Archives for posts with tag: perspective

Another lovely quiet morning follows a lovely quiet evening. I have feelings that fit figures of speech such as ‘I’m really on to something!’ or ‘I found it!’. I am aware that these feelings, like any feelings, are feelings – lacking substance or reality independent of my experience. I enjoy them without becoming invested in them, or building expectations that this sensation of comfort, contentment, and some not yet clearly defined feeling are permanent or lasting. No emotions are permanent or particularly lasting. Emotions come and go.  Our inner world is very fluid, very malleable, very changeable. Change is. For now, though, these are the feelings I am experiencing, and it is a pleasant quiet morning.

One moment, one flower - we each blossom in our own time.

One moment, one flower – we each blossom in our own time.

The title is not ‘finding my way’ this morning…because somehow that implies there may be only one such way of  my own, and I am coming to understand that while ‘my way’ is my own, and my journey is my own, and my choices are my own…there are so many options on a such vast menu of choices that this morning I feel less comfortable implying that any one way is the only one, mine or otherwise. I am my own cartographer, and I choose my steps, choose my path, choose my actions (and even choose what I think those choices may be).

This week I have had multiple opportunities to do what I can to be ‘supportive’ for friends suffering one or more of life’s hurts. (I am not very good at it, although I mean well.) People hurt. People suffer. Sometimes people even choose to do so. That’s hard for me to watch. I want to say ‘hey, choose differently…’, and sometimes I even do say something quite like that, but I know from my own suffering that it can be hard to hear messages of free will and choice and good self-care when we hurt. What is it about the suffering that can make it so difficult to turn away from it, when we suffer? It is undeniably true, in my own experience, that practicing mindfulness, meditation, and good self-care are often quite enough to ease my suffering, however much I am hurting. It is also equally true that knowing this is not enough to ensure that I reliably take advantage of that knowledge, myself. I see the challenge reflected back at me in the suffering of friends and those dear to me; they, too, find it difficult to turn away from suffering, and to choose good self-care, balance, perspective, and to take advantage of the tools in their emotional toolkit to sooth their own suffering through careful application of some verbs and choices (and many of them are not even a little bit ‘broken’).  Life’s curriculum, this week, is enhanced by case studies. We are each having our own experience… we are all in this together.

What is it that stops us from embracing all our choices, or from maintaining broad perspective, or from remembering that ‘this too shall pass’? I am still more about questions that answers.

There is value in considering the vastness of our potential, and our options.

There is value in considering the vastness of our potential, and our options.

Today is a good day to share without pushing, and to listen deeply. Today is a good day for affection, good-natured appreciation of the small things, and kindness. Today is a good day to be practical, and to be hopeful. Today is a good day to make good choices. Today is a good day to enjoy what matters most, and to invest deeply in what I love. Today is a good day to change a world.

It’s been a lovely weekend, generally. The sunshine, mild weather, and the comfortable intimacy and camaraderie of long-standing love were welcome, and I’ve very much enjoyed the experience. Still human, still dealing with my chaos and damage, still practicing practices, investing in growth, studying the basics of love and The Art of Being, so the weekend has had the occasional moment like clouds passing by.

Flowers and sunshine, a favorite way to get perspective.

Flowers and sunshine, a favorite way to get perspective.

One of the most difficult things to learn, for me, is to appreciate and value my successes, myself, even the small ones. It’s especially difficult to do if I am busily consumed by being hard on myself for something that didn’t go well, or feels like a failure, or a mistake. Celebrating the win has so much value, though, and counts for so little in my implicit memory without the additional focus and repetition; I only need to hear how horribly wrong something has gone once to feel the full weight of circumstances and consequences, and to punish myself with self-criticism, frustration, and disappointment. There are verbs involved, these are not passive processes; I invest in my emotional experience, and I have choices. The choices are not always easy, or obvious, and sometimes I am fighting myself with will that has been damaged by years of learned helplessness.

Flowers exist in many forms, and colors, with a variety of scents, thriving in many different environments; there's a metaphor there.

Flowers exist in many forms, and colors, with a variety of scents, thriving in many different environments; there’s a metaphor there.

The PTSD has its moment to shine, of course, and this weekend I learned some new things about what I may be reacting to, under some conditions that have mystified me for a long while. We are each having our own experience, and any one of us understands our own pain far more easily than we understand anyone else’s. Many unexpected – and valued –  insights come from others. Finding both compassion and self-compassion without becoming distracted by the volatility of emotions in the moment is rather like I imagine it might be to walk a high-wire in a windstorm, blind-folded with boots on.

Wind-tossed flowers  are no less lovely because they are difficult to photograph.

Wind-tossed flowers are no less lovely because they are difficult to photograph.

It’s still been a lovely weekend full of flowers, and sunshine, and love…fearless, undeniable, passionate, robust, straight-up dependable love. Walking love’s path isn’t always soft grass on bare feet, that’s all – sometimes it is taking careful, considerate, mindful steps across a construction site littered with project scraps, and the occasional jagged something-or-other that is too easy to trip over. There are verbs involved. Sometimes emotion overcomes reason, however briefly. There’s no loss of love. I sit smiling and thinking of my traveling partner, and this journey that has taken us so far together, and considering the small wins, and small errors, mindful of the potential to learn and grow and become more the woman I most want to be.  Love is worthy of the investment in time, growth, and deep listening.

Being patience and looking closer pays off.

Being patient and looking closer pays off.

Love is a big deal. Beginning with me, and filling this fragile vessel with all the goodness of heart, consideration, compassion, and regard that I might offer to someone I love begins with treating myself with that same goodness of heart, consideration, compassion, and regard. It looks easy on paper. In practice, I find that I easily undermine my efforts there when I put concerns about someone who matters ahead of letting me matter, first. It’s a strange thing. If I worry, for example, about someone’s feelings being hurt if I am ‘too curt’ with them about distracting me with conversation while I am working on something, instead of simply setting that boundary in an uncomplicated way, I increase the likelihood that I may express myself poorly, being vague, or understating my boundary, or becoming frustrated or resentful before speaking up about it. I create a difficulty for myself that taking care of me in a more authentic way would have prevented, if I speak up simply and clearly. As life lesson’s go, an important one.

However humble, even small successes are worthy of a moment of appreciation.

However humble, even small successes are worthy of a moment of appreciation.

Still…it’s a lovely weekend. Today is a good day to grow. Today is a good day to appreciate the growth that has already been achieved. Today is a good day to let go of taking things personally. Today is a good day to simply be. Today is a good day for love – and flowers.

There is value in perspective, and in enjoying the moment.

There is value in perspective, and in enjoying the moment.

I slept well and deeply last night. I woke feeling stiff, and in pain, but in a generally positive place emotionally. It’s an ordinary enough Wednesday. I sip my coffee and consider how meaningless the sentence “It’s an ordinary enough Wednesday” actually is, if one does not know the meaning of the word ‘Wednesday’. It’s quite difficult to have a good quality discussion on a topic, if the participants don’t share a similar understanding of how the words being used are defined. It’s a huge part of the ‘each having our own experience’ puzzle; the way we understand the world, ourselves, and the way we use language have the potential to be misunderstood.

We are each having our own experience.

As with the definitions of words in the spoken and written language we use, our assumptions ‘about’ things and people going on around us define other characteristics of the world, and our experience; our assumptions are quite individual and personal, and may not be shared by others. The assumptions we each make may not even be ‘accurate’ when compared to what can be shown empirically, tested, or verified.

We are each having our own experience – and it may not be ‘real’… or to be more reasonable, it may not be anything at all like the experience a large percentage of other people are having, seem to be having, say they are having – or is being held out as some sort of defining ‘norm’. It’s our own. Exclusively and entirely ours – and mostly chosen, and often based on our assumptions. To be clear, I’m not attempting to say that we are ‘at fault’, ourselves, when someone else acts against us violently, or when we must endure non-consensual experiences inflicted upon us. We can make use of our free will to take action, and some of the actions taken in the world are inflicted on someone, by another, causing pain, injury, or assorted other negative outcomes.

Some of the most horrible things that occur in the world are defended, and often by a great many people, using assumptions and definitions to support them, while the suffering is decried by others, also based on assumptions and definitions. It’s messy. Who is ‘right’? Does the injured party define the circumstances because they are injured by them? Does an aggressor define the circumstances, free to do so based on ‘intent’ versus ‘outcome’? We each have our opportunity in life to examine this puzzle closely; we will each hurt someone, sometime, and we are each at some point hurt, ourselves. When we are hurt, does the intent of the one who hurt us matter more than our pain? When we have injured someone else, which thing is more significant to us: explaining why we didn’t mean our actions to cause injury, why our actions ‘shouldn’t have’ caused injury, or that someone is hurt? Is being ‘right’ more important than treating each other well?

We are each  having our own experience – and I can’t answer my questions for anyone but me, really. I am thinking these things over, myself, because ‘reciprocity’ is on my mind; it’s one of my Big 5 relationship values. Reciprocity, from my perspective, might mean everyone takes turns on a household task, or it might mean that one person does a specific thing routinely because they don’t mind or have unique skill at it, while others also take on tasks similarly suited to their nature in equal measure, thus distributing the work in a way that is balanced and fair to all. Reciprocity can mean ‘taking turns’. Reciprocity, emotionally, means I give support in equal measure to receiving it, and that I back my partners goals and growth equally with my own. “Equal”, “balanced”, “fair” and “reciprocal” are all words, and because we are individuals, we define them for ourselves, quite individually. My need for reciprocity is not necessarily shared by others; it is my own choice to value this quality in my relationships, and to foster it in my own experience. I choose whether to build relationships with individuals, and can’t force my values on them. Sitting here sipping my coffee and considering reciprocity as a relationship value I realize that one thing I think is utterly urgent to be reciprocal with is consideration, itself. Reciprocity is hard to achieve if I don’t take time to consider what has value to others, what their needs may be… Oh, damn. Another definition would be needed… “need” versus “want”.

Each having our own experience…and it hits me hard, as I down my last gulp of now cold coffee; if I am engaged and present in my own experience, awake, aware, and observing the experiences of others while doing so…making the wisest choices I can to take care of me, and meet my own needs over time…listening deeply when others interact with me…practicing non-harm, compassion, and self-compassion…treating myself truly well, and living beautifully…it sounds rather as if on those terms, reciprocity happens, consideration is, and The Big 5 dovetails quite seamlessly with The Art of Being. So…this tells me living my own experience fully, and mindfully walking my path each day is ‘all’ that is required to live a life that is generally contented and joyful. There’s definitely a lesson about attachment sneaking in there, too. My definitions, my values, my goals…your results may vary.

I am a flower, blooming in my own time.

I am a flower, blooming in my own time.

Today is a good day to enjoy the person in the mirror. Today is a good day to do my best. Today is a good day to build emotional resilience and self-sufficiency, appreciating how far I’ve come, and what a lovely journey it generally is. Today is a good day to listen deeply, to love well, and to savor being okay right now.

A quality of The Art of Being struck me with force yesterday; there is no ‘blank canvas’ once we get started, not generally. We only get the one blank canvas, and ever after must add, correct, adjust, change, modify, paint over, or enjoy the work in progress, as is it is. I’m not complaining; it’s the biggest canvas ever, and when we get started it seems as if there is no likelihood of filling it with our vision – it’s that huge. When we start, we lack vision, we lack composition, we lack technique – but we also lack doubt, and we are not self-conscious about The Art of Being; we begin the thing fully engaged and present…and doodling, metaphorically. I mean…few of us are, as children, what we will become as adults.

"Broken" 14" x 18" acrylic and mixed media with glow.

“Broken” 14″ x 18″ acrylic and mixed media with glow. 2012

Yesterday, a bad bit of earlier work beneath some lovely very new work on the canvas of my experience produced a predictable enough moment of misunderstanding. I’ve spent enough time wading through the wreckage that it feels fairly normal…I forgot that it is ‘wreckage’, and shards of chaos and damage. Violence and ancient pain have left their mark on me, and although most days it’s just a smudge on the corner of my canvas, yesterday it was as if India ink had been spilled, blotting out a bit of the good work of later years, seeping through from underneath.  For just a moment, it felt as if perhaps the whole piece was ruined – it can so easily look that way if I forget that my metaphorical canvas never dries, and is never completed.

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

“You Always Have My Heart” 8″ x 10″ acrylic on canvas with glow. 2014

The challenge, and the life lesson, are once again about attachment. Attachment to outcomes, to emotions, to people, to moments – however lovely, moments are still quite fleeting, ephemeral, and in a sense quite unrepeatably unique. Life is always ‘live’. People persist in being quite human. The shadows cast by past violence are but shadows, however ‘real’ they feel in some later moment. Then there’s this; because so much of my experience is ‘made up’ content built of my assumptions, my thoughts, and my memories, filtered through my values, prejudices, and perspective, I am very much at risk of becoming attached to something that doesn’t really exist, isn’t what I perceive it to be, or isn’t shared in the way I may want it to be. The Art of Being is art because the limitless power to create even who I am has no rule book, no instruction manual, no single scalable process with a reliable error-correction cycle, no universally shared measurable quality that all agree is ideal…I choose who I am, I choose my words, I live my life…but it isn’t ‘paint by numbers’, and some days it obviously lacks technique, or skill…some days the art doesn’t move me, some days it isn’t pretty.

Unfinished canvas...what will it become when the moment arrives?

Unfinished canvas…what will it become when the moment arrives?

Take a moment to consider how little technical mastery, great design, composition, fame, or expertise actually matter when we see something that delights us aesthetically. I have been as captivated by a child’s unskilled painting as by a masterpiece; the engineering and craftsmanship are not the defining qualities of ‘art’, although some art certainly shows amazing engineering and craftsmanship.  I am finding this true of life as art, too. What moves us isn’t always easy to understand. Certainly, what moves us isn’t always understood by others.

"Kuwait; Oil Fires" 26" x 48" oil on silk.

“Kuwait; Oil Fires” 26″ x 48″ oil on silk. 1992

The Art of Being as an approach to learning life’s lessons, living beautifully and mindfully, and being the woman I most want to be is a powerful act of self-compassion, and self-nurturing; as a metaphor it allows me to take a step back, and view life from another perspective, as an artist at work on something wonderful might be inclined to do, reconsidering something on the canvas, and taking time to touch it up, or understand it differently.

"Communion" 24" x 36" acrylic on canvas w/ceramic details 2010

“Communion” 24″ x 36″ acrylic on canvas w/ceramic details 2010

Today is a good day for a metaphor. Today is a good day for life as art, and to study The Art of Being. Today is a good day to feel pleasure in spite of heart ache, and to love the canvas in front of me enough to keep working on it – and to do my best work, mindfully, and with love.

"The Stillness Within" 8" x 10" acrylic on canvas with glow.

“The Stillness Within” 8″ x 10″ acrylic on canvas with glow. 2014

I find it interesting to notice how much longer a weekend feels when I really take the time to invest in exceptional self-care, and really make a point of relaxing, and savoring the simple sweet moments that are often so common – and so easily overlooked. Is life ‘perfect’…well…no – and yes, mostly, sort of… It’s a matter of perspective and sufficiency, and making a point of treating me well, myself.

Enough.

Enough.

It’s been a lovely weekend. Simple enough, and I am content with it. Perhaps it’s simply that I slept well and deeply, two nights in a row, or maybe it is that I feel comfortable and certain of my current trajectory in life, at least for the moment, and enjoy the feeling without complications because it is truly my own? Does it matter why contentment is, when it is? Is it enough to enjoy the moment, to be, in fact, content? At least for now, it seems that it is.

I have been attentive to my self-care. I have been attentive to myself. I have been awake, aware, and able to observe the world, and my own interactions from a place of compassionate non-judgment most of the weekend. Most of my choices have been sound. Most of my interactions with others have been harmonious, and enjoyable – pleasant, moment to moment, most of the time. The handful of challenging moments didn’t seem particularly noteworthy, or confrontational, and generally they were not at all about me – and that was something I understood at the time. As I said, it’s been quite a lovely weekend. Even my pain didn’t seem worth slowing down for; it was merely a nuisance.

Incremental change over time? Well, perhaps – or maybe just a good weekend. Is sorting out that distinction worth taking the time away from savoring what a lovely weekend it has been? I think not; this is a moment for being. For loving. For lingering in this joyful contented place… That’s enough.