Archives for posts with tag: practicing the practices

Thinking about a question of perspective, of sorts. I occasionally have experiences where it is clear that the understanding of me held by the person I am interacting with is very much not at all consistent with how I understand myself. I often wonder how that comes to be, and whether it is their misunderstanding (of me) causing the mischief or my own potential lack of awareness of how I present myself: how my behavior is received, and how the words I say are understood. Are they “speaking with a golem” of the woman I actually am that stands somehow between us? Is it me? Am I so thoroughly lacking in understanding of my words and actions in a practical way? Is it both? Neither?

…Am I the woman I understand myself to be, and if so, is that true only when I am alone, or also when I am interacting with others? If I am not she… who the hell am I? A construct of the expectations and assumptions of others? That doesn’t seem quite right to me, so I keep thinking about it…

I think about it during the commute to the office. I think about it over my morning coffee. I think about it while I bite my nails. I think about it as I walk down the hall to a meeting. I think about it in the break room. I think about it at my desk while I work.

I think about this question now and then – and today is definitely one of those times. I think about it without gaining wisdom or coming to some sort of reliable conclusion. I think about it…

…Then I put it aside and begin again.

I’m drinking water and counting myself grateful to have indoor plumbing, hot and cold running potable water from a tap in the house, and additional filtration that ensures the water is clean, and free of weird tastes or sediment. It’s nice. I’m drinking water because I’ve already had my coffee and frankly I do need to be drinking more water. Recent longevity-associated articles reporting on the value of being well-hydrated did not go unnoticed. I started paying attention to the differences on days when I am not well-hydrated vs days when I am – and nights. Yes, drinking more water definitely results in getting up to pee more often during the night, but that doesn’t seem to have anything at all to do with whether I sleep well and deeply, or how easily I return to sleep, so… small price to pay? Well, I guess I hadn’t previously thought so, until I noticed that being well-hydrated seemed to also reduce my snoring (noticeably), as well as improving my ability to lubricate naturally (still a pretty big deal for me, personally, in spite of being post-menopause I really enjoy sex), like, a lot. So I’m pretty committed to drinking more water.

Keep practicing.

…I learned quite recently, and yes “the hard way”, that one bad spell with my mental health can wreck that progress in mere hours. Friday evening I went through some shit and had a nasty flare up of my PTSD on this whole other difficult to describe level. It was bad. I put my Traveling Partner through some bullshit over it (always regrettable and complicated). It got bad enough that I actually had a flashback, and those have gotten to be very rare. The ridiculous level of hysteria I ultimately reached (calling it a “panic attack” doesn’t do the chaos justice at all) caused me to cry a quantity of tears that finally resulted in a loss of moisture that definitely resulted in me more than a little dehydrated by dawn. I woke Saturday morning with a stuffy head, swollen eyes, and feeling like “everything had come crashing down”. It passed, but… it wasn’t good. The low point was the painful awareness that even medicated, I am at risk. I am grateful to have the partner I do. The chaos and damage don’t reliably “take no for an answer” once shit skitters sideways. The self-directed shame and disappointment immediately add an additional gut-punch that makes bouncing back hard. On top of all of that? Damn few people actually “get” what flashbacks are actually like, and they aren’t portrayed in the movies or in media very skillfully (how could they be?).

It’s important to take care of myself. Regardless of the chaos and damage, regardless of my personal starting point on life’s journey, or where I am standing when I begin again. Problematically, this is true for everyone; self-care matters. I don’t “get a head-start” when I practice good self-care – I don’t even get to start at the same starting point as “everyone else”. I’ve started this journey where my starting point happened to be. Self-care is a thing that it is very helpful to do – for everyone. I’m still me. Still have the issues I have. Still have to work on those issues. Still have to trust that incremental change over time will improve things. Still have to recognize that my results are going to vary. My demons got the better of me on Friday night in a big way. I’m fortunate to have a loving partner willing to support my long-term wellness and growth. I’m grateful that I can understand that there is no implicit promise that having a loving partner will actually make this shit any “easier”. I’ve still got to walk my own hard mile. I’ve still got to do the work. I’m still going to fall down now and then, and have to pick myself up and start over. Begin again.

Some practices are more critical than others. Some practices are more emotionally nourishing than others. Some are more or less effective for me as an individual. I did not imagine the simple act of drinking enough water would be one of those very simple very big deals among all my practices, but here we are.

Selecting good practices is a bit like building a healthy diet… fruit is delicious. Sooo tasty. Filled with nutrients we need. Yum. The thing is, though, it’s also full of sugar. Like a lot of sugar. For many of us, building our diet around tasty fruits is not notably healthier than building it around any other tasty sweets. [Note: I am not a nutritionist or dietician, nothing I say in this blog should be construed as medical or dietary advice. I am using “diet” and nutrition metaphorically here.] Veggies may not be as sweetly delicious and tempting in the way luscious ripe fruits can be, but they do make a far better foundation for my diet. So… it matters to choose with care. Whether we’re talking about a healthy diet, the practices we choose for our emotional wellness, the partnership in which we spend our days (and nights)… or the practices we choose for our physical wellness. Turns out some of the most basic practices for my self-care support both my emotional wellness and my physical wellness (looking your way drinking water and eating more veggies!!). It’s worth thinking about for more than a moment. Abandon any one of those cornerstones of a good life, and the foundation isn’t solid enough to rest upon.

Get right down to it, and there’s just no magic bullet, or pill, or single solution to “all of the shit we go through”. No partnership can bear the weight of all of our bullshit. We’ve got to do all the things we can – everything we know to do, as reliably as we’re able to learn to practice. Through practice. Sounds like a huge thing to commit to, but taken a practice at a time, doesn’t it just amount to living life? I think about it a while, let the songs play. Watch the tiny bar of sunlight creep across my desk.

My partner comes in and rubs my shoulders and neck for a moment. “You writin’ a book?” he asks with a laugh. I laugh back; there are no shortcuts.

It’s time to begin again.

It’s evening. Quiet. Chill. My Traveling Partner is working on a project in another room. I’m listening to tunes and relaxing. Nothing much going on. The stress of the morning seems long ago. Distant emotionally. I’m okay. I knew then that I would be although I couldn’t really “feel it” in any sort of immediate way. It took a while.

Listen, this is not that unusual; it can take time to get past a difficult emotional moment. More so if you’ve got that feeling paired to some trauma in your past, or if you’re an “emotional wreck” still trying to sort out who you really are, or if you’ve survived some types of head trauma, or if you’re sick… we don’t all bounce back fast. We don’t all bounce back easily. That’s just real. Cut yourself (and each other) some slack. We’re human. Each having our own experience. It’s gotta at least be emotionally safe to be your own best friend, to “be there” for yourself. It has to be okay to give yourself time to course-correct, and get past that moment and on to the next. It’ll pass. Let it.

…If it’s “not you”? I still say it’ll pass. I still plead with you to let it. Just that. Yield to the passage of time and let your own bullshit – and theirs – go. Let it go. Breathe. Exhale. Relax.

Still sucks to deal with though, right? I know. Get used to that shit. Welcome to humanity. Welcome to adulthood. This journey is the most “important” one of your life… and there’s no fucking map. lol. I’d maybe be careful about calling any one point a destination, too. Easiest to let the journey be the destination, and accept that “the way out is through” – more often than not. Pick a theme song, turn that sucker up loud, and enjoy the ride.

Maybe have a cup of tea, and give yourself a break? Then begin again. 🙂

I’m sipping my coffee and thinking about a question. “How do I actually change my perspective?” The colleague who asked the question wasn’t being flippant or obtuse, and the context was work we were doing together. Sincere question. I was stalled for a moment, because for me the answer is ludicrously practical; make a literal change in the angle of view, or distance from which something is observed, or… I think you get it? Something as simple as standing on a chair to see something a different way, or looking out a different window to capture a different view… right?

Looking out one window of the office, onto a city I’ve known for 42 years.

We continued the conversation as we walked to the break area for coffee. We looked out other windows, still talking about how to shift perspective, metaphorically and for real.

Maybe it’s only been 22 years? Depends on what years “count”, doesn’t it?

Different window, different views… same city. So, different perspectives on this one place. Handy to have a real-life demonstration available. Lovely morning for it. We get pretty easily locked into a point of view, or some very specific limited understanding of the world or our circumstances based on our perspective. Being able to shift our perspective and “see things another way” really matters for things like communicating with others, being compassionate, and effective problem-solving that presents an inclusive solution to a problem that affects many different groups. We’re not a homogenous mass of flesh all of one mind; we’re individuals.

There are so many ways to look at something.

I sip my coffee and consider my perspective – then and now. Even those differences can provide new perspective. I certainly don’t see the world quite the same way I did when I was a woman in my 20s, 30s, or 40s. Time passed. I experienced more of what the world had to offer, and learned and grew through my experiences and decision-making. It doesn’t take standing on a chair, or looking out a 10th floor window, to take advantage of this mortal lifetime to reflect on changes in perspective. It’s hard not to change one’s perspective. How much effort do people have to put into to clinging to a poor understanding of an event, or a mistaken assumption, or limited perspective to “stand still” and “never change”?

It may be as easy as a chair or looking out a different window, or asking a new question of the person in the mirror. Change is. Our perspective easily shifts with our changes – if we allow it, and take notice. The trickier bit, I guess, is constructively changing our perspective to give us a “better angle of view” on something we don’t necessarily experience or understand from our own circumstances.

I think on it for a while, sipping my coffee on a rainy chilly winter morning. Would my thoughts be different on a summer day?

My eye falls on my to-do list. I smile; I’ve worked the list down to just one or two inconsequential tasks, and an errand. Not bad. It won’t stay that way; I’m always adding to it and working it. It’s just a list of reminders to change something. My coffee is cold now, and I could use a manicure. It’s far too early in the morning to get a manicure; it goes onto the list. That’s how it works. LOL

…I could use another cup of coffee. It must be time to begin again.

This morning’s commute was certainly… something. I left early and beat almost all the traffic. Easy commute, eh? Well… no. Life is still handing out lessons. LOL

I pulled into the drive-through of the local branded coffee vendor before heading out of town. Oh. Shit. I left enough earlier that they aren’t even open yet (although it must have been pretty close … all their lights were on, including the menu board). Okay, no problem, I head on up the road figuring I’d stop at the next one.

…Also closed. No problem…? I guess I’ll try the next one… I mean, there are various coffee places every couple of miles on this route – how hard can it be to get a cup of coffee on the way to work? 😀 It’ll continue to get later as I drive, so… sooner or later, everyone will be open, right? Right…

…Also closed…

…Also closed…

Fucking hell. I feel myself start to get frustrated as I try one more time (with a promise to myself to just give up on this bullshit and pour a cup at work)…

Coffee. Mmmmm. Finally. So good.

…the fuck is up with this parking lot flow, though? … g’damn… am I lost now?? For fucks sake.

…It takes me a minute to get turned around the correct direction in their weird parking lot (which is shared with two fast food places with interlaced drive-throughs)…

Finally heading up the road to the office. Traffic still pleasantly light, and I make good time getting to the city. The city is dark and quiet and I quickly get to my usual parking location. “Lot Full”. Are you kidding me?? I can’t tell from the signage if this is really the situation…or if they just “aren’t open yet”… I look behind me figuring I’ll back out and park elsewhere… but now there’s truck behind me, and a car behind him… fuuuuuuuuck.

…Eventually, we get it sorted out. One of the vehicles behind me pulls to the side (he clearly plans to wait for… something?), and the other backs out. I back out too. The other guy pulls back in next to the ticket machine, and starts his wait. lol I circle the block and go to the next closest parking lot near the office. It’s unfamiliar to me and I feel a bit “thrown off” by my crap-tacular timing this morning. It is what it is. Knowing my limitations as I do, I snap a picture of the location of my parked car, and another outside the door to the elevator – these will help me find my car when I inevitably forget (at the end of a busy work day) where the hell I parked.

I’m a block further from the office than usual, as I walk down the sidewalk. I’m not stressed about that – it’s just a few extra steps – but the morning has been a weird one so far. Still is. There is not a single soul visible anywhere (which is a bit strange even at this early hour). The city is spooky quiet, hushed, muted, and I feel apprehensively as if there are invisible watchers behind every window.

It’s fine. I’m fine. Just a weird morning. My timing is so far off it seems to color my entire experience.

As I walk past the entrance of my usual parking lot I see the vehicle door is now open. (Omfg… for real? I was basically 5 minutes early, and just too impatient to wait?? Fucking hell… This day, though.) I laugh at myself and keep on walking. (No, I am not going back to the car to repark it; that version of me doesn’t really exist now. Mostly.)

I badge into the office… and the elevator drops me on the wrong floor. 0_o

I forgot my half-finished coffee in the car.

I grab a can of iced coffee (“nitro cold brew”) from the break room refrigerator, set up my workstation…

…and begin again.