Archives for posts with tag: needs and boundaries

Who Are You Doing It For?

October 14, 2024 //
2

I’m sitting quietly in the pre-dawn darkness, waiting for the sun and sipping my coffee. I was up earlier than planned, earlier than I needed to be. Early. Laying around restlessly seemed more likely than going back to sleep, so I got up quietly and dressed, made coffee for my Traveling Partner, who was (probably still is) sleeping, and slipped out of the house and down the road to this nearby trail.

Long exposure with the night settings reveals a hint of purple in sky I wouldn’t see otherwise.

This morning I am feeling aggravated over nothing. I’m not certain why I feel this way. My headache, maybe? Maybe the lingering irritation over yesterday’s attempt to relax at home and paint while I did the laundry. That didn’t go well, although I did do a bit of painting, I gave up on it rather quickly rather than deal with my headache and my partner’s irritation with me. It was just too hard to create a comfortable creative space so I said “fuck it” and put it all away, and laid down for awhile hoping to also put the headache to rest. I wasn’t successful at that either. The headache is with me still.

Tears well up as I think about it. There’s more going on here, maybe something that needs more thought and care? It would probably be helpful to have a better understanding of what is actually causing this feeling of hurt.

“Why do you do this thing that you love?” I ask myself. It’s a question worth knowing the answer to, isn’t it? I’m not what would be considered a commercially successful artist. I sell pieces now and then, but I don’t invest energy (or time, or money) in representation, or the business of art. Definitely not “why I do it”, like, at all. I paint because it’s another way to communicate things I don’t have words for. I paint because the process itself meets an emotional need, and satisfies something within me. I love to see my work hanging in my home. It’s always been “about me” – by me, for me. I’ve always been okay with that, too, though I definitely get great joy from the experience of someone else enjoying my work.

Even in my least comfortable, unhappiest relationships, my partners at the time made room for my art, and for my creative process (and the occasional mess). My boundaries and needs as an artist were respected (and even in my terrifying violent first marriage). I felt valued as an artist even when I didn’t feel valued as a human being. Maybe that’s odd? It “felt right”. The people in my life, regardless how they seemed to feel about me, personally, in a given moment, seemed to appreciate my artistic work.

… Things have been feeling different, lately. Artistically, at least at home, I often “don’t feel heard”. I sometimes have a peculiar sense that “nothing I do” (artistically) matters at all, and that the art is, itself, a nuisance or an inconvenience. As if it’s somehow just “in the way” or taking up space. It’s a very strange and very unpleasant sensation.

I breathe, exhale, and relax. I sip my coffee and wonder what there is to learn from this feeling, and this moment. I work on fitting it into the context of life, right now, with so much else going on. It’s been a while since I have been this productive as an artist, and although that is definitely meeting needs for me, what effect does that have on my Traveling Partner, I wonder? He’s certainly got his own shit to deal with right now, and any time I spend artistically is potentially time I am not spending focused on caregiving. Does he have feelings about that?

I am eagerly embracing the joy of feeling inspired by a new medium, and wanting to spend more time on painting (and savoring the feeling of satisfied inspiration), but I’m missing feeling a sense that my partner is enjoying it with me… and I don’t know why. Maybe he honestly just doesn’t care for the paintings I’m doing right now, but doesn’t want to hurt my feelings? Maybe my notion of what enjoying them looks like is a poor fit to the reality of it? Landscape paintings are probably less cognitively demanding of the viewer than abstraction, perhaps they don’t lend themselves to prolonged conversation?

… Maybe it isn’t about any of that at all…

I sit quietly with my thoughts. This isn’t going to be worked out over a single cup of coffee before the sun rises. It feels important, though. It’s a good time to remind myself that I paint to satisfy something within myself. The person who really needs to hear me is…me. Am I listening?

I have been here before. Self-reflection is a process, and a practice.

I sit thinking about the many hours over weeks, months, and even years that I have gazed thoughtfully at my paintings, hanging here or there. I’ve barely gotten started in pastel. Have I truly taken enough time with each new work, once completed, to really “get the point”? Am I feeling as if I were shouting in an empty room because I have not given the new work enough of my own time and attention? This feels relevant and real.

I’ve been painting in pastel for just 96 days. Over 96 days, I’ve painted 25 new pieces. That’s not my most intensely productive pace, but it’s damned close…am I spending enough time appreciating the work, reflecting on each new piece, and understanding what I’m going for? Maybe not. I think I’ve been tending to finish them, take some pictures, and move on to the next piece – sort of the artistic equivalent of talking without letting anyone else get a word in. The art isn’t being given enough time to really “speak to me”, I suspect – and I have to wonder if this is a bigger deal than I understood?

A new day dawning.

I sigh quietly, and wonder what to do about it. I drink my coffee pensively, looking at the hint of daybreak approaching on the eastern horizon. I shift uncomfortably, pain (arthritis, headaches) isn’t helping my mood. I breathe, exhale, and relax. I’ve got this day ahead of me. Things to do. Things to think about. I prepare to begin again.

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Categories Anxiety, Art, art and the artist, autumn, Brain Injury, breathe, Frustration, gratitude, grief, health, inspiration, Love, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, more than a little bit of bitching, Oregon Trails, pain, Perspective, Practices, Relationships, solo hiking, The Art of Being, Words

An Hour of Discontent

March 26, 2013 //
2

I woke in pain after a restless night, and too little sleep; my arthritis feeling like someone carelessly shoved gravel between my vertebrae, the pain a column reaching into my head and manifesting as an horrific headache. I took my time waking up, feeling groggy and dissatisfied, armed with grim resolve not to allow the pain to ruin my moment, my day, or my experience of life. I feel discontent. I feel angry – with myself? With my pain? With the content of my dreams? I don’t know. Hurting ‘mindfully’ isn’t my favorite experience, frankly.  It hurts. lol.

“Where does discontent start? You are warm enough, but you shiver. You are fed, yet hunger gnaws you. You have been loved, but your yearning wanders in new fields. And to prod all these there’s time, the Bastard Time.”  John Steinbeck

I feel discontented. That feeling didn’t dissipate with my walk to work. I found myself distracted from the moment and wanting very much to suppress the feeling, wish it away, indulge in fantastical daydreams of ‘better things’ – anything at all to avoid acknowledging the feeling of being discontented.  My nerves feel raw, and I’m angry with myself for having this emotion, today.  Am I struggling with this because I am in pain? I have experiences that tell me the lack of sleep and the physical discomfort do have the potential to result in a general feeling of being discontented and disconnected from intimate relationships. Hormonal changes sometimes do it, too.  It is one of my least favorite experiences.  I’m also aware I am tired, and cross, and likely to be facing the world less rationally than would be ideal.

Learning to live more mindfully, and learning to ‘take care of me’ and treat myself well and with compassion seems to necessitate learning to express needs and boundaries explicitly…but learning to do those things at all isn’t quite the same as learning to do them well – I need more practice, frankly.  For now, I often find myself struggling with that – how do I express what feels to me like a profound and obvious sort of need to someone in a way that doesn’t result in an experience wherein they feel defensive, ‘blamed’, or simply don’t understand what I’m getting at? How do I put the focus on the need I am attempting to communicate, and succeed in simply communicating the need without demands, implied obligations, or creating conflict? How do I assert boundaries without hurting feelings? Always with the freakin’ questions, right? 🙂  There’s another piece to learn, too, and it is more difficult – learning to being accepting when a clearly stated need may not be met (or even received well), or a boundary not being respected.  Getting the communication right matters.  The lessons never stop in this particular school; becoming a student of life and love has both benefits and burdens. lol.

There was a time in my life – most of it, actually – when I met nearly all my emotional needs through sexual contact. It’s only been the last couple years that I’ve really been developing a different understanding of my needs where things like intimacy are concerned (meaning intimacy as distinct and separate from sex).  I very much want to experience more touch in my every day existence…not sex (ok, more is nice, but it isn’t what I’m talking about, just now).   I specifically mean ‘touch’: hugs, kisses, hand holding, flirty caresses, comforting embraces, sitting closely…every day contact. (I suspect almost everyone these days feels that way, with so much of our emotional connectivity being digital.)  Today is not the day to make decisions about personal challenges, clearly, I’m tired and I hurt way to much to rely on my decision-making where change is concerned. Still, I find myself wondering if putting sex on a back burner completely for a while would make it easier to figure out intimacy…I can’t help shaking my head and almost-laughing at the thought… me, considering putting sex aside for a while? Me? Huh.  I’m not very skilled at intimacy; it requires a level of willingness to be vulnerable, emotionally fearless, and open to the unknown in a relationship that can be pretty intense. I’m only barely learning some basics there, so far.  I’d like to be better at it.  I’d like to be one of those people who easily connects with others, easily experiences compassion for themselves and other people, is kind, and experiences warmth and affection in their relationships as the largest part of their experience. I will keep studying, practicing, learning, and even maintaining a willingness to consider new approaches – I wonder where I will be in 5 years?

Well, I’ll say one thing for mindfulness…I’m not overwhelmed with angsty brooding, aggression, frustration, or a feeling of worthlessness.  I’d like ‘more/better’ out of myself, but I am learning every day, and making small improvements in my experience.  I am managing, at this point, to feel mostly pretty hopeful (in spite of the arthritis and the headache) and willing to keep learning, studying, practicing, living, and loving.  And, thanks, Dave.

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Categories Anxiety, Brain Injury, Free Will, Healthy Living, Logic & Reason, Menopause, Mindfulness, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Relationships, Sleepless Nights, Turning 50, women