Archives for posts with tag: perspective

It’s a quiet day of solitary practice. I have spent it on meditation, and study, mostly. I started the morning with yoga, and later interrupted it with a walk in the sunshine before the heat of the afternoon sets in. It has been supremely chill and I feel calm and balanced. I generally write quite early in the morning, as I sit down with my first – now, only – coffee of the day.  Today is different. It is a different day, so I guess there’s at least that explanation for it. 🙂

Every day an entirely new experience, a fresh start, a new opportunity to wonder, and to grow.

Every day an entirely new experience, a fresh start, a new opportunity to wonder, and to grow.

This morning I am building my joy on mindfulness, perspective, and sufficiency with compassionate acceptance that others are free to do what they will; their choices and their experiences are not mine. It is, so far, quite a lovely day.

Some of it is about choices...

Some of it is about choices…

Some of it is about perspective.

Some of it is about perspective.

What will I do with the remainder of the day? Well, hopefully more of whatever is delivering on this delightful experience of the moment. I doubt it is as simple as the tasks I am starting and finishing; the yoga, the meditation, the walking in the sun, the two loads of laundry, and the careful study and cross-referencing of more relevant material are not actually why I am enjoying such a lovely day. They are simply what I am doing, from moment to moment, as the day progresses. My limited understanding of things, as it exists now, suggests that it is the choices to do these things for me, in the way I am deciding to do so, and with what specific intent, and level of presence and engagement that is the why of my lovely day. As with most practices, I will have to do it some more to be certain, and to find it a reliably repeatable experience. I’m content with putting in the effort. What could be more worthwhile than learning to treat myself well, and enjoy my experience, unless it may be the later ability to extend that courtesy and general good treatment to others, because it is simply my day-to-day experience, and the way I behave ‘as a practice’?

I don’t have that much to say today. The day is mine, and I will return to it.

Today is a good day to be still for a moment.

Today is a good day to be still for a moment.

Today is a good day to practice what works. Today is a good day to deliver on the promises I have made to myself. Today is a good day to cherish the moment, and pause to be grateful for all such moments as these. Today is a good day for right now. Today is a good day for love, and emotional self-sufficiency. Today is a good day to change the world.

Yesterday was blazing hot (for where I live) and the heat of summer blasted the face of the streets and buildings with ferocious and unrelenting boldness. It got to a high of 97 degrees (F) or so.  I still did my midday walk, although I made doubly sure I was well hydrated. I still walked the pieces of my commute that required travel in the hotter part of the day. Why not? I used to live in Fresno. Yesterday it was something like 105 degrees (F) in Fresno. lol. I will happily take on the 97 versus the 105.

Hello, Sunshine!

Hello, Sunshine!

Perspective matters.

The evening felt very short. There wasn’t much shared time to connect over the day’s details. I started, but didn’t finish, a favorite movie; I had trouble being really engaged. I feel pre-occupied. I feel… discontent. It could be hormones. It could be the state of the world. There are a lot of details of life that can result in a feeling of discontent.  It’s a very human experience.

As it turns out, I require very little to feel contented. A state of calm and contentment is pretty natural for me, given a calm environment and pleasant circumstances. Life isn’t always so orderly. Desires and expectations can definitely undermine a feeling of contentment.  Things simply ‘going wrong’.  Frustration, although it is an emotion all its own, can sure share the stage with discontent, in my own experience; I rarely feel contented when I am also frustrated.  Feeling unheard can result in a profound feeling of discontent. Actually… discontent seems a rather gentle warning siren in my emotional life that something is amiss. When I listen, and attend to the feelings, and take care of me it is sometimes a simple matter to get my experience back to some pleasantly contented state of being.  Ignoring discontent is like a promise to seriously derail my emotional balance at some later time.

I am putting a lot of study and practice into being more emotionally intelligent.  It matters, quite possible more so than intellect, education, or so many other cognitive characteristics. Our emotional intelligence is what we bring along for the fun when we interact with other people.  For much of my adulthood I have been severely deficient in the area of emotional intelligence…and I learned late that a quick wit, a decent education, professional drive, competence…none of that means shit if I am also callous, mean, terse, and insensitive; people will not want to connect with me, or be able to do so easily, and the experience of rejection is unpleasant, to say the least.  I didn’t figure it all out at once – not sure I’ve ‘figured it out’ anyway. I didn’t approach the issue wanting to improve my emotional intelligence. When I headed down this path, I didn’t even know ’emotional intelligence’ is a thing. Still working on it, still studying, and still asking more questions than I am seeking out ‘answers’.

This morning I am making room for feelings of discontent. It’s a very personal experience, not directed outward; a conversation of sorts, with myself.  When meditating on gratitude and loving kindness don’t ease a developing feeling of discontent, these days, I embrace the feeling as simply being part of my experience of the moment, make room in my heart to be compassionate toward myself… and start asking questions. I don’t set the bar high on answers. I have found answers are often not really necessary as much as awareness and tender acceptance of my needs and desires. I am learning to treat myself well, and truly honor my own experience. It’s pretty wow sometimes, particularly in moments of discontent.

I still feel discontented. It could be as simple as the house filling with disorderly looking stacks of boxes; a variety of household projects ongoing require rooms to be emptied, the contents boxed up for safety.  A partner’s recent shipment of household items passed on from a deceased family member add to the clutter. My hiking gear, art supplies, books… I have too much stuff, or too little space. Discontent, for me, often feels like I’ve lost my sense of ‘sufficiency’ or order, on some point or another.  I find myself wondering about the value of scaling down from a king size bed to a twin; panic sets in with a vicious attack by my brain – challenging the status quo with novel thinking, or challenging some point on which I have become complacent, can be really hard on me, but it’s also very good for me in terms of flexible thinking and being adaptable. I give myself a mental wink and a smile, “Look at you go, Brain! Very creative!” I manage not to become invested in the suspiciously convenient narrative offered.

Flowers; not just pretty, also a favorite metaphor for blossoming in our own time.

Flowers; not just pretty, also a favorite metaphor for blossoming in our own time.

More meditation. Yoga. Another espresso. A few minutes in the garden at dawn. Discontent can sneak attack with little provocation; I find it important to be wary, watchful, and compassionate with myself. It’s a very human thing to become caught up in emotions. Dealing with emotions is not my area of greatest strength. I keep studying. Practicing meditation. Making more room to feel my feelings, accept my experience, and show myself some consideration. (The Big 5 again: Consideration)

I still feel discontented. At some point, I will accept some opportunity to make a change that may change my emotional experience for the better. Choices matter. Perspective, too, matters. Today is a therapy day. Maybe there is hidden wisdom to be revealed? Maybe not. Maybe just more practice, but it helps to talk through the challenges.

Blue skies on a summer day, even in the face of the emotion of the moment.

Blue skies on a summer day, even in the face of the emotion of the moment.

Today is a good day to practice. Today is a good day to show myself compassion. Today is a good day to acknowledge what works, what feels good, and what satisfies. Today is a good day to say ‘thank you’. Today is a good day to change the world.

I woke early this morning. It was very late before I fell asleep. A short night; there are potential consequences later in the day, when I start to feel fatigued. These days that is nothing more than something to be mindful of, to account for with kindness and compassion – and patience with myself.  At this early hour, that’s all theory for later. For now, I am quietly enjoying the too-brief tranquility of mornings and studying. This morning I am studying concepts of attachment and ‘clinging’ that undermine growth, development, ‘becoming’, and emotional resilience.

Sure, why not?

Sure, why not?

I spent a few moments, recently, grieving the loss of a particular experience I wholly enjoy. Like so many things, it could be that its time has simply passed; change is.  I experienced the sadness of that, the loss, and generally such moments feel destructive, joyless, and despairing to me. Yesterday I deviated from my norm, some glitch in my programming turned up and… I understood concepts related to attachment that I have been struggling with for some time now.  Change is. Growth happens through change – whether we embrace it or not – but the nature and extent of our growth may be affected by whether we embrace change or struggle with it.

Change is part of life.

Change is part of life.

I’m not saying I like the concept. I’m just saying yesterday I woke up to an important idea, and accepted it; when I can let go of attachment to specific experiences, possessions, or qualities of character I have chosen as ‘my identity’, I can achieve something new, try something, experience more, and move forward on life’s trajectory.  Even the most perfect of lovely mornings, repeated endlessly, could grow stale.  So, okay, I can find contentment in change…loss still hurts. Saying good-bye can still feel sad. Grief and grieving are still honest and heartfelt emotional experiences that are likely for most of us, at some point in life. Nothing unique there… but I grieve a broken porcelain demi-tasse cup with the emotional depth and intensity that some save for losses of life, and it occurs to me that may not be the best way to take care of my heart, or treat myself well.

I see this same scenario play out in other lives, too; at work, having to change schedules unexpectedly, it isn’t unusual for a coworker facing such a change to take it all very personally, to cling to what they know, and to fight change with a ferocity one might find reasonable on a battlefield…and then to see that same coworker happily embracing new opportunities opened by that change in schedule, once they experience it. Change is scariest when I cling tightly to what I have right now, to avoid facing change, itself.  It mattered yesterday because I was contemplating a change in household hours/schedules that can’t help but throw my own routine out of whack, and that sort of thing sometimes takes me weeks to adjust to.  I realized I was not helping myself by holding on to my attachment to what had been.  I still feel sad that I may be letting a delightful emotional butterfly flutter away…but I am also grateful to have enjoyed it so much, for so long.

My garden in summer, a surprisingly fragile 'now'.

My garden in summer, a surprisingly fragile ‘now’.

There are so many experiences I have enjoyed that just aren’t part of my experience now. Every one of them remains part of my experience over time, and my history. Each has value as a treasured memory. Each exists as a sort of random card in an infinite deck of things I enjoy that could reoccur. Many of them won’t. Holding on to them, refusing change, prevents me from embracing new experiences to add to that infinite deck.  Sounds so easy, so obvious…but…

I really like sipping ice-cold root beer and sitting near the fan on the screen porch at Grandmother’s house, eavesdropping on adult conversations on a humid summer afternoon.

I really like playing monopoly or cribbage by the tent stove, with my motor pool colleagues, waiting for my guard duty shift.

I really like running bare footed down the trails in the woods, where I was not supposed to be playing and could generally be found (with some effort) any childhood summer morning.

I really like lazy Sundays with generous brunches, sleeping in, a lot of sex, a great playlist, and a bit of gardening.

I really like late night strolls through park-like old residential neighborhoods on balmy summer nights.

I really like spending the day out on the water on my grandparent’s sail boat.

I really like being out at the range, honing my skills, and competing with myself and feeling like a bad ass.

I really like keeping a few chickens.

I really like slipping away to a nearby swimming hole on a Friday when I could be working, but the broad blue skies of Oklahoma suggest otherwise.

I really like hanging out with a lover, sharing anecdotes about who we each are, growing closer, and laughing together over coffee or lovemaking.

I really like new love and romance.

I really like being between jobs and taking months off for me.

I really like summer vacation.

…And I miss these things. There are a lot of experiences, moments, and relationships that I enjoy right now that I won’t have in some tomorrow down the road. Just like that list of experiences I am not having in my now.  Some of them I may experience again. Some of them I may never experience again.  Hell, some of them I don’t want to experience if to do so I have to return to the life or context in which I had them before. That’s something to consider, there.

So. Sure. It makes sense to let go. To accept change. To adapt. What comes next? Something new.

Clinging to what has been can prevent me seeing something new.

Clinging to what has been can prevent me seeing something new.

Today is a good day to embrace change.

Or, for that matter, what it isn’t.  These are subjects for another day – soon.

Today I am focusing on openness and intimacy, fearlessly approaching and being approachable. Eye contact. Observation. Being in the moment, because the moment is what I have. Making room to feel, to be involved in my own experience. Breathing, and finding that still calm place.  Taking practices of mindful self-acceptance, compassion, and gratitude, and applying them to my relationships with others.

Today I find balance, because I choose balance, and compassion because I choose compassion. Today I will change the world.

Every moment holds all the potential that exists to choose well.

Every moment holds all the potential that exists to choose well.

Today was… weird. I don’t remember now what sort of mood I was in, first thing. I think it was good.

My mood was fragile when I connected with my partner and we stopped for lunch together. I am making a lot of progress, and pursuing therapy this time is actually getting me somewhere – but I’m investing my will in this, it isn’t easy. I’m often more than usually emotional after my appointment, and feel raw and over-exposed. I appreciate it when I can get a couple really quiet hours to myself afterward, to get my bearings, and take a few deep breaths.  Sort things out, and develop a deeper understanding.

Today did not go that way.

The evening is winding down, now. In general, the day had a lot of value to it, and a lot to enjoy. I’m hoping that tomorrow morning those are the things most prominent in my memory, while the moments of discontent, and distress dissipate into the fog of what is forgotten.

I didn’t spend much time viewing the world through a lens. Today I used my eyes. Still – a couple pictures, and I’ve been looking at them and wanting them to say something more than they do. I do like a good metaphor. I’m not so sharp this evening. So…perhaps you see something I don’t see.

A single flower in autumn.

A single flower in autumn.

A shrub in bloom.

A shrub in bloom.

...Yeah...I don't know...I should have read the title.

…Yeah…I don’t know…I should have read the title.