understand colors our own experience, changes what we recognize our choices to be, gives us context in which to define our behavior, words with which to describe our experience, but does not change the reality of it. What we understand changes what we think about who we are, but it doesn’t change the experience others have with us.  The whole notion of ‘being right’ is a sort of ‘us vs. them’ scenario we play out in our heads, generally to regain control or enforce boundaries, set limits, or force another person to conform to our understanding of things, for our own security or personal gain.

I gave up on being right awhile ago. It’s not that I’m ‘always wrong’, or that errors in thinking or decision-making plague me more than others. My perspective on this is more that being right is entirely irrelevant to contentment, joy, love… beautiful experiences to have or to share. An urgent need to ‘be right’ can throw a bucket of icy water on a lot of loving and warm circumstances. I’ve found that where ‘right’ is relevant at all, whether someone else recognizes that I am ‘right’ is utterly irrelevant to my own experience, or ‘the true truth’ or the facts or reality of …whatever. Seriously. I was able to entirely give up on feeding a need to be right – because it frankly doesn’t actually matter even a little bit. I laughed with delight and wide-eyed wonder when I realized it.

Illumination

Illumination

These days, the only time I press even a bit if I sense I am ‘right’ about something and in disagreement with someone else is when I see legitimate potential for bodily harm, or an obvious safety hazard. The rest of the time? Yeah – if you’re sure you’re right, go ahead and enjoy that. I’ve no need to argue the point, and your perspective differing from mine has no effect on me whatsoever. Arguing never made me feel happy, or gave me any pleasure, although it sometimes provided me a connection to another person that was based on emotional content; how sad when we seek and find our emotional connections through confrontation, instead of intimacy.

A trick of the light...

A trick of the light…

It gets sticky here, though… because letting go of being right is something I think I am right about! What a delightful joke on me. But, just as a trick of the light doesn’t actually alter the thing I see, even this bit of paradox doesn’t actually alter my experience; being right has let me down many times. Discovering that it doesn’t actually matter to me whether I am right or not, and that ‘being right’ is one of the least valuable or relevant details of any experience, has been eye-opening, and allowed me to learn/grow more and faster. I guess it makes some basic sense – what we ‘know’ impedes learning what we don’t know, because learning something requires that we accept that we lack knowledge.

Today is a good day to be a student. Today is a good day to change the world.