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Find The Sweet Spot

October 19, 2017 //
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My busy week has been nothing like “routine”. I’m still smiling. I did not see my Traveling Partner last night, as we’d planned, the hour of evening was later than we’d figured when my hair appointment ended, I’d started the day quite tired already, and my partner considerately suggested I get the rest I needed and embrace the late Thursday night ahead without additional fatigue. Good idea. I agreed. I’m still smiling. I’m alert. Rested. In no particular pain in spite of the rainy morning. I am ready for a late night! Bring it!

It’s been a busy week, sure. It has, however, been more ups than downs. More successes than failures. More challenges overcome, than challenges that thwarted me. More wins than losses. More beautiful moments than aggravating ones. I suspect that this is the truth of life, generally, much of the time, for most of us – if we can find the sweet spot in our perspective from which to view our experience.

This morning I sip my coffee and practice a favorite practice – I take the things I need to practice it with me everywhere I go: memory, experiences, presence, and a kindly disposition toward my very human self. I start simply enough, by remembering something, maybe looking through my recent photographs, or contemplating a moment, conversation, or experience – one that felt really good. That’s the important bit; start with something that feels amazing, before working towards transforming the perspective on a less comfortable moment. Because that’s totally possible too, and does not require compromising my values, telling myself pretty lies, ignoring painful truths, or constructing a fake narrative, it just takes some understanding, some compassion – and some practice. (I learned to transform some painful, awkward, or uncomfortable recollections into recollections with positive value more or less by accident, through the practice of “taking in the good“, and I don’t have “steps” to offer to make that a reliable thing; it requires practice, no avoiding that.)

Did the phrase “working towards” cause you to lose interest? Yeah… You’re probably going to have to get over that. Just saying. There are verbs involved. The effort must, in fact, and unavoidably, be your own. 😉

A beautiful way to say thank you (to me) (because I like flowers) (in vases) (and being appreciated). Flowers from colleagues. My work space smells like a garden. 😀

The complicated week has been dimpled with beautiful moments. A promotion. An appreciative gift of flowers. Smiles from colleagues in moments of shared success and celebration. A festive dinner out with my Traveling Partner and a dear friend. A delightful outcome on new hair color. It’s not even over yet – and there’s still more to appreciate, to pause for, to savor, to relish, to sit with in gentle contemplation over a great cup of coffee, too early in the morning. 🙂

So look, my life isn’t “perfect” (and that’s not a thing, so let that go now!) – my arthritis pain has been kicking my ass all this rainy chilly week, and I’ve had an on again/off again headache that has chased me for days. My schedule is a so far off routine at this point it is wreckage, calendar in useless tatters, which is deeply uncomfortable for me. My sleep, until last night, has been of exceedingly poor quality, offering little rest. A wee fish in my aquarium died. The first time my Traveling Partner ever saw my new place, my bed wasn’t made – which bugs me. The powerful “Me, Too.” meme unfolded on Facebook and Twitter, which although powerful and extraordinary, was also painful, uncomfortable, and saddening. Life is not about perfection. We are human. So human. Pain is a thing. Sickness is a thing. Emotional anguish is a thing. Running late is a thing. Being ditched is a thing. Disappointment is a thing. Setting ourselves up for failure is a thing. Learned helplessness is a thing. This is a “choose your own adventure” sort of experience – and you have choices. But…

It isn’t “easy”. It does take practice. It is utterly necessary to “do something” about “that” – whatever it is. 🙂 One thing at a time, and it’s okay to take it slow, to fumble, to get it wrong, and to have to begin again…

…like…

…a bunch of times.

This is your experience. The craftsmanship involved in making it a “good one” (defined by you) is yours.

This morning I’m fortunate to be sitting in the sweet spot. It’s been a busy week. I’m still smiling. That’s enough. 🙂

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Categories anger, Anxiety, autumn, Brain Injury, Free Will, Frustration, grief, Healthy Living, Logic & Reason, Love, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, pain, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Rape, Relationships, Sleepless Nights, The Art of Being, The Big 5, Words

Tells

October 18, 2017 //
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The alarm beeped for a while. A while. Eventually I shut it off. Turned on a light. Tried to piece together a sense of “where am I?” and “why is now?” lol I came up short on “why”, but managed open eyes and sufficient balance to get out of bed. I’m groggy again this morning. I woke yearning for the sweet sweet sensation of sleeping in, and looking forward to Saturday. I almost convinced myself it was.

I yawned through my morning routine, empty of content but still contented. My coffee seems lackluster, but I am still drinking it. Practice(s) seem pretty pointless from this perspective, but I practice nonetheless.

Some time later I sit down to write. I’m still not “awake”. So the week, an important and also overly busy one, rich with big distractions, and small disruptions to carefully selected self-care practices, slows creeps forward productively, successfully, and calmly, without requiring me to be awake upon waking. I’m managing to make much of the day-to-day turmoil look less chaotic than it feels, and I suspect most of my colleagues don’t see much evidence of stress – but the evidence is all around. I have “tells“. I look for similar tells with friends, loved ones, colleagues, strangers – part of the idea of “emotional intelligence” is a simple considerate practical awareness of not only what I am going through myself, but also what others may be going through, leaving room midst my awareness for them to actually speak about it if they care to, and my own acceptance that my assumptions must yield to their voices when they do. Those tells can be an important non-verbal signal that something yet-unspoken exists to consider.

My own stress tells are fairly obvious when you know what to look for. Well-manicured hands become torn cuticles, and bitten nails. The usual fairly carefully chosen “look” for work becomes the same sloppy favorite comfort-sweater thrown over everything, just whatever top and jeans, day after day. Others are not as easily spotted unless you are here, at home with me: there is a coffee cup on the counter, not even close to the sink, just left rather nonsensically in a location, and it is from yesterday – how did that not make it into the dishwasher?? My bed isn’t made – it usually is. My dumb bells, instead of being properly put away, were left where they were set (after the last set), in a prominent toe-stub-able location just sort of … out. Chaos creeping in. Routines slowly giving way before breaking down completely. In the office, and at home, the subtlety of seeing a choked email inbox – a rarity for me. Small things. Unavoidable – because I overlook them in the moment, completely. They shout “stress!!!” to the world, but the world most likely isn’t actually listening. We are each having our own experience.

Our tells are actually fairly obvious. Do you know/see your own? It is a simple enough thing, with practice, to notice the tells around you, of other people. It does take practice (for me). It didn’t come “naturally” in any noteworthy way (for me). Working at it, though, has seemed to result in much more satisfying relationships. Between being aware of the experience of others (as much as I am able to do so) and also practicing explicit communication in my relationships, a lot of what used to amount to drama has faded away. It’s nice. It’s been some work. There are verbs involved. It continues to be worth the effort and practice to take time to really listen to other people, to really see them, to really connect and be present.

Simple and real. I find these comfortable sustainable qualities. Well… “real” can be damned uncomfortable now and then, but in a more-comfortable-than-the-alternative sort of way (for me). 🙂

I spent the evening, simple and real, with my Traveling Partner and one of our Mad Hatter friends. I invited them to dinner. Picked them up and enjoyed a lovely evening meal together, in a friendly small town setting. Before dinner I brought them to my new place and showed my partner around. After dinner, I took them back to their place, and hung out awhile, listening to travelers tales, sharing my own, and generally enjoying my partner’s company. It was good fun. There was romance, laughter, friendship, connection… There was no stress. Delicious. Cherished time spent wrapped in love.

I stayed out a bit later than ideal, though. I don’t care much about that right now, though I know it will come at a cost, and that by Friday my consciousness may be wreckage, my emotional resilience lost to reactivity, over-stimulation, and fatigue. Hair today… concert tomorrow… but Friday night I can sink into slumber, no alarm clock, and wake when I wake, and begin again on Saturday. I can do this! 🙂

I sip my coffee. Count my memories like gold coins, letting my “treasure” cascade through my thoughts, a trickle, a stream, a waterfall. I’m still not awake, yet, not really, but the day begins in a satisfying way, and my perspective is merry and contented. It’s enough. I can begin again from right here… 🙂

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Categories Brain Injury, Free Will, Healthy Living, Love, Mindfulness, Moments, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Relationships, Sleepless Nights, The Art of Being, The Big 5

All That Planning, Then…

October 17, 2017 //
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Real life happens. It shreds my planning pretty regularly. Yours, too? I imagine so. 🙂

I sip my coffee, groggy, reluctant to fully wake, and wistfully contemplating my still-warm bed just there, in the other room… Had this morning gone according to plan, I’d already be at work right now. I’m quite content to be sipping my coffee on a more ordinary morning than that. The long work day, and late-ish evening, and the difficulty getting sufficiently relaxed soon enough to find sleep just mean I’m groggy. Tired. Still disoriented and kind of stupid. I keep sipping my coffee – rather more aggressively than most mornings. I’ll certainly have another. lol

Change is a thing. I knew that “before I knew that”, I mean, those words all have meanings I understood. At this point, I sometimes wonder why I fought it so hard, so often? I chuckle remembering the first time (I think, from my perspective now) that I heard the phrase “embrace change” – it was in the context of work, and seemed… amusing, more than inspiring or motivating. My cynicism at that time definitely got in the way of my personal progress. Also a thing. I had to make a point of learning to be open to change, even learning to be open to growth, to success, to love. It was hardest when it turned out some of those things weren’t at all what I thought they were. lol I also had to learn to be open to discovery, generally, because often things were not what they seemed, when I began to explore them more deeply.  At some point, it became easier to ask “what does this even mean, really?” in the face of change, rather than fight it, or struggle with a fading reality, clinging to something that is slipping away.

I am rambling. Still groggy. Bits and pieces of consciousness a bit like a large box of unsorted photographs of distant relatives and long-past vacations, spilling out, tumbling down in disarray, becoming words on a page, lacking theme or direction, or (possibly) coherence. lol I drink coffee. I write words. It is too early on too little sleep to do also do it very well. 🙂

The end of the work day seems quite far away. My Traveling Partner seems nearer, somehow, although he is quite a way away, yet, he is nearer than yesterday at this time. 😀 Will I see him tonight? Maybe. Maybe tomorrow after I get my hair done. Definitely Thursday for the concert. Damn I am so tired, right now, already. I remind myself that each day ends with a night, and I yearn for night to come so I can sleep some more. lol

Coffee’s gone. I’ll need another. It’s time to begin again. 🙂

 

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Categories Brain Injury, Free Will, Healthy Living, Love, Mindfulness, Moments, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Relationships, Sleepless Nights, The Art of Being

Look Elsewhere, Look Within

October 15, 2017 //
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I was a bit lonely yesterday. It happens sometimes, and it an occasional inevitable byproduct of living alone. I’d heard from my Traveling Partner quite early, and very briefly; he was awakened by way of practical joke, after a late night working. (Which, while it must have seemed an amusing notion in the abstract to the prankster(s)… really?? What the hell, grownups? No. Just, no. Jokes that amuse at the specific expense of someone else’s discomfort aren’t actually funny to the person who endures them. My opinion, but admittedly, I learned that fairly late in life, myself, sometime in my 30s.) He shared his irritation and we both moved on with our mornings. I didn’t hear from him again, yesterday, aside from seeing an occasional like or post or reply on Facebook.

I spent the day contentedly working down my “to do list” of things both needful and helpful, and a few things that were subtle improvements that were in no way actually necessary. Music played in the background throughout the day. Near the end of the day, as I began to tire, I began also to miss my Traveling Partner immensely, and yearning for any little moment of connection or contact. Nothing. He was busy elsewhere, doing other things, and did not have the time or inclination to connect with me. This has to be okay; we are humans, living our lives, and do not live together. Sometimes, one of us will be busy with what is in front of us, right here, right now, and that distant lover is… distant. Far away. Not here. I ended the day feeling lonely, and a little unsettled; I’m used to more contact with him over a weekend, unless he explicitly sets expectations that I won’t hear from him. Lacking that expectation-setting, I allowed myself other implicit expectations and fucked myself over, emotionally; loneliness settled in with my fatigue, late in the day. Which sucked. But… I wasn’t having a shitty day, there wasn’t any drama, or cause for alarm, and really – I was okay, and most likely, so was he. All good.

I put down that baggage several times, and moved on to other things. “Practices” take practice – actual repetition, actual verbs, actually doing the things. Yoga. Strength training. Study. Deep listening – even to the woman in the mirror – have such value. I made a point to allow myself to be heard, to feel understood, by me, myself, and it was enough. I went to bed just a bit disappointed that I hadn’t heard from him, and hoping that he was well, and content, and feeling loved. I reminded myself how loved I am, and when I wrapped myself in my blankets as I crawled into bed, I felt content, and warm, and yes, loved, too. All good. No heartache.

I woke once very early, and saw that my Traveling Partner had messaged me quite late. He even tried to call. He was sorry I was lonely and feeling unsettled. He’d had a busy day with a lot of work going on, and some help at hand – so a limited opportunity to get quite a lot done, and he’d been involved in that. Makes sense to me. I smiled in the darkness. On my way back to bed, I hoped that he wasn’t too disappointed not to reach me by phone, after I’d gone to bed. Even though I saw him last weekend, I miss him greatly, already. I fell asleep reminded that I would be seeing him this week, showing him the new place, going to a concert with him…

My loneliness yesterday wasn’t a matter of being without Love in my experience of living. It was a matter of choices; I had a list of things to do, and was insisting (to myself) on doing them. lol That was a choice. I made that choice because it was, in my opinion, needful. My loneliness increased over the day, not hearing from my partner, because I’d hung on to an implicit expectation of hearing from him “more often” (I’ll point out how poorly defined “more often” is…), not because he’d actually let me down in any way. My emotional life is mine. The emotional “climate”, the emotional “weather”, the long-term experience of self, the immediate turmoil of some moment – these are all mine to manage, to endure, to delight in, to change, to explore, to accept, reject, or to resist as if it were madness. No one actually “made me” feel lonely – feeling lonely was merely my reaction to insisting (for myself) that I stay home and “work the list” rather than be out and about doing things with friends. I had shit to do. I chose to do it. <shrugs> It’s not even a thing this morning.

For me, today, it matters far more than my loneliness matters to my Traveling Partner, even at a distance, than the fact that I experienced some loneliness. His reassuring message and attempts to call were sufficient reassurance that he was okay, and adequate reminder that I matter (to him). I sometimes worry when I don’t hear from him. He heard me. I feel heard. All good.

I smile and sip my coffee and think about hearing and listening. I think about feeling heard. I think about emotion and reason, and love and lovers. I think about perspective and balance. I think about being the best human being I am able to be with the resources and qualities of character that I have right now. I think about walking my own path, and becoming the woman I most want to be.

Eventually, I think about my “to do list”, and the autumn leaves on the deck I have yet to sweep up. I smile, sip my coffee, and get ready to begin again. 🙂

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Categories Anxiety, autumn, Brain Injury, Free Will, Healthy Living, Logic & Reason, loneliness, Love, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Relationships, The Art of Being, The Big 5, Words

So In Love

October 14, 2017 //
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Weird morning. Strange emotional context to wake into. I sip my coffee feeling very much in love – that “wrapped in delight” almost giddy feeling of excitement just to be in the presence of a special someone. I woke with a song in my head. Funny. Strange choice? Maybe… particularly considering the object of my affections this morning is… me. lol Yeah, that’s a weird one to write about. I’m sort of “crushing on myself” this morning, grooving to tunes I love, too early in the morning, sipping my coffee. Grabbing my bass now and then to try to slowly pick out some particular bit of bass line that catches my attention. It’s a very “now” sort of experience. I feel content. Filled with quiet delight and satisfaction… What is this feeling?

I’m okay right now. Wow – does that actually feel this good, given a chance?

I take a moment for perspective. Sip my coffee appreciatively (another great cup of coffee, and a lovely start to a Saturday morning). I went to bed very early, feeling sick, teetering on the beginning of a head cold I was hoping could be put to rest with… some rest. I feel some better this morning… maybe I won’t get a cold after all? Still, that killer headache I went to bed with was a real thing. I consider the possibility that my current delicious delightful warm and merry emotional state of being may be a byproduct of wellness, unwellness, or biochemical weirdness of some other unspecified sort… Well… I still feel. 🙂  Among all the many ways I could feel at the start of a day, this is, without a doubt, once of the most enjoyable. I feel happy with who I am, who I have become over time, with how I care for myself these days. I smile. The track on my playlist changes. The moment moves on, and becomes new again.

I sip my coffee and smile thinking about my Traveling Partner. I think about parties and friends far away. I think about my niece taking adulthood for her first real spin around the block – 18 already? I smile, and have another drink of my coffee. I think about upcoming holidays, concerts, and plans. I think about work. I think about the container garden on my patio. I think about chickens. I think about a metamour down south and the lovely view from the mountainside on which she makes her home. I think about time. I think about thyme. I think about change. I let my mind wander. I let the music play. I think about late nights, and early mornings. Still smiling, I finish my coffee, and start my day. 🙂

 

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Categories Brain Injury, Free Will, Healthy Living, Love, Mindfulness, Moments, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Relationships, Roses, The Art of Being, The Big 5
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