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The Juice

June 18, 2015 //
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My first couple weeks living alone I struggled with what felt, physically and emotionally, very much like… withdrawals. It was puzzling, and I rode it out confident that all such things pass with time. I practiced good practices, treated myself with compassion, and sort of … kept an eye on it, from the perspective of a lifetime living in this fragile vessel, and a certain wonder… somewhere between “omfg – what’s wrong now??’ and ‘huh, this is sort of odd’. It did pass, and my heart settled down with settling into new routines. Yesterday, I realized more fully what was driving those sensations, that experience of ‘withdrawal’, and had to admit with some amusement that it was an experience only the digital age could produce…loss of near-continuous communication through digital media of a variety of sorts. Living in my own space now, there is simply less back and forth delivery of words…words about packages, about picking up things from the store, about arrival times here or there, about delays in this or that, expectation setting words in a household of multiple adults… it initially created a feeling of isolation and sometimes of loneliness to lose all that. That, too, passed.

Yesterday, I was enjoying the day on this entirely other level, something I haven’t felt in a very long time. A decade or more, maybe – certainly something that precedes all existing/recent romantic or sexual relationships, until yesterday. The feeling got my attention – I had missed it, I know, because I felt that thought pretty early in the day. “I’ve missed this!” as I smiled through my morning. “I’ve missed this!” as I walked to work. It nagged at me; I didn’t have the words for what I was feeling. Something like happy, something like eager… something with a connection…something with power and delight… present, aware, self-assured, confident… and less about an event or experience I have already had – more about something I might experience soon. I felt it in my skin, in my smile, in the colors of the day…

Sometimes the path is not obvious.

Sometimes the path is not obvious.

I’m not sure I have all the right words for it, even now. I have some words, though. I got my “juice” back. I know, I know… how helpful is that? Not very. Still, it’s a start. I even ‘get it’ – technology took my juice when it put real-time communication in my hands, during a relationship with someone willing to use it nearly continuously. Habits develop over time, and whatever we practice becomes part of who we are. Over the years I got used to constant check-ins, updates, and expectation-setting real-time, even developing skill at and preference for deeply emotional conversations via email…and lost my ‘juice’. I lost the delight and intensity of anticipation. I lost the utter confidence in someone else’s affection. I began to rely on continuous reassurance and trickling information on tap. It became a character flaw.

Enjoying a busy work day wedged between a delightful evening with a wanderer, and a delightful evening with my traveling partner, and not hearing from either during the day, I realized I didn’t need any additional communication – I was enjoying the anticipation of our next meeting, our future time together, other days, other nights, other dinners, other dips in the pool, other laughter… and I was reminded how much I once thrived with the yearning and anticipation that filled my days before email, before instant messaging, and before smart phones. Oh, I’m not setting aside my pocket brain – I rely on my smart phone quite a lot, and the technology delights me, too – but I am suddenly free of the attachment to the faux connection of continuous near-real-time communication. In letting it go…I got my ‘juice’ back. Fueled by anticipation, by desire, by joy – the very real joy of real connections, with conversation, eye contact, and touch, and the very real desire to feel those things again, without the methadone of less satisfying digital connections, I created the very real excitement of anticipation, and the mammalian urgency to connect, to touch, to talk. There’s power in real. I enjoyed a fantastic day.

I love digital media for connecting across miles, and years. I wouldn’t give up Facebook unless something came along that connects me with faraway friends more efficiently – but the here and now of love and lust are damaged by continuous pinging, and the badminton of trivial words. I get it. As much as anything, this is a thank you note to the wanderer and my traveling partner. I am free! 🙂 I am also laughing – it’s perhaps just a bit silly to celebrate something so small as such a big deal…only…this is a wonderful state of being, and I do love it. The excitement of yearning, of anticipating, of daydreaming…without the insecurity of ‘hasn’t gotten back to me yet’ is really quite deliciously lovely.

Thanks guys, I’ll be pinging on you a lot less. I get it, now. Thanks for the run way lights. I landed safely on the tiny private island of my own ‘now’, in my own experience. ❤

 

 

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

Definition

June 16, 2015 //
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I stood in the shower smiling this morning, feeling comfortable, and enjoying the sensation of warm water over skin. The bathroom is small, and the standing room is quite limited. I don’t mind it much at all; the bathtub is quite large, and of a shape and design that allows it to fill and hold water sufficiently deep to properly soak, quite comfortably. The bathtub makes the small bathroom utterly insignificant. The bathtub was a detail I shopped for specifically while I was looking for a place to call home – it matters to me, and because that is the case with regards to the bathtub, taking care of me meant being attentive to this detail.

Soaking in a different tub, on a different day, in another life.

Soaking in a different tub, on a different day, in another life.

What matters most to you? Small details, too, do you take a moment to consider you while you are planning your day, planning a move, planning your social calendar, your relationships, your choices? Do you also pause to consider love, and what matters to those dear to you? Who is at the top of your agenda? If the person at the top of your list isn’t you…why isn’t it? If it is you, do you maintain that placement at the expense of others dear to you? Questions on a Tuesday.

I am listening to music, and listening to a pop star plead for someone to come and rescue her, to save her life, to turn her on…I love the track, but watching the video and listening to the lyrics is a tad dismaying if I give it too much attention. Even as a metaphor, reaching for an external solution to feeling unsafe, to feeling incomplete, and to be brought to life by some other being troubles me, now; all of that is within my own control, built on my choices and my will. Art doing its thing this morning – and doing it well – I am provoked to think more deeply about love, lust, emotional self-sufficiency, and the defining of self. I find myself asking powerful questions about how I define who I am, and how I answer the questions ‘what moves me?’ and ‘what do I want?’. Who I am is self-defined. This morning I recognize how much and how often I have failed myself by putting that power in other hands.

"Portrait of the Artist's Tears" watercolor on paper 5" x 7" 1985

“Portrait of the Artist’s Tears” watercolor on paper 5″ x 7″ 1985

I am thinking of love and lovers, and giving consideration to what it means to free oneself from external definition. I am asking myself questions about what I want from a lover, and whether it is something I could be providing myself? I am enjoying being so much more free of external definition, and the [perceived, subjective] need to satisfy the expectations of others. I am awakening to the realization that this quality of life is sufficiently important to me that I will likely continue to live alone until I understand it well enough to maintain it even when cohabiting. The freedom of it is intoxicating.

"Joy" watercolor on paper, 6" x 8" 1995

“Joy” watercolor on paper, 6″ x 8″ 1995 (sorry about the camera flare, this delicate watercolor is under protective glass)

I still love the track, and the video, enough to listen to it again. That’s another lovely quality to art; I don’t have to agree with what it says to me in order to enjoy it, and there too, I bring the message with me, the context of my understanding is my own.

"Emotion and Reason" 18" x 24" acrylic on canvas w/ceramic and glow. 2012

“Emotion and Reason” 18″ x 24″ acrylic on canvas w/ceramic and glow. 2012

Today is a good day to put things in context, to ask powerful questions, to move on to other things before answering them – I find it is the questions that have the power, answers tend to impose definitions and limits. Today is a good day to limitless, and free of external definition. Today is a good day to put me at the top of my list, without crossing off those dear to me; they have their place in my experience, too. Today is a good day for verbs – and music. 🙂

Being, and becoming. Having my own experience.

Being, and becoming. Having my own experience.

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Categories Art, art and the artist, Free Will, Healthy Living, Logic & Reason, Love, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Perspective, Relationships, Summer, The Art of Being, The Big 5, women, Words

Progress and Commuting

June 8, 2015 //
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The apartment didn’t cool off much yesterday. During the night I slept on top of the bed covers until some moment in the wee hours when I realized in my sleep that I felt cold and contentedly pulled the covers over myself. The alarm went off immediately. I flopped over onto my back with a grin in the darkness; it was just more humorous than anything else. Humorous because it was very much a matter of perspective in the first place; the apartment was still quite warm and a bit stuffy. No music this morning, instead I took time before coffee to open the windows, and to carefully replace the spider discouraging fabric in the window channels, blocking the gap in the screens and letting the early morning breeze blow through to cool things down before I leave for work.

A cool shower refreshed me nicely, and the water for my coffee was ready by the time I was dried off and dressed. Yoga and meditation to birdsong and the sound of traffic at the nearby busy street was satisfying and I am not in pain today. One lovely advantage to the hot dry days of summer is that my arthritis is so much less aggravating. I get weeks of very little pain, and reduced need for pain management. I look around my living room contentedly; it reflects who I am. I sip my coffee. I feel relaxed and comfortable.

A commute covers the same ground day after day - a journey takes us somewhere new.

A commute covers the same ground day after day – a journey takes me somewhere new.

I take some moments to consider the number of times I have started down the path of finding real emotional wellness…and the number of times those attempts have been stalled by one circumstance or another, and how my own issues have held me back, and how I have allowed or fostered those failures; sometimes out of fear, sometimes out of loyalty, sometimes because the process of failing, itself, had been mistaken for progress. There has, each time, been this sort of ‘this far and no farther’ moment – and each attempt would begin again, from a starting a point, moving forward to that moment when I would be stalled, or turned back, and the whole thing would repeat some other year, or in the next relationship, or after some terrible moment of despair. It’s been a bit more like ‘commuting’ than a journey many times. This morning, waking in this safe comfortable space, waking and feeling my consciousness begin with contentment from the moment I wake, I see that this has become truly a journey at some point, and I pause to recognize and appreciate how far I have come. There is farther to go. Maybe I really needed to retread some of the progress I have made over the years, and maybe every attempt to find my way through the chaos and damage was utterly necessary for some greater understanding. Maybe I wasn’t ‘ready’. Maybe, as it so often seemed, some person or another in my life at the time was themselves unready for [my] growth and change, or perhaps my wellness was not to their advantage. (People who encourage continued growth with the commitment of my traveling partner are very rare.) I know that none of those things matter having moved beyond those moments, and relationships. The mistake of thinking those things are relevant has often held me back needlessly.

This morning I relax and take care of me without stress or doubt. My coffee is tasty and I am content to let myself wake up in the time it takes to do so gently. My routine this morning lacks rigid order; I take the tasks as they come, and in the order that seems practical in this moment. It’s enough. Hell, it’s more than enough. It’s a lovely morning.

Part of taking care of me happens in the kitchen with wholesome fresh foods, and appropriate portions. In the summer heat, I enjoy a homemade granita, made with much less sugar than commercial frozen treats.

Part of taking care of me happens in the kitchen with wholesome fresh foods, and appropriate portions. In the summer heat, I enjoy a homemade granita, made with much less sugar than commercial frozen treats.

There is time, this morning, for a healthy breakfast (oatmeal with fresh fruit and some nuts sounds good this morning), and study; I’ve returned to my reading list, myself, because the context of my experience has changed significantly, and there is benefit in deeper study of science and practices that are specifically relevant to my experience. I most particularly want to spend time studying ‘listening deeply’ and the communication and mindfulness practices associated with that idea, and what sorts of things I can do to change how my injury disrupts the natural flow of dialogue (I interrupt a lot, and my speech suffers from similar ‘run on sentences’ as I inflict on you here). There’s work to be done! 🙂

My birthday is coming. 52. It’s not a major milestone as birthday goes, but from a personal perspective on progress, I am proud of myself for how far I have come since that bleak December [2012] when I finally stopped ‘commuting’, and began this journey toward real wellness.

Today is a good day for practicing good practices. Today is a good day for critical thought – without being critical or unkind. Today is a good day to enjoy a journey that has taken me this far, and promises to take me much further. Today is a good day to appreciate the many perspectives on my experience.

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Categories Brain Injury, Free Will, Healthy Living, Love, Mindfulness, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Relationships, Sleepless Nights, Summer, The Art of Being, The Big 5

Long Distance Connection

June 6, 2015 //
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Another morning, another day. The cool air of morning blows through the apartment cooling things off. I feel less hesitant to open the windows having treated the window screens with pyrethrum, and all the door jams, window frames, carpets, nooks, crannies and anything else that seemed treatable, and potentially spider housing. I did much of it last evening, then went for a walk while the vapor hazard dissipated somewhat. Yes, multiple spider bites itch so much that I chose to suspend my preference to avoid household poisons. Now it is a matter of time, and the bites I already have will stop itching and heal.

This itching isn’t inconsequential; it makes me ferociously cross, and almost mad with distraction. I repeatedly consider cancelling my weekend plans, knowing how hard it will be to focus on anything else but this itching…but I am feeling moody, horny, lonely, and the itching itself would benefit from something that could distract me from it. Connecting with human beings outside the office would do me good – I enjoy solitude, but once it cross over to the dark side (loneliness), it becomes a very different experience.

Actual rejection, or mistreatment, may move me to put distance between myself and another human being – but it doesn’t change the very real human need for social contact that I have. The desire to avoid hurting someone who matters greatly to me may also move me to put some distance between me, and that dear one, if I don’t know another course of action, or lack skill at managing whatever the issue is (in this case, for example, this infernal itching). That’s very different from walking away from poor treatment, though, and now that my traveling partner and I live quite separately, maintaining a ‘long distance connection’ skillfully becomes urgently important to me. I know what my needs are…but I would be a fool to assume I know his, aside from what he has explicitly shared. At this particular time in our lives, our differences seem to be more profound that our common ground. This would seem to require careful expectation setting, clear communication, openness, good-natured acceptance, honesty, frankness, humor…and generous helpings of love and encouragement. We’ve both changed over the years, each picked up some baggage of our own – some shared, some very individual. Words on a page don’t do justice to the complex beauty of love. We seem, for now, to need things we are not able to provide for each other. Love needs what it needs to thrive – and so do I, and so does my traveling partner. We’re both very human.

Sometimes this can feel a very lonely journey; we are not alone. <3 Detail of "Communion" 24" x 36" acrylic on canvas w/ceramic, 2011

Sometimes this can feel a very lonely journey; we are not alone. ❤
Detail of “Communion” 24″ x 36″ acrylic on canvas w/ceramic, 2011

My traveling partner matters too much to me to treat him poorly by design, or even predictably; I actively avoid behavior and choices that have that outcome. This weekend that seems to suggest postponing plans to hang out would be wise…and still needing human contact, connection, and companionship I chose to keep plans to have brunch with an old friend, and go to the Farmer’s Market later with a friend who is newer in my experience, both far less likely to be hurt by any irritability or distraction on my part. I managed, somehow, to screw up managing my social life such that my traveling partner may have felt hurt or rejected, instead of valued and respected. I find myself, as a result, teetering on the edge of cancelling all my plans – because hurting someone so dear to me is so uncomfortable I would rather inflict that pain on myself, and simply endure the loneliness.  What are the best practices to practice here?  I know one thing – I am staring directly into the heart of one reason I moved into my own place; I have become so attached to my traveling partner that I have difficulty taking care of me, and this continues to stall my progress in therapy (and life) as I fight myself for control of my experience while I simultaneously try to hand it over to someone who loves me so dearly that he doesn’t want that kind of power. These are issues that are in no way about him, as a person, or about love as an experience – they are at the heart of my chaos and damage, constructs that have existed for so long within my messed up programming that I am often unaware of them as they play out again and again to my detriment. At long last, I am standing on the edge of real wellness, but to get there I am going to have to fight some heavy weight demons, without a sidekick, without a hero riding in to save me, without magical weapons, and probably in incredibly shitty conditions. (Oh, hey, cue the spiders!!)

So…I keep turning the puzzle over in my head…how do I best take care of me today? How do I best take care of love? How do I nurture a long distance connection with consideration and gracious acceptance of circumstances, and still treating myself well? What is enough communication? What is too little? We travel the same distance to see each other, when we do; for me that’s 90 minutes on public transportation, for him that’s 30 minutes in the car. When I consider going to see him, the time and distance have little importance to me. He cautions me in a practical way that he isn’t always going to want to spend half an hour driving to see me, when we discuss making plans for regular time together. I need the planning. He needs the flexibility. We are different people. Hell, he pointed out, himself, that I would benefit from spending more time with other friends, getting out into the world more, doing the things I love more – and all that is true. The truth of it has nothing to do with his emotional experience of not being part of it. He is also having his own experience.

Some of the most important questions I ask myself are questions that he asked me first… Mortality being what it is, I experience doubt – and my demons do their happy dance, and my brain turns the immense power it has to create on me directly.  I worry that these precious minutes are lost, and I grieve with my whole heart for what I don’t have right now…but damn…perspective has its moment to shine, too, and I recognize the incredible wonder and joy I have experienced thus far. It’s a journey. Keeping in mind I am making the map as I go, it’s no great surprise that I have doubts, fears, worries, concerns, heartache…and all in equal and reciprocal measure to the capacity I also have for joy, delight, love, wonder, passion, creativity, and all of it leading me on a student’s path through life’s curriculum. It’s a journey. There is distance to travel, and distance to experience. There is a hearty helping of verbs – and I have to choose those wisely and act upon them with my will. My results are absolutely going to vary – and I’m not in it alone, although I am having my own experience.

...with what matters most. "You Always Have My Heart" 8" x 10" acrylic on canvas with glow.

…with what matters most.
“You Always Have My Heart” 8″ x 10″ acrylic on canvas with glow.

Today I am taking care of me, and hoping that love can be nurtured across distance and that I can learn to do it skillfully. Taking care of me also means allowing my dear ones their own experience, their own emotions, their own choices – without resistance. Taking care of me requires that I experience my own emotions with self-compassion, respect, and consideration, and make my own choices in the best way I can, myself, that meet my needs over time.  A shared journey is not indentured servitude, bondage, or a sentence – it is a choice, made with love. So…now I need to learn not to punish myself for experiences that are not mine. That’s going to take some practice. Learning to listen deeply is critical, and figuring out how to master some control over my injury is tied for first place.

Why, yes, I think I will, thanks. :-)

Why, yes, I think I will, thanks. 🙂

Today is a good day to practice. Today is a good day to smile in the sunshine and have brunch with a friend. Today is a good day to love from afar and trust that love is, and that loving myself matters, too.

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Categories art and the artist, Brain Injury, Free Will, Healthy Living, Love, Metaphors, Mindfulness, more than a little bit of bitching, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Relationships, The Art of Being, The Big 5, women, Words

A French Press and a Playlist

June 2, 2015 //
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This morning I woke, unexpectedly, at the sound of the alarm. I had called it a night fairly early, still feeling the fatigue of moving in sore muscles, and the effects of reduced sleep quality over many days. Last night, though, was different – I fell asleep pretty quickly, slept deeply, and through the night. I woke feeling like dancing. No kidding – I literally woke feeling like dancing. It matters [for me] that much to enjoy good quality sleep.

I put on water to boil and danced through “Happy“. I took my new French press down from its place in the cupboard and ground coffee sufficient for two cups and got it ready for hot water, and danced through “Uptown Funk” and “Turn Down for What?“. I added water to coffee, and used “Freek-a-Leek” as my timer, and danced through that, too. I poured my coffee, set it aside, and danced through “Goodies“, and “Anaconda” before sitting down to sip my coffee, and write – and let’s be honest with each other – to recover my breath. 🙂 This is the sort of morning that is hard to have without disturbing other members of a household – not everyone wants to wake up to a great beat and some bass first thing in the morning. Score one more point for living alone! lol

The  morning tends to remind me how much value there is in the quality of the music in my environment, and I find myself eager to get the stereo hooked up and test drive my speakers in this smaller space. I’ve been fussing over how hard they are to decorate around…but…that’s significantly eased if the issue is not about placement of a colossal monitor for watching movies… if it’s just about the music, that’s a game changer. I spent more adult years without a television than with one. Perhaps I can look at this challenge from a more useful perspective. 🙂

Perspective is a big deal. I easily wander from my intended path when I am distracted by lost perspective, or focused on a vantage point on circumstances that tells me only one part of a story, or obscures useful details. Moving into this small space that is entirely my own to manage and arrange is a powerful reminder that perspective itself is also about choices. I sip my coffee contentedly, enjoying the feeling of muscles warmed by exercise, and a heart uplifted by ‘a joyful noise’, and filled with the delight in the small decisions that make this space more me than not… Even in this endeavor, at least for now, there are more questions than answers. T.V. or no T.V? Microwave or no microwave? Which space-saving measures work for me? A few large paintings on the walls, or a lot of little ones? Rugs over carpet, or some other solution to cables or cords that may cross the floor? (Maybe I want to take the time to lift the carpet carefully, run the cords under it, and reinstall the carpet and also improve the lay of the carpet in the process? I have the skills to do it from a prior partnership.) Curtains over blinds? (Okay, okay – some of these have very obvious answers for me, personally  – I mean, hell yes there will be curtains over the damned blinds. lol The room doesn’t look finished to me without them.) You get my point, I’m sure – it’s the small things that make a space feel comfortable for me and reflect my taste.

Choices of all sorts - even choosing from the choices is part of the experience.

Choices of all sorts – even choosing from the choices is part of the experience.

This change in lifestyle is already having a lot of impact on my experience day-to-day, in powerful positive ways. I feel more myself, and this sensation is almost intoxicating, on a morning when I can wake up, turn the stereo on, and dance through my morning. 🙂

There are some eye-opening, horizon-broadening, perspective-enhancing, mind-opening opportunities on the path ahead…I see them on this map I have made with my choices. More verbs involved, sure, and I am eager to see the path unwind ahead of me. Small things (like room to live my own values) become bigger things (like room to paint) and change is; all that is needed from me is the power of my choices, and the result of my actions. Exciting.

Embracing this lovely moment is also a choice.

Embracing this lovely moment is also a choice.

Today is a good day to dance, and to choose. Today is a good day to accept what I love about me, and invest in those qualities without hesitation or doubt. Today is a good day for love – and I think I’ll have some of that for myself, from me, too. Today is a good day to enjoy the power of my choices.

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