Archives for posts with tag: ptsd

I woke to the alarm this morning. I slept, I think, through the night. When I woke, my sense of things was that it was exceedingly quiet. The kind of quiet that seems made of anticipation, and held breath. I exhale. I inhale. I breathe. As waking becomes meditation, an almost automatic response to a feeling of ‘dis-ease’ (I remember, too late, the word “uneasy”), my breathing becomes deep, comfortable, relaxed – and reliable. Sometimes I hold my breath without realizing it (maybe that’s a primate thing, or maybe just me, doesn’t matter right now); deep, relaxed breathing, tends to reduce anxiety caused by not breathing. Go figure. 😉

I give myself a few minutes to “get my bearings” and become more completely awake. I am alone this morning. Not just alone-because-I’m-by-myself, but also alone because most everything is precisely where I, myself, have placed it, and where I expect things to be, and also because the bags and baggage of my house guest are no longer here, and stray odd things my traveling partner brought over, with few exceptions, are also returned to their natural places in the world, more or less; they are not here.  Unsettling initially; apparently it takes me about two weeks to get used to having to detour around stuff that isn’t where it ought to be. I’m over that, already, and enjoying the quiet greatly… and will shortly enjoy some music, some early morning housekeeping, a second cup of coffee… and missing my traveling partner. 🙂

Enjoying missing my traveling partner? How does that even work? I don’t have an answer really, but two weeks with a house guest, a new job, new routines, changing personal care needs, having to stock the fridge with foods I don’t eat, not being able to meditate easily when I want or need to, accommodating other musical taste, other agendas, other interests – and often at the expense of my own – and even being nudged uncomfortably into yielding too often to an utter lack of any semblance of planning, or being considered when plans are made in my absence (almost certainly not the actual literal truth, it just often felt that way)… I still miss my traveling partner, and I’m glad (at least in this moment) to have that luxury for some little while. I need a break to care for myself, and figure out just a little more about how to do so skillfully in the face of guests, family, circumstances, employment – all of the things. lol

The quiet this morning is so very… quiet. When I pause to savor this peaceful moment, I notice that I still hear the ceaseless sound of traffic, the commuter train, the hum of the refrigerator, the occasional patter of raindrops… no simple silence this, it is quiet within, as much as it is quiet around me. That’s the quiet that I’m seeking – isn’t it? I’m not really asking, I’m just noticing, not for the first time, that it is the elusive quiet within myself that is so… elusive. Right. I used the word. Sorry – still on my first coffee. I comment quietly to myself how much more difficult this quiet is to build, to linger on, to enjoy, in the typical rush of a busy work week. Coming home exhausted to find a party in progress has some delight to it, but very little quiet. This particular thing, this finding quiet in the storms and bother of a busy adult life, this is the journey. Well… it’s a journey. It is my journey. 🙂 You can have it too, if you want – we can walk on, together, separately. There’s no limit on who takes this journey, there’s no competition over who walks farther, faster, or who reaches the highest height, or purest moment of awareness; there’s no trophy. There’s also nothing to wait for – gear up, my friends! Whether you lace up sneakers or hiking boots, walk slowly with a cane carrying your coffee in the other hand or wearing a fancy name brand hydration pack, if you begin again – and then begin again – and then again – and every time you falter you walk on from what hurts, and you walk on from what doesn’t work, and you walk on because you enjoy your own forward momentum in life, you’ll find the journey unfolds in its own way… your way. 🙂 Don’t worry too much about the destination, it’s a thing that seems to change with fair frequency, and has the least relevance to the step being taken “now”. Now is enough. Are you ready to walk on?

For clarity – it’s a metaphor; most sorts of things I struggle with don’t require a literal departure on foot and miles of walking. 🙂 (Some have…) It’s a favorite journey metaphor, for me, because I do walk so much… perhaps you are a runner, and your metaphor for forward momentum in life is a bit faster? Maybe you travel passionately, and your metaphor involves planes, airports, far away terminals, and distant wilderness unseen by amateur eyes? This adventure called life is “choose your own adventure” on levels so deep that even the metaphors are yours to choose, although I’m delighted to share mine with you. 🙂 I like a handy metaphor.

My phone chimes at me, notifying me of… something. I’ve no idea what. I had my last phone for literally years before I worked out how I wanted all the notifications to sound, and which would be silenced entirely. I’m beginning again. I’ve at least “tamed” them for now; the sounds are pleasant. The sounds are also pretty pointless. For now they communicate nothing much, only that on some form of incoming communication media that isn’t the phone, someone is trying to reach me. LOL I have to check to see whether I want to check to see what it is. Hopefully within days, I’ll know by sound what message app is pinging my consciousness, and whether I care to respond immediately or later, without anything but the notification chime alerting me; it’s a huge savings in mental bandwidth.

Life has a certain amount of natural order. I sip my coffee and enjoy that.

Life has a certain amount of natural order. I sip my coffee and enjoy that.

It’s a Monday morning. There are practices that precede the commute. Today, it’s enough to practice. Tomorrow, I can begin again. 🙂

Let’s not talk about yesterday. Well… we could, but if we do, let’s only talk about the best bits, the fun of it, the things that worked, how we overcame a challenge, why we’re feeling good about the future – and if we don’t have any of that to appreciate, let’s take a moment to be right here, right now, and just breathe through the things weighing us down. It’ll pass.

I woke earlier than the rest of the household. I indulged in a rare (for now) luxury; meditation without a timer, on my cushion, in the patio doorway, watching the night become dawn, and unfold into day. Almost two hours later, I made a cup of coffee, feeling nurtured and enriched. I needed that so urgently.

My emotional resilience begins to erode quickly without my meditation practice; I don’t withstand the continued onslaught of human emotions, drama, assumptions, projections, noise, or even endure the ongoing presence of other consciousness’ very well without literal every day meditation. Having a house guest, and my traveling partner staying over, and parties breaking out at my place before I even get home from work has meant that I don’t have the quiet time I really need with any reliability, right now. This too will pass. I’m not even bitching – I get to spend a wonderful amount of time with my traveling partner. I don’t grudge him his human moments. We all have them.

He has his own perspective.

He has his own perspective; he’s having his own experience.

My walk this morning took me, new camera (phone) in hand, around and through the park. Autumn is showing up everywhere. It was lovely, and time well-spent. It’s enough.

Autumn is here.

Autumn is here.

Today is a good day to is a good day to breathe, and to practice. Today is a good day to begin again.

 

 

Yesterday was too much, a lot too much, and in a good way, which only made it more challenging to process and to wholly enjoy. Looking back on yesterday is still so intensely pleasing that it causes me some measure of actual anxiety, which is simultaneously somewhat amusing, and somewhat irritating, an emotional state of affairs usefully reminding me that I am… if not “unhinged”, potentially at least mildly at risk of having an unexpected emotional moment, inconveniently timed. I’ll be mindful of my humanity today, and treat myself well – gently, and with great compassion. I mean… I’ll make that a thing, in my awareness, and do my best. 🙂 Practices take practice.

Yesterday wasn’t so much fancy, or elaborately planned, or exotic; a party broke out at my place, unexpectedly awaiting my arrival home (surprise!), and to my great delight, all friends who are quite dear to me, my traveling partner, his son, a new personal device (my phone needed replacing, and the new one arrived), and although the din and the fun were exciting – and quite joyfully so – it was a lot to take. There was no place or time for meditation, or a few quiet minutes of conversation with my partner on “date night” – it was a celebration, though, among friends, and I had things I wanted to celebrate, for me, and so – party! Well-timed. Thoroughly enjoyed. I even managed to get to bed at an acceptable time to still get some rest, enough for a day’s work. Sipping my coffee this morning, I have no doubt I am loved, and fortunate to have a fair few good friends.

I sip my coffee. It’s different today. Quiet coffee. A fast efficient coffee maker stands on the counter. The process lacks the… ritual? The meditation. It lacks the meditation and formality of making a good pour over, but it is very quiet in the morning, with my traveling partner and son sleeping nearby. (The burr grinder is quite loud, and making a pour over at 5:00 am is a rude wake up call for those inclined to sleep, and the purchase was timed with sleeping visitors in mind.)

I fuss with the new phone a bit. Every iteration of new device is more… complicated. This one is lavish with options and features and things to sign into, to set up, and to configure. What a pain in the ass – and not something to delegate. Some human beings are very particular (looking your way, woman-in-the-mirror), and attempting to hand-off set up tasks results in aggravation later. This new device is “mine” right now in assigned phone number only; she lacks character, details, and quirks in the set up and configuration unique to my own needs. For one thing; I freaking detest audible notifications of most sorts, that annoying notification light is not welcome either, and I find haptic feedback buzzing my fingertips all the time damned creepy. All that stuff gets turned off on my devices, (I’ll check my phone when I please) and notifications get changed to options that neither irritate my nervous system, nor end up being unnoticeable (I just don’t ever seem to hear some ringtones).  So, it’s days ahead of periodically becoming fed up with some “feature” and “fixing it”, and moving on to the next when that next one bothers me.

Over time, an inanimate device becomes more personal to me. The result is a “phone” (a tiny super computer, really) that is part of who I am on a level that is probably quite inappropriate for my emotional health… it becomes harder and harder to let one go for the next one. This last grieved me – my damned phone almost seemed to “break up with me” in a very troubling way. (Usually, I let the phone go, not the other way around.) I doubt anyone noticed last night, as my old phone was being… de-personalized, when I shook my finger at her in passing and quietly said “I’m so over your bullshit. I’m done with you.” with tears in my eyes. It seemed a proper break up move, and I needed to let her go… It was still so very hard. I loved her.

Today is a good day to let the things go that don’t work – phones, stale metaphors, old leftovers, illusions, assumptions, a poor decision… There are things worthy of being dropped off along with the recycling and the trash. It’s a good day to walk on, from the last phone, the last job, old baggage, previous relationships – why carry all that with me? Sounds easy – it’s not that it isn’t as easy as it sounds; it takes practice, and verbs. Still… It is a new day, and I can begin again. New day… new phone… new camera (phone)… What does the moment hold?

New day. New camera. New settings. Begin again.

New day. New camera. New settings. Begin again.

 

I’m tired tonight. It’s evening, and it’s been some time since I took time for writing in the twilight of the day’s last few minutes. It feels different, and for a moment my fatigue eases. That doesn’t last long. 🙂

A new view.

A new view

I’m tired. New job. New commute. New routine. Less leisure time (by far) – and less time for self-care. Everything is compressed into the few hours that frame the work day. The lost time is my least favorite quality about employment. Still, with some organization, some memory aids, and a commitment to practice, today went better on the self-care side than either of the first two days. 🙂 It’s enough. There’s more time to practice.

Tonight I am a woman of few words, having used those I had earlier in the day. I’m tired. “Brain tired” more than body tired; today I immersed myself in new puzzles, new programs, new processes, new language, new culture, new ideas, new collaborative partnerships, and began the work of building new processes for a new way of doing things. Exhausted doesn’t begin to describe the peculiar limbo in which I find myself cognitively. South Park plays in the background. Tonight it is too intellectual for me. I zone out as I write, one sentence at a time, checking the previous sentences of the paragraph each time. Spelling? Well… that’ll be a best effort, and I’m content with that.

The evening light is fading. I am too. It’ll be an early night tonight, and all the self-care I can gently manage in the time between this moment, and the moment I fall asleep. I need more practice. I suppose, tomorrow, I can begin again. 🙂

I remember my very first smart phone. I was a little overwhelmed, and unsure I had any need for some of what it could do. Over time, I added apps that were useful to me, removed the ones that weren’t. I built bad habits that took my attention away from living people, right along with just about everyone I knew, and then many of us eased up off of that, returning to a more civil, emotionally connected life, engaging with my friends more deeply when we are together, and setting aside the distractions of devices – as much as I can figure out how. Some of us, of course, remain more fully attached to the devices that are so convenient… I did not see myself as one of those people. Then, last night my phone died. Battery ran down unattended in a busy moment during the work day, and peculiarly, efforts to revive it were… ineffective. At least initially. I got it charged, and powered it back on after work and… oh hell. My data is gone.

My data is gone. Well… shit.

Now, frankly, a calm adult “well, shit…” is not how that went down last night. There was a moment of pure panic, some agitated troubleshooting, and then… well, I fought off hysteria and tears, sort of, and vented over email to my traveling partner. That sounds grown-up-ish… right? He phoned immediately; he knows me. The sound of his reassuring voice undid my resolve to hold back the wave of strong emotion, and I fell completely apart – my data is gone!! It felt… personal. It felt terrifying. I felt… unrecognized by my phone. Only… that sounds kind of silly, and it didn’t feel at all silly. It felt entirely terrifying… two weeks of fitness progress… that was what stung most in the moment. He talked me down. Reminded me, rationally, calmly, that the progress itself isn’t in the phone, or the tracker, or a spreadsheet. He talked me through calming breaths. I was okay, and it wasn’t a disaster – however disastrous it felt – and it would be okay. I would just have to start over.

Oh. Right. Begin again. Just begin again. Okay… I can do that. I know to do that. It’s a thing I do. And breathe. I’ll breathe, too, that helps. It helps a lot, the panicked infrequent gulps of air I was surviving on weren’t really helping.

I set up my phone, again, frustrated that wouldn’t restore from the backup, either. My phone is not enjoying the Marshmallow upgrade. It is what it is. Each time I open another app I rely on, and find that my password isn’t saved, my data isn’t there, and the app is functionally fairly useless without being set up all over again I experience another wave of frustration… and grief… and then anger that I’m grieving over data. Then, finally, I let all that go, and let myself sleep.

This morning my phone is just a phone. There are no tears. The anger, the hysteria, the sense that all is lost, have dissipated in the night. It’s convenient to have a phone that has GPS and email. This one is no longer my ‘back up brain’ and I am once more painfully aware why there is still value in hardbound books, handwritten letters, and moments of conversation with friends face to face; data lacks substance. Data is easily lost. Data can be destroyed. Data is not memory. Data is not living. Data, most importantly, is not identity. Hell… much of what I consider to identify me, doesn’t really. So much of it is changeable or arbitrary. I find myself back to the question lingering in my thoughts recently, “who am I?”… I know one thing with fair certainty, I am not a phone. 🙂

I’m still irritated every time I look at the fucking thing. (This too will pass.)

I sip my coffee thinking, for a time, of all the ways in which I may suffer if suddenly – for example – there were a global power failure, and just… nothing that operates on electricity. Well, that’s the most catastrophic loss of data I can imagine, honestly, so that’s where my thoughts go. I’d be okay, for most values of okay, and the data itself would be far from my first concern. When did our data become so important? When did my phone become such a powerful presence in my experience – hell, for that matter, when did it become a fucking “presence”?? There are things to consider here, and one of them is untethering my self from my phone more completely. Maybe starting with my camera… It’s something to consider.

Some of life’s curriculum is disruptive and painful. (Some of it only feels that way.)  Only a very small portion is catastrophic, and few of us ever know real catastrophe, and then only rarely – my phone’s untimely demise definitely does not count among life’s catastrophic events. I woke feeling grateful for a supportive partner, willing and able to help me keep things in perspective. I woke feeling grateful to be working again, and for the resources to repair or replace things of value when they fail. I woke feeling grateful that my own fleeting memory, however it may fail me, is “built-in” and doing a pretty splendid job, generally. I woke feeling grateful that my experience is still my experience, and feeling grateful to be without pain. I am okay right now… and a phone is just a phone.

Well, sure. This.

Well, sure. This.

Today is a good day for perspective, and a good day for gratitude. Today is a good day to put down the phone. 🙂