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More This Than That

July 24, 2015 //
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I woke this morning with some effort, and even after a (long) hot shower, yoga, meditation, and the first sip or two of an excellent cup of coffee… I still feel rather sluggish and slowed down. I have no idea why my morning is starting in slow motion – I slept well and deeply through the night, and went to bed at quite a reasonable hour.  My mood is… ‘quietly merry’ describes it best, I suppose, and I am not inclined to criticize my mood or the choice of words to describe it. Slow or not, the day is off to a lovely start.  That’s enough.

My heart is a temple to the Goddess of Love.

My heart is a temple to the Goddess of Love.

My last thoughts as I faded into sleep last night were of my traveling partner. My first thoughts on waking were similarly of him, inasmuch as they were of love, generally, and I find it difficult to think about love without also thinking about my traveling partner. It is one truth of my heart that the love he and I share has tended to redefine love quite a lot for me. It’s nice to observe that while the time we spend together (as in ‘in shared space’) is quite limited these days – every precious moment is also completely wonderful. It’s lovely. When we met it was also this way, and it remained so through the first many months we lived together. Our beginning was so natural, and such a wonderful fit, that we two beings disinclined toward matrimony at all would find our way to each other – and marry. Life’s hard knocks taught us both to doubt the value of a romantic contract…and loving each other changed our minds about that, and given us practical and emotional perspective that still colors our experience in a powerfully positive way. We rely on each other utterly – even when we don’t live together. What’s even better? We can.

"Cherry Blossoms" 12" x 16" acrylic on canvas 2011

“Cherry Blossoms” 12″ x 16″ acrylic on canvas 2011

I’m not bragging – we work at love, my traveling partner and I, and for a couple of years it wasn’t easy. Historically, our ‘others’ haven’t found the same profound value in the intense way my traveling partner and I love each other, that we experience ourselves. Real, significant, adoring, heartfelt love that works can be a tad threatening for those that don’t have it, that doubt it, or that didn’t understand that the work required is not diminished by the profundity of the affection; there are verbs involved – a tremendous lot of them, and far more of them than I had understood, myself (thus those couple of challenging years – I am still building needed skills, myself, and I know for my traveling partner, my TBI presents unanticipated challenges for him, too). Conveniently, although the work is not diminished by the depth of the affection – neither is the affection itself diminished by the necessity of doing the work – Love is ever a worthy cause in which to ‘mutually pledge our lives, our fortunes, and our sacred honor’. Yeah…I’m pretty sure that if I am not inclined to feel that way about someone, it’s not ‘love’.

"Communion" 24" x 36" acrylic on canvas w/ceramic and glow. 2011

“Communion” 24″ x 36″ acrylic on canvas w/ceramic and glow. 2011

I woke in solitude this morning – I’m okay with that. I enjoy it. The morning is still and calm, and pleasant. There is no stress. I smile thinking about the time spent loving, lately, and how wonderful it is to feel a cherished relationship deepen and grow without struggling to also figure out my own shit, work on me, paint, write, and exist along this peculiar trajectory – having my own experience is rather effortless without the minute-to-minute sense that everything is tangled up with having to be ever vigilant about what I am saying, doing, feeling… living with the TBI and my PTSD are difficult enough without having to constantly be on the look out for opportunities to ease the impact on someone else. The choice to move into my own place is continuously reinforced as being a good one through the day-to-day ease that has resulted. It matters a great deal that love feels renewed, restored, and once again the wellspring of my creative drive and the smile on my face.

"Contemplation" 11" x 14" acrylic on canvas 2012

“Contemplation” 11″ x 14″ acrylic on canvas 2012

The unconventional choice to live alone – and apart from my spouse –  is working out pretty well; love is enhanced rather than diminished.  I knew when I was quite young (as early as 14) that living with others was problematic for me. I don’t crave continuous community, and my triggers are numerous and commonplace – but I enjoy being able to while away social hours with friends and lovers when it is comfortable, if I can easily disengage when the time comes (and be permitted full autonomy over determining when that time has come). I didn’t heed my own self-knowledge, and allowed myself to be persuaded (again and again, over many years and multiple relationships) that what I understood would be good for me wasn’t an acceptable choice. Decades later, I finally allow myself room to breathe, to grow, to be. I am realizing – and accepting – that it is okay to trust myself; who knows me better than I do? And in trusting myself, and taking care of me in the way that suits me most and meets my needs over time most effectively… I find my way ‘home’ to this place in my  heart where love resides, and I feel free.

"Lovers" 10" x 14" watercolor on paper 1992

“Lovers” 10″ x 14″ watercolor on paper 1992

Today is a good day to look my demons in the face with a smile and say “you have no power over me!” It doesn’t matter that it may not be true tomorrow – it’s true today, and that’s enough.

 

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Categories Art, art and the artist, Brain Injury, Free Will, Healthy Living, Love, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Relationships, Summer, The Art of Being, The Big 5, Words

Strong or Bitter?

July 22, 2015 //
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My coffee this morning is, perhaps, a bit of both – strong, and bitter. I can’t actually be sure…I don’t taste ‘bitter’ with any particular acuity, myself.  My own vantage point is that the coffee ‘tastes different’ in some hard to place way. It could be that it is simply a stronger cup of coffee than usual…

Bitter is not one of the flavors of Love.

Bitter is not one of the flavors of Love.

Strong versus bitter is something to consider on another level, isn’t it? The old adage that what doesn’t kill us makes us stronger says nothing about what may become of our welcoming innocence along the way. Isn’t ‘bitter’ one opposite of innocent? The difficulty is that bitterness doesn’t typically serve me well as an individual seeking growth and wellness – it gets in the way. It is by far preferable, I find, to allow experience to develop over time in a gentler way, with a kinder (to myself and the world) outcome: strength. I still have a lot to learn about what develops strength versus what fosters bitterness…even with making coffee. 🙂

I was once far more cynical than I am now. More damaged. More wounded. More bitter. Experience had beaten me down, and torn my heart and my spirit to shreds leaving an emotional wasteland behind, and lacking any greater understanding that the journey could take me another direction if I chose my steps with care, I sort of trudged along…consumed by bitterness, ancient pain, and rage. That was a really long time ago. The first handful of steps in a different direction took so very many years…and the last handful of years have seen me take so very many steps in a better direction. The bitterness – the small bits that linger – are often simply a reaction from the damaged past to some “See? This shit, again??” moment within, before my brain can catch up with my emotions and remind me how far I have come, and that we are each having our own experience.  As emotions go, bitterness is every bit as fabricated as the rest, and just as illusory. The hurts in life hurt – they do – but the bitterness? I can choose differently. I can choose to raise my voice, use my words, and love the woman in the mirror by showing her the same respect, consideration, compassion, and openness I would show anyone else – and the reciprocity I need? That comes from using my words – answering circumstances with gentle reason, with awareness, with observation and clarity, instead of reacting with bitterness. Words may not change the circumstances – but I will feel heard. It takes practice to speak with tenderness, and vulnerability, about the things that set off a feeling of bitterness. It takes more practice to do so without letting hurt and anger become louder than the words – very few people, however much they love someone, can really ‘hear through the anger’ – we hear the anger itself, and earnestly wanting to be heard, I find value in learning to take a softer approach.

It’s a lovely  morning. A gentle, quiet morning that begins with a strong coffee, and an appointment, and will end with – no kidding – a baseball game! How peculiar? How delightful! How very different from the ordinary routine of the busy work week? I have never been to a baseball game. 🙂

Dinner last night with my traveling partner was quite relaxed and wonderful. I dropped him off at his place, still smiling, and headed for home – by way of rush hour traffic. It’s no wonder we spend so little time together on workday evenings – the traffic is nasty, and it takes 40 minutes to get from his place to mine! (It’s only 11 miles… 40 minutes seems somewhat excessive.) I can’t comfortably invite him to dinner much of the time, knowing that;  just the thought of the traffic in the evenings robs the idea of any fun. Why would I put him through that on purpose? It doesn’t sound very loving. lol  By the time I got home I was feeling on the edge of tears, and a hint of bitterness was creeping in. Rather than allow that to progress further, I reached for my handy self-care toolkit.

  • I checked my calendar – yep, due for my HRT; bitterness and other emotions on the darker end of the spectrum are often associate with fluctuating hormones. I take my hormones. This detail is not a safe one to ‘miss’ on – the consequences for my emotional experience can be pretty ugly.
  • I acknowledged how much I really just miss my traveling partner; this is an emotion that coexists with my day-to-day joy and comfort with living alone. Recognizing I have these feelings, I invite him to do something together this weekend (which both comforts me and gives me something to look forward to).
  • I take a shower and wash off the stress of the commute home through traffic; I rarely drive in rush hour traffic [or at all], and the scent of stress clinging to me could potentially continue to affect my mood. Besides…a shower after a hot day just feels lovely. 🙂
  • I meditate. Honestly, it takes the edge off, for me, in almost any trying moment.
  • I address other stressors that are in the background; there is paperwork for the appointment in the morning, and I had not yet found all of it. Taking care of that did a lot to ease my general level of stress.
  • I reminded the woman in the mirror that it’s okay to miss my traveling partner – he misses me, too – there is a greater purpose in living alone right now, a worthy one, a needful opportunity to heal and to grow. Taking the time to recall that this is a choice I am making for me, for my own sanity and longer term health and wellness, does a lot to ease the developing sense of bitterness.

Seriously? The bitterness was an illusion brought on by a little stress, a lot of love, and a lack of physical contact – it can be a challenge struggling with my libido in solitude, honestly, and that has been a thing that has held me back from finding my way through the chaos and damage more than once. The most important thing lacking in a solitary life [for me] is touch. An intimate connection with a physical component. Sexual romantic love. Going without that is super difficult for me, some days. Recognizing the simple primate mammalian truth of it allows the bitterness to subside – it wasn’t ‘real’ in the first place – and I move on with an evening filled with loving recollection of the excellent dinner I shared with my traveling partner, while I got myself organized for my appointment.

There is a lot of strength to be had in taking the very best care of this fragile vessel – and the being residing within it. Strength is…well… strong. And sexy. And nurturing. Bitterness? It doesn’t have those qualities at all. Given a choice, I’ll choose strength. I’m okay with not being so easily able to taste bitter. 🙂

 

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Categories Anxiety, Brain Injury, Free Will, Healthy Living, Hormone Hell, Logic & Reason, Love, Menopause, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Relationships, Summer, The Art of Being, The Big 5, women, Words

Bouncin’ Back

July 15, 2015 //
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I woke with the alarm this morning, and for a few moments lay quite still, awake, getting my bearings on the day before attempting to rise. I don’t spend much time on ‘auto pilot’ these days, even first thing as I am waking. It seems a healthy change, but it is dependent on my own still-developing ability to stay on course using awareness, will and verbs. I am a beginner. A student. A project in progress. I suppose this is always true, for each of us, until we choose to cling to what we think we know, instead of allowing ourselves to learn and grow…

I am not yet reliably skilled at staying in the moment and making each choice anew without the ‘advantage’ of habit, reactions, programming, and a clear plan with many ‘plans B’ and alternate options for a variety of contingencies and unexpected effects of the free will of others. Still…it’s very pleasant to wake, linger a moment with myself, breathing, before rising rather than feeling my feet hit the floor as I turn off the alarm, and sort of lurching hurriedly through a firm very fixed routine. The occasional miss on taking medication, or wandering off having forgotten to start the dishwasher, seems like a small and reasonable trade-off to become more awake, aware, and alive; embracing an authentic experience of myself, and enjoying my life is very much worth the effort. (Yes, there are verbs involved.)

Enjoying morning.

Enjoying a moment.

This morning, I am listening to favorite tracks and getting my day started in an upbeat energetic way. My coffee is ready – but I’d forgotten about that, until just now; I am dancing through chores and housekeeping. Coffee does sound good…

…Still hot, too. 🙂

Today starts well – most days do now. It’s a pleasant life, and I am eagerly looking ahead to making some of this more permanent in my experience by buying a little place of my own. It’s time I was able to call somewhere ‘home’ knowing that it is not a lease-dependent condition reliant upon the whim of some landlord. I have a much clearer idea of what I want out of a home of my own, and my wants and needs are not lavish, out of reach, or excessive. I have no need to impress someone else, or achieve any goal besides ‘home’ [easy enough, since ‘home’ is something we make with our hearts, our will, and our work – and not something that can be purchased, ever]. Hell, this wee apartment is ‘home’ to me on a level only one other dwelling has been; it’s about what I put into it, rather than plumbing fixtures, fancy doors, upgrading paint or flooring, or vast square footage used to indicate importance and stature. Buying a home will be much less costly than it would be if I were attempting to purchase the esteem of others at the same time. 🙂 Something for me will be quite enough.

Last night I enjoyed some quiet time and conversation with my traveling partner. Saying so does little to describe the profound delight I take in hanging out with this one particular human being, or to share how precious those moments together are. We enjoy each other. The stresses and challenges of living together in a stress-filled multi-adult shared household were incredibly unhealthy for the two of us as a partnership [and for me as an individual], and it pleases me to be once again able to wholly enjoy him – to enjoy each other together – on this profound connected level that we share so easily without the interference of others. I had worried, when I moved, that I had entirely lost my skill for ‘being there’ for him, over time, and that I was simply no longer able to be a gentle supportive presence, listening, loving, engaging, connecting… It was silly to worry myself so. The environment we were in simply didn’t support that, at all, and in that context our effort to enjoy each other with any ease was continuously undermined, often in a seemingly willful way. I understand the circumstances (and people) much more now, and the perspective offered by distance is very helpful. It has been easy to ‘let it go’; it does not directly affect my experience now, and is not worth taking personally (it was never ‘about me’).

I am smiling this morning. My traveling partner is comfortable turning to me when he needs support – that means so much to me, and now I recognize that being there for him in that way is a powerful positive value in our relationship for me – it is something I have to offer Love that is very much worth having. My Big 5 is powerful there: Respect, Consideration, Compassion, Reciprocity and Openness build a strong foundation for love. My attention to living beautifully, and study of The Art of Being, is useful, too; I have created a beautiful safe space here, for myself, that nurtures calm, contentment, and affection. OPD dissipates here, unable to find a solid platform from which to run the show. Seeing my distressed partner at the door resulted in a warm welcome, a loving embrace, and supportive chill time enjoyed together – no stress. Lovely.

Enough.

Enough.

This is my life. This is my home, and this is the way of my heart. This is enough. 🙂

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Categories Brain Injury, Free Will, Healthy Living, Love, Mindfulness, Perspective, Relationships, Summer, The Art of Being, The Big 5

Enjoying Morning

July 13, 2015 //
2

I am sipping my coffee contentedly, and sifting rather passively through words and ideas. I am open to inspiration but not finding any so far. I am content with this, too. My coffee is very good, and the morning is a pleasant one. My brain is not yet ‘firing on all cylinders’, and I am not inclined to be demanding or insistent with myself; it is a Monday, and there is no reason to rush. (That’s really the big advantage of my leisurely mornings; I don’t feel rushed. Ever.)

Coffee, flowers, and a celebration of morning.

Coffee, flowers, and a celebration of morning.

The days are already becoming shorter. It is no longer already daylight when I wake, and I enjoy watching dawn bring shades of mauve and blue to the darkness as I sip my coffee, yawning, and wondering what to write ‘about’. I feel content and satisfied, and well-rested after a delightful weekend. I find myself already eager to end the work day (that has not yet even begun) to hurry home to… read. Or write. Or paint. Or… do something with and for me, even if nothing more than cooking myself a tasty meal using produce from my garden, or taking a hot shower and enjoying the sensuous pleasure of water on skin.

This morning doesn’t need to be ‘about’ anything besides morning, itself. Enjoying the quiet, the serenity, the cool morning air, and a few moments for myself before the work day is enough. Weightier matters can wait for some other day, some other moment…”now” is not for any of that, apparently; my time is taken up with this very excellent cup of coffee, and the recollection of a lovely weekend.

Today is a good day to savor the moments that delight me and nourish my heart. Today is a good day to pause the hard work, the drama, the focus, and the energy spent on effort, to take a few moments for me just to enjoy me – and the outcome of prior hard work, focus, and energy spent on effort, and the lack of drama day-to-day. Today is a good day to be, on my way to becoming.

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Categories Free Will, gardening, Healthy Living, Mindfulness, Perspective, Summer, The Art of Being, The Big 5, Uncategorized

A Woman of More Than a Few Words

July 6, 2015 //
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I will not ever be described as ‘a woman of few words’. I use a lot of words. I don’t, myself, mind that I tend toward verbosity in both speech and text; I tend also to attract people who similarly enjoy words. My traveling partner once noted “you have a lot to say”. Maybe. I certainly say a lot. Sometimes it gets in the way of saying what I most mean to say, or need to say most urgently. I can take a while getting to the point. I seriously overuse metaphors. I sometimes don’t notice the glazed look in someone’s eyes when they are finished listening before I have finished talking. It makes asking ‘do I ever actually finish talking?’ a worthy question.

I spend a great deal of my time these days not talking. Living alone, and not being the sort to talk to myself, generally, there are often hours where there is no sound of human speech in my living space. I don’t talk to my fish (very often). I don’t talk to inanimate objects, or my Barbie dolls (yes, I said it, and it’s true; I still play with my Barbies). I am not in continuous communication with other human beings, or in regular daily communication with any but my traveling partner…and you, right here. Facebook gets a share of my attention, but it rarely feels like ‘conversation’ as much as it feels like passing notes in class. I am, oddly, not at all talkative – until you place another human being in front of me. Then… yeah. I don’t seem to even notice how continuous the flow of words are then. Eventually, I may become aware that I’ve gone on too long, but… I lack sensitivity to those cues. I am a beginner, still working around the edges of life’s curriculum, and hoping for a passing grade reflected in good quality of life, and good relationships over time. I am learning to be patient with myself – it’s slow going on some points.

I interrupt a lot. I’m working on it, however it can be slow going when I lack continuous awareness of my tendency to snag any breathing space between someone else’s use of language to continue my own. It’s rude – admittedly so, but without ill will, I assure you. My brain injury doesn’t excuse the resulting poor behavior, just puts the challenge in front of me (often) to be addressed over time. What’s so irksome for me is that I really enjoy listening to other people – they have stories to tell, a different perspective and history than my own, they are a living record of their slice of the human experience – and I love hearing about it. I want to know more…If I can only stop myself talking.

I was concerned that living alone would worsen the tendency to talk over people, to interrupt people, or to ‘talk too much’ (I define ‘talking too much’ as exceeding that point at which people no longer want to listen, or having crossed some boundary by continuing the discussion). Interestingly, that seems not to be the case in conversation at all; I’m finding it somewhat easier not to interrupt – perhaps simply losing the habit of continuous speech because I am not with people almost 24/7? On the other hand…my writing tends to be somewhat more verbose these days, exceeding 1k words in almost every post. Seems harmless…you can always set it aside and come back to it later. Or not.

I think my point this morning is that I had some expectations of myself and my behavior in the context of living alone that seemed well supported by what I understood about myself, and those expectations proved to be every bit as unreliable as any other untested expectations. I was incorrect. It seems instead that living alone is doing something positive to help me build the skills to bridge the communication gaps that have gotten in the way for so long. (I’ve wrecked some valuable relationships because someone dear to me just couldn’t get a word in edgewise. Ever.)

"Taking Another Look at Me" 11" x 14" acrylic on canvas w/mirror 2011

“Taking Another Look at Me” 11″ x 14″ acrylic on canvas w/mirror 2011

Part of my commitment to myself this past Independence Day is to allow myself – to require myself – to step away from my own assumptions about who I am, and take another look at the woman in the mirror – change is, and perspective matters. What about you? When was the last time you took a look at who you are with beginner’s eyes, really accepted the changes that have molded you over time, and paused to reflect on where you are right now, with yourself, with who you are, and with what  you really want of life? When was the last time you swept away the expectations and assumptions that hold you back, and limit your decision-making freedom, or your growth?

What could be more worthy of study than communication? Even though we are each having our own experience, we are all in this together.

What could be more worthy of study than communication? Even though we are each having our own experience, we are all in this together. (detail from “Communion” )

Today it won’t take 1k words to be this woman I am, and to be open to the vast number of options, decisions, choices I am free to make. If I can let go of my assumptions about myself, if I can set aside my expectations of myself based on those assumptions… can I similarly do so in all my interactions, with each person…today? It’s a good start on changing the world. (I just need to give the world room to get a word in edgewise!)

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Categories art and the artist, Brain Injury, Free Will, Logic & Reason, Love, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Relationships, Summer, The Art of Being, The Big 5, Uncategorized, Words
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