Archives for posts with tag: practicing the practices

Another morning, another opportunity to begin again,Β to be the person I most want to be, to practice the skills that are most likely to result in good quality of life and healthy relationships… another chance to “get things right “. My Traveling Partner is right, I can be pretty hard on myself. I do tend to conflate “behavior” and “self”. When I fall short of my own expectations of my “performance” in life, my self-talk can become quite negative and more than a little punishing (definitely unkind). Those qualities don’t make “measuring up” easier. I could do better…

…I need more practice…

…another morning for gratitude…

It’s cloudy this morning and my back aches with the likelihood of rain today. My head aches ferociously. My sinuses are a bit stuffy. My tinnitus is so loud in ears I don’t hear the traffic on the nearby highway without really listening to hear it, buried in the static and whine of the buzzing in my ears. The morning seems annoyingly noisy… but it’s all in my head.

I reflect on the past couple days. I find myself admitting I could for sure be more kind and patient with my partner recovering from surgery. I have been too easily frustrated or annoyed by his 100% understandable frustration and annoyance with being both injured and also recovering from a procedure that now has him further limited by pain and the need to rest and heal when he so earnestly wants to move around and get shit done. We’re very different people. I keep finding myself rather stupidly expecting him to deal with things as I might deal with them myself, and it’s not at all reasonable (see “We’re very different people.” lol) It’s not just stupid, it’s also rude. I remind myself to let go of assumptions and expectations, and just be kind, considerate, and available to help when asked. I can count on him to let me know when he needs help.

But… It is a new day. It’s not really a “do over”. There are no “mulligans” in real life (not really), just new opportunities to begin again and do better – new chances to practice being the person we most want to be. It doesn’t eliminate any consequences of prior actions or words, though, and doesn’t resolve hurt feelings or make amends for damage done. All that? Totally separate. More verbs. Different practices. IΒ  sigh quietly. Adulting is hard sometimes.

My Traveling Partner and I are fortunate; we trust the love we share, and it has proven itself many times. Feelings are feelings. We have our share of difficult moments, but the love is there and it endures beyond any petty bullshit or harsh words. We’re both human primates with noteworthy trauma histories and our share of individual baggage as a result, but fucking hell do we ever also love each other madly. I smile thinking about the enduring love we share. I watch the clouds shifting and drifting. The sun breaks through the cloud cover like a message of hope and encouragement.

It’s a pleasant morning for thinking about life and love, and how best to practice being the woman I most want to be. I sit with my thoughts awhile.

It’s also a nice morning to walk along the edge of the marsh. I breathe the Spring air deeply, smelling the scents of flowers. I reach down to lace up my boots, and prepare to begin again.

Great beginnings don’t always lead to great journeys. Today is hard. I’m struggling with my own bullshit, and juggling work and caring for my partner with that. It’s a mess. I’m in pain. I’m cross. I’m feeling “crowded” and vexed and inconvenienced by having to be a fucking adult at all – and I don’t feel like I’m very good at it in the first place.

…Breathe…

I know not to take this shit personally; it’s just “emotional weather”. For most values of “okay”, I’m okay – and for all the most important ones this is true. I’ve got a good job. A roof over my head. A nice little home that feels safe and secure. Potable drinking water. Electricity. Internet connectivity. A well-stocked pantry. A partner who loves me (even when he’s out of sorts, in pain, and struggling, himself). It’s still a beautiful Spring day. The only thing in the way of me enjoying this moment as any other lovely moment? Me. My lack of resilience. My pain. My “issues”.

…I can choose differently…

I made a nice cup of tea. Made sure the bills were paid. I’ve got a manageable list of a couple things to get done this weekend. Really all that I need to do with greater skill is to take more shit less personally, care for myself and my Traveling Partner… and begin again. Again.

…My confidence and sense of self reliably take a hit when I’m having a rough moment, and this is certainly that. A well-practiced practice doesn’t reliably result in needing less practice – or shit getting any easier. Sometimes it’s just fucking hard dealing with everything. For now? One moment, one step, one task, one meeting, at a time… eventually the clock runs out on the day (and maybe also on this shitty mood I find myself in, feeling wholly misunderstood, and fairly “invisible”… which sucks).

…Breathe. Exhale. Relax. Begin again. And again. And again…

…Nice cup of tea. It’s at least a place to start….

I’m feeling aggravated. I’m awash in it. I’m maybe even… angry. Frustrated, certainly. Dealing with it? Meh. Mostly. The effort involved in maintaining appropriate emotional regulation at the “work day level” is… hard sometimes. Super hard. I resist the change in mood, in tone, in facial expression – but I feel those, and they’re real. I keep pulling my focus back to work; it’s what this portion of the day is for.

…Breathe… Exhale… Relax… Let it go… Begin again…

I just keep at it, but it sure isn’t “easy”. My patience is being thoroughly tested. My resilience challenged. Hard is… hard. This is that. Hard.

…We become what we practice…

I don’t practice calm to impress anyone. I practice calm to cultivate calm, and to build resilience, and just to be the woman I most want to be – she’s calm. Reliably so.

I breathe, and practice gratitude. I exhale, and practice empathy, kindness, consideration, understanding… Eventually, I’ll also relax. I keep at it. It takes practice.

“Emotion and Reason” 18″ x 24″ acrylic w/ceramic and glow details, 2012

Does it matter what I’m irked over? Nope. Not even a little bit. Does it matter who or what has provoked me? Barely at all – it’s the outcome that matters. The actions. The behavior. Dealing with the moment. The practices don’t change that much. The need doesn’t change that much. I feel some comfort knowing that continued practice reliably results in real change; we become what we practice. The journey is the destination – and in that sense, the practices themselves, and “doing the thing”, are what matter most. There are no shortcuts to being the person we each most want to be. There are practices involved. Verbs. Self-reflection. Awareness. There’s also acknowledging failures, and making amends. There is beginning again.

My irritation (and my anger) are real. Feelings are not our enemy. It’s still most critical to behave in the way that is most appropriate. Most… “right”. (Which is ridiculously subjective, since we’re each having our own experience. No easy answers.) I breathe, exhale, and relax. Cheating myself of self-awareness with regard to my emotions doesn’t get me anywhere good. It’s just not helpful. Neither is lashing out at someone else. Just, like… ever. It’s just not worthwhile. Sure, it’s possible to come back from it, to sort it out and make it right, but… the damage is done. The damage lingers. The scars remain. We pick up baggage over a lifetime – setting it down and moving on can be hard.

…We become what we practice…

I sigh quietly. I set work aside for the moment, because I’m just too g’damned angry to focus or do good work. I breathe. Exhale. Relax. Take a few minutes to jot down some words, and “get things off my chest” (but without “venting” some ridiculous quantity of anger into shared space, potentially wrecking someone else’s experience; the science is in, “venting” doesn’t reduce anger). A few moments. A few words. I make room for self-care – because, frankly, as an adult, who else is actually going to care for me? Sometimes the only person available is going to be me. I’m always “here”. I can at least do myself the favor of being my own best friend, and “being here” in a real way for myself in some challenging moment.

What are you practicing? Does it keep you on the path of being the person you most want to be? Do you respect your choices and the way you treat people? It’s worth considering what you practice – particularly with regard to anger. Feelings are feelings – what you do to express them matters. Once they’re “out in the world”, they affect other people every bit as much as they affect you.

…I remind myself that having the perspective that a given bit of behavior is “understandable” or “excusable under the circumstances” or mitigated by some set of conditions or circumstances doesn’t make it desirable, or what I want or expect of myself. I give some thought to what I expect from myself – and what I want from myself – and then I begin again. It’s a journey. Change takes practice.

…Breathe…Exhale…Relax…

Practice.

I’m taking some time at the end of an endless seeming day (it’s this headache is all, it’s very tedious) to tinker a bit with the new OS on my desktop PC. I’m tickled by its speed – pretty snappy – and how intuitive (generally) it is to use. Win. I’m spending a few minutes getting “moved in” and figuring out some essentials (like importing passwords and bookmarks, setting up a new browser, and various sorts of housekeeping details to make this space feel more like… “home”). I’m no expert. I’m just mucking about with things that are low risk/high reward… pairing my elegant Bluetooth keyboard, restoring bookmarks for sites I visit often, and hey – even writing a short blog post to “get the feel” of this new “place” where I may be spending quite a bit of time…

I learn a few things about my new OS as I noodle around. Hell, I learn some things about other apps I use – and a few I’d rather not be using at all (looking your way, MS Office, and Google Photos). I find myself “falling in love” all over again with a couple apps that suddenly work so much better on this OS than on a Windows OS (don’t bother me with Apple notions, I’m not into it). It’s a fun adventure – and surprisingly low stress. I don’t know whether to attribute that to my Traveling Partners expertise and willingness to help any time – or personal growth of some sort, but here I am – having a good time, getting some things done. Neat.

I find myself working on exporting photos that currently live on Google Photos… the time has come to move away from that monstrosity in favor of something more secure and more private. πŸ˜€

…My Traveling Partner calls to me from the other room, seeking some assistance (out of reach tools that I’m happy to bring to him). Somehow it turns into me getting yelled at, after I ask a clarifying question. Between my headache making me potentially kind of dumb (though still eager to meet the need), and his condition recovering from a procedure making him potentially more easily frustrated (although appreciative of my help), tempers flare. I walk away, returning to the quiet of my studio, and this purposeful activity that is somehow much less fun, now. I try not to linger in this shitty moment – it’s hard.

I breathe, exhale, and relax. It’s probably time to make some dinner and begin again.

I’m taking a few minutes, having a mid-morning, post-waffles, cup of tea (Smith’s No.120 Jasmine Nectar, which has a lovely delicate fragrance). The tea is quite good. The moment is… meh. It’s okay. Not great. Not terrible. Just a moment, and it’ll pass and I’ll move on to the next one. I’m in a ferocious amount of pain this morning, which colors every experience in spite of knowing how pointless and unhelpful it is for that to be a thing. I keep having to make a point of not allowing it to seep into every crevice of my awareness and experience. My results vary.

…The waffles were good, though…

I don’t feel inclined to finger-point, lay blame, or even “troubleshoot” this moment (or any previous, this morning), it’s not even about that. We’re each having our own experience. I’m pretty sure my Traveling Partner is in every bit as much pain as I am in, maybe more. That likely colors his experience, too. Probably best to simply acknowledge our individual and mutual discomfort and not take any of that at all personally. I sigh. Breathe. Exhale. Relax. (Fuck I wish I weren’t in so much pain, though… but at least the waffles were good…)

I think about the dishes that need doing. The laundry. Tidying up my office space in preparation for working from this location, generally. It didn’t sound like much to tackle when I woke up this morning. It seems almost too much, now. Nothing has changed but the amount of pain I’m in, and my perspective on the day (that is probably a lot to do with the pain I’m in). I’m glad it’s a long weekend… tomorrow may be better, but regardless, it’s at least another day to work on these “getting back to the day-to-day” sorts of details. I’ll be ready by the time the work week begins. I sure feel tired now.

I think about the wildflowers out on the coast and the ones on along the trail this morning. It’s interesting what a different assortment they are. I look for pictures, and only just now realize I didn’t take any this morning. I sort of just rather purposefully walked down the trail to “there”, and then back. It wasn’t a grim trudge, but it wasn’t notably joyful. I was just… existing. Doing a thing. I was already in pain.

I hear my Traveling Partner laughing in the other room. That brings a smile to my face, even though he’s been a bit cross this morning. He enjoyed the waffles, though – those were good, this morning. It was lovely to share that experience with him. Good waffles. πŸ˜€

…The waffles are gone. They were delicious. The moments pass. One by one they go from a moment of being to nothing more than a recollection. Impermanent. A small piece of a larger whole. Any given moment, however good, however difficult, is another chance to begin again. It’s something. It’s enough.