Archives for posts with tag: practicing the practices

The last of twilight is gone. The house is quiet. The aquarium lights are off. There is stillness within, and stillness surrounding me. For many minutes I sat, also still, soaking in the awareness of the quiet, the serenity, the gentleness of the moment itself – neither extraordinary, nor memorable – before turning to words. Those sorts of still moments are so easily missed; it seems wise to savor them when I can, so I sat wrapped in the stillness, breathing, calm, content…really, just enjoying it. Awake. Aware. Compassionate and not judging; observing attentively, present and engaged. Words. Frustratingly, the words don’t do the feeling justice, at all. I am tempted to hit ‘save draft’ and crash for the night… I am not ready for sleep.

Evening light

Evening light

There are more things to consider than things that truly need to be said…or… said by me. Perhaps, tonight, fewer words, and a few more minutes to consider the words already said? More stillness. Some handful of moments smiling in the darkness, this gentle pleasant now a small gift from me, to me – the tiniest down payment on a substantial debt I owe to myself.

Spring flowers and ice.

Spring flowers and ice, a mixed message.

Not even 300 words…but I’ve been writing for more than an hour, pretty continuously. I get so far, then…delete back to the last thing that said…something. Words are failing me this evening. I’m okay with that…and that’s mostly what I am saying; I’m okay. For now. Generally speaking. I feel a feeling of safety built on my own strength, lately. I practice a lot of practices to be here for myself. (I’m not bitching – I’m just saying it’s not a magical transformation born of some ‘aha!’ moment; I’ve been working at this.) It’s been worth it. Start somewhere. Start small. Don’t quit. Enjoy the small changes; eventually the changes don’t seem so small, after all.

It's hard to photograph birdsong...

It’s hard to photograph birdsong…

Oh, hey…Seriously? There’s no magic to any of this. I still have bad days. I still make mistakes. I still struggle with challenges that may not improve much more and require good-natured self-acceptance, a sense of humor, and the will to just keep at it (because change is). I still cry when I’m frustrated. I still feel angry when I am mistreated. It’s all very human; that part just doesn’t change. I think, right now, in this quiet still and very peaceful moment, it’s easy to look past all the hard stuff. It does take practice. There are verbs involved. (Your results may vary.)

 

It’s a lovely morning so far. My coffee is hot, and not at all bitter. My clothes feel comfortable and fit well. I woke lacking the usual headache, and my arthritis pain is well-managed and not troubling me. The day begins gently, and the day before ended gently, with love. Seems pretty perfect…

…I’m very groggy.

Perfectly imperfect...enjoying the moment that is, unconcerned about what isn't.

Perfectly imperfect…enjoying the moment that is, unconcerned about what isn’t.

I sit here with my tasty coffee, contemplating this lovely morning; it is ‘perfect’ without being unflawed. Quite a nice morning…I am, however, seriously struggling to really wake up. It’s not a bother today, but I can feel echoes of other mornings, when the frustration of not fully waking up as quickly as usual eventually drove sufficient irritability to throw a pleasant morning off course. This is not that sort of morning; it is ‘perfectly imperfect’ and I am content.

A picture perfect spring day. Who defines perfection?

A picture perfect spring day. Who defines perfection?

The ‘search for happiness’ has often seriously confounded my ability to actually experience happiness. I’ve found myself feeling happy, even for prolonged periods, most often when I wasn’t looking for it, wasn’t chasing it, instead investing my time and will into being and doing on other levels that result rather commonly in the experience of happiness. Like trying to watch the horizon at night, it seems to be most effective when I’m doing something else entirely.

There’s not much more to say this morning… It’s a lovely morning to experience the morning that is, and savor each sweet moment as-is, no demands, no criteria, no negotiation, no picking it apart to make more or less of it… just this timeless precious now, enjoyed exactly as it is.

It’s enough.

This is a lovely gentle moment. Last evening was also very nice. In between these moments, ideally, would be several hours of sleep. I am content with the handful of hours of sleep I got, and a couple more of rest and meditation, and I woke to my alarm feeling comfortable. My arthritis is felt as a distant thing, this morning, managed and of no real consequence. My coffee is very welcome. My jeans, a size smaller than I’ve been wearing, feel comfortable, relaxed, and soft against my skin, like very old broken in favorite jeans – a very nice way for a new pair of jeans to feel. There is a lot to smile about, this morning (and even most mornings).

I will take today as it comes, practicing good practices, shoring up practices that I know work that I may not be fully committed to, practicing not practicing practices that don’t work as well…and treating others well.

One spring moment of many, with all the possibility and potential of any new moment.

One spring moment of many, with all the possibility and potential of any new moment.

This is a lovely moment. Many of them are, actually, even in the face of my own chaos and damage; so often it is embracing the fundamental loveliness of some ‘now’ moment or another that calms my storms, and helps me ‘find my way home’ to a gentler heart. A few deep breaths, a moment or two of real stillness, the solitude to find calm; these are so essential to maintaining balance and building resilience. Learning to allow myself to meet those needs has been challenging, and totally worth the time and effort to learn, and to practice.

However loving the lover, however caring the caregiver, however tender the heart of someone who wants to support me, first and perhaps of greatest importance has been learning to love and care for myself, my own heart, my own life – and not because there’s no one else out there, or because others cannot be relied upon, or because the world is in any way ‘unworthy’ – but because it is my own ability, and will, to care for myself well that shows everyone else ways to love and care for me, too. Besides, who else would be a better fit as ‘lifelong super best friend’ for me than me?

Does it seem odd to bother with writing such a simple post, on such a slim bit of an idea? I find that some of life’s best bits are painted across my experience with a very delicate brush – it’s not all drama, big deals, or epiphanies. Some of the stuff that has mattered most to me is pretty simple, basic, every day living. I’m okay with that; simple is easier to practice. 🙂

Today feels full of possibilities. Today is a good day to embrace the moment with wonder and enthusiasm. Today is a good day to connect, and to say ‘please’ and ‘thank you’. Today is a good day to change the world.

The evening ends quietly, after a pleasantly productive day that felt more recreational than not. I spent much of it gardening…well…on such tasks as gardening offers at the tail end of winter, preparing for planting to come. Things will turn to spring seemingly overnight; I take advantage of pleasantly sunny or dry days getting ready for it. I share my love of gardening and growing things with my traveling partner, and we pass a lot of time talking about plants, gardening, techniques, yield… It’s strangely intimate, which I attribute to the undercurrent of love that is so palpable when we are together.

I’m not ready for sleep, but I am no longer feeling like companionship. These last few minutes of evening are my own; I sift through the events, interactions, and thoughts of the day, and consider them more thoroughly. I take time to savor the most pleasant moments. I make a disciplined practice of pausing ever so briefly on moments that troubled me, taking only such time as needed to observe, non-judgmentally, and moving on to other moments. It doesn’t feel natural to linger so willfully on all the things that felt the best, and delighted me most, nonetheless, it is a practice that tends to create a more positive experience overall, day-to-day, and finding and maintaining balance seems easier, generally. It most certainly counts as treating myself well.

Today wasn’t fancy, and that doesn’t matter at all; today was enough.

Some of the very best moments are the simplest of pleasures. Few things are more wonderful than love and coffee shared on a relaxed morning.

Some of the very best moments are the simplest of pleasures. Few things are more wonderful than love and coffee shared on a relaxed morning.

This morning I woke with anxiety riding shotgun. I woke early, and abruptly, feeling unable to take a breath. In the face of imminent panic, I managed to grab hold of the nearest practice – in this case, simply breathing – and focused on that, instead of the anxiety.

“Anxiety” 10″ x 14″ acrylic on canvas w/ceramic 2011

“Anxiety” 10″ x 14″ acrylic on canvas w/ceramic 2011

With the first deep breath, in and then slowly out, I observed the quiet environment, and the lack of immediate threats to my safety or wellness.

With the second, I observed my own body and state of being, finding and gently letting go of tension, then self-soothing by improving my posture, and comforting myself with reminders to be present, now, and letting the safety and comfort of the moment soak into my awareness more fully.

With the third breath I acknowledged Anxiety traveling with me this morning, and instead of panic, I gave myself a mental pat on the back for dealing with her – and my PTSD – so well these past couple days.  I took a moment to refresh my understanding that my TBI sometimes prevents my chemistry from appropriately returning to baseline because the inhibition/disinhibition circuitry – and other executive functions – are impaired; this too will pass, but it may take longer than I’d like, and I’ll probably have to help it along.

By the time I complete 5 deep cleansing breaths, my heart stopped pounding, and the surreal terror eased. Was it something in my dreams that woke me so badly? It hardly matters. I am okay, and a new day is beginning. I anticipate the anxiety may come and go today, as it eases over hours without new stimuli. I smile realizing that it feels almost natural… almost easy… to take care of me in the face of my anxiety. It is quite deliberate, very structured, almost ritualistic, extremely practiced, and in no way ‘natural’ or ‘easy’ – but it is lovely that it feels that it easy, and that’s more than enough to bring a smile to my face, this morning as I sit with my coffee, quite alone, and recognizing anxiety as merely an emotion, rather than envisioning it as some powerful super-being capable of destroying worlds.

The tools and practices I have invested so much time and study in really do make a difference. Using SuperBetter regularly helps me stay focused on practicing good self-care practices, and reminds me of all the variety there is in self-care tools and skills, and in creative ways to break problem patterns of thinking and behavior. Directing entertainment consumption towards the educational (TED Talks, SciShow…) has proven helpful, too; the brain is a sort of ‘use it or lose it’ tool, itself, and the sharpest elders I know are people who continue learning well into their elder years as a lifelong passion.

…And then there’s love.  I don’t want to overlook or underestimate the value of supportive relationships, emotional nurturing by loved ones, the comfort in someone listening, or the emotional safety in being accepted and loved – exactly as I am.  Being loved is a bit like buried pirate treasure, though; even though I suspected it might be ‘out there’, and even with a map that had a spot marked ‘X’ to point the way, it took some searching and some persistence, mostly because I did not understand that the love I most yearned for above all others needed to come from me, and until I found my way to that safe haven, no searching would ever turn up the pirate treasure of romantic love in the arms of another (because, even if someone loved me that much, in that way, I would struggle to recognize and feel it, having no similar feeling about myself).

It’s a lovely morning, and a good day to tell anxiety to take a hike – I will choose, instead, to walk with love, deliberately and willfully. Today is a good day to practice good practices, and to take care of me. Today is a good day to enjoy what works, and improve on what doesn’t work so well. Today is a good day to change the way I deal with my world.