Archives for posts with tag: mindfulness

Sipping my coffee this morning, and giving thought to yesterday. A good day at work. A weird, fairly alarming commute home by light rail (lots of feral humans, acting out, it was a bit scary at times). I think about how productive I felt, in the new location. I think about how many colleagues were smiling, that I don’t recall seeing smile so much, before. The thought has me smiling, now. 🙂

…Sometimes a change of perspective makes a real difference. Walk a new path. Take a different approach. View things through a different lens. Ask new questions. Hell, just step from here, to over there, and take another look. Perspective can change how things look, so much. 🙂

I think about the weekend, and the fresh bit of trail walking I’ve been doing. Where to, next? I’m eager to tackle a certain “loop” I have in mind (it is not particularly loop shaped, it simply does not require me to double back to get home). It will test my renewed endurance, although it is approximately the same length as the longest walk I’ve recently taken, at 3 miles. Nonetheless, it has one daunting feature, due to the lay of the land; it is very hilly, with several steep bits that mock the hill in front of the house (well… one of the steep bits is the hill in front of the house). Am I up to it? Regardless which direction I start off in, I’m facing serious inclines, or declines, and throughout the walk, an assortment of both. lol I’m still excited to give it a try.

…No expectation of “easy”. I just have it in mind to take this lovely walk I’ve never taken before. 🙂 That’s enough.

I sip my coffee and think about walks, and paths, and journeys, and trails, and hikes… and realize I am ready, so ready, to begin again. 😀

Where does this path lead?

I slept well last night, and got enough rest. I woke gently, and quietly made coffee, hoping not to wake my still-sleeping partner. I headed to the studio, sat down with my coffee, and started trying to put my thoughts together, words on a page, on a quiet Sunday. I’m grateful to have had an entire night’s sleep. Today, it looks like I’m going to need it.

This morning, my writing is interrupted, several times, for what I can only describe in this moment as “difficult interactions”. I’m not yet fully awake, and lack adequate emotional resilience for the irritated (I hear it as angry) tone of voice, so early in the morning. My thoughts are fractured, scattered, and now focused on feeling hurt, instead of nurturing something within me. My studio door gets slammed, probably without intent. My tears spill over. A quiet morning is apparently not on today’s agenda, and I am the hapless villain in this story – but who is the author? I feel frustrated, sad, and isolated (as much because I don’t really know what to do with these feelings, in this moment). It irks me that I woke up feeling so soft and amiably inclined toward my partner… and at the moment, I feel only the sting of his irritation, his disappointment with me (“What do I have to do to help you remember??”), and the visceral sensation along my nerves of a slammed door.

Sometimes “doing our best” isn’t enough to overcome opportunities to fail at something, or to miss a detail, and “trying hard” is not enough to ensure success. This is true with or without a brain injury. We have to choose again and again to “do the verbs” and to try again. We have to choose again and again to walk our path, or select a new one. It is also true that we don’t generally grow from the things we are reliably good at, or which we find comfortable and easy. So, okay – routine human shit between human primates. Sometimes it’s hard. Sometimes it isn’t comfortable. Sometimes it is necessary to be reminded what the point of it is, and refocus our efforts, because it matters enough to do that. It reliably takes practice.

…What a shitty morning so far…and less than an hour into the day. Disappointment with myself, with the morning, with the circumstances, it all fills me up and spills over as tears, while I watch a little brown bird on the stoop, picking enough sustenance from the ground and from the sidewalk, just to get by another day. I watch the little bird, and try to nudge myself in the direction of recognizing that I am just experiencing some emotional weather; the climate in my heart (and, I assume, my partner’s) is fine. This? It’s just a moment. It’s useful to begin again, if I can start on that, somehow, then it’s not “a shitty morning” as much as a shitty moment. Moments are brief, and they pass.

This time, when my Traveling Partner opens the door to the studio, his face is softened, and he looks at me with love. The irritation is gone. He steps close, and strokes my hair. I apologize for the difficult start to his morning, through my slow, steady, tears. He tells me “it is what it is” and “I’m not angry”. He’s human, too. If I allow it to, the morning will shift gears to a happier place; we’ve made that possible, now it is just a matter of accepting that change and going with it. A matter of beginning again. I give myself a moment to appreciate having a partnership with so much resilience and potential to bounce back from a difficult interaction. I savor the feeling of gratitude that seeps in, as I contemplate the difference between this partnership, and others I’ve had.

I breathe. Exhale. Relax. Allow my heart to slow, and my posture to lift me more erect. I sip my coffee, and begin again.

Well. Here we are. 2019 is winding down, just hours from its commonplace celebratory finish. 2020 hasn’t yet raised itself up to become “real”. We exist in the space between, that place we call “now”. So temporary.

I sip my coffee and think my thoughts. I don’t assume I know anything at all about what 2020 may hold – why would I? Life is varied, the menu of possible human experiences is vast and complicated (and possibly in a different language…). This moment, and this coffee, right here, is enough for now. 🙂

I woke ahead of the alarm this morning. I woke from dreams of something or another that had caused me some distress. It’s already gone now, the last remnants of recollection have already dissipated. All that was actually required for that result was to get up, and do some very routine things, in a very routine way, focused entirely on those routine actions in the moment. Once completed, those actions and my presence with them in those moments, cleared my consciousness of any notable distress from my dreams, including the memory of the content of those dreams, leaving behind only the most vague awareness that I’d had, perhaps, “some bad dreams”. I count this as an achievement. There was a time when waking from bad dreams would often wreck my emotional balance for hours, sometimes days.

Celebrating small successes is a pleasant start to New Year’s Eve day. 🙂 I definitely recommend it. 😀

This holiday is the end to (my notion of) the winter holiday season. Tomorrow, I’ll celebrate the new year with rituals and routines of cleaning things up and putting things away. The tree will come down, and the ornaments will be cherished one last time before being boxed up safely and put away for another year. I’ll do some laundry, probably. Things like that. Bringing order to chaos is a pleasant start to a new year. Certainly, it’s enough.

The other thing I do in celebration of a new year, is to take an hour of time for myself, to meditate, to reflect on the year past, to reset goals, plans, and re-calibrate expectations that linger. It’s a time to take a look at the woman in the mirror, and ask some hard questions about where she’s headed. I value this time, and have taken it for myself for many years. It is a practice I encourage. Far too many people get to the end of a year and find they “just don’t have any time for” themselves. How ridiculous is that? Don’t forget to make time for your needs, and your plans, your dreams, all of that; you only get to walk your own path. Be sure the path you are choosing to walk is truly yours. 🙂

…The last blog post of 2019. I’ve been far less “reliable” about writing this year, than in the years past (since I started this blog, I mean). Only 252 posts this year, clearly I’ve taken some time for myself this year. 🙂

…So…yeah. 2020? Almost time to begin again. 😀

I’m thinking about patterns and routines as I sip my morning coffee. Specifically, about a pattern I’m noticing rather a lot lately, one where I have something clear and complete to write in the evening, and such an evening seems regularly followed by a morning on which I’ve either entirely forgotten those thoughts, or can no longer hold the relevant circumstances also in my memory; either way, I’m not writing that post. It’s gone. lol

…But writing first thing feels so… natural…

I am having to consider that this particular timing of this particular practice is not suiting me well, at the moment. Changing the timing is something I’ve approached before. I used to write in the evening, very reliably. There was a time when writing at lunch time was the way I handled “when to write”. I’m considering returning to that one, for a while, at least. Maybe. Probably.

…Maybe…

…First things first? This post, and this cup of coffee. This moment. “Now”. I’m definitely into it. Lovely quiet morning. Delicious cup of coffee. I feel good in my clothes. I feel comfortable in my skin. It’s enough to start the day well.

…And it’s already time to begin again…