Archives for posts with tag: sufficiency
« Older Entries
Newer Entries »

Other Thoughts

September 19, 2024 //
0

Quiet morning. Nothing much going on. Nothing much “in my head”. Pain is pain. Love is love. Human primates are a mixed bag of wonderful and vile. Life is worth living. The journey is the destination.

… Get off your fucking cell phone when you’re with people, and most especially when you’re operating a moving fucking vehicle. There’s no text message worth dying for, and no distraction worth killing for. Just saying. Stop doing that dumb shit. (Being glued to your damned phone when you’re spending time with people is just rude, not lethal, but still rude, so maybe don’t, eh?) Friendly PSA. I know, you didn’t ask.

I sit quietly with my lack of thoughts and my breath, waiting for the sun. Another work day. My tinnitus shrieks in my ears. My back aches. My head aches. I’d like to feel more comfortable but that’s apparently not a today thing, at least not in this moment. I distract myself with my coffee (it’s very good this morning), and some moments spent gazing at the nearly full waning moon. Beautiful. Worth the time spent just looking at it. It hangs overhead successfully outshining the parking lot lights that are unfortunately also in view. (What the hell is the matter with us, always trying to light up the darkness as though it were daylight and making all kinds of noise?!)

I breathe, exhale, and relax. I have the vague feeling of “having a bunch of shit to do’, but can’t recall why I feel that way. I’ve got a bit of a break, some away time, planned for a couple weeks from now. I clearly need it. Again. G’damn why do I run myself ragged this way? I can’t possibly get “all of everything” done all the time, and I only exhaust and frustrate (and disappoint) myself by thinking otherwise. I could treat myself better…

I breathe, exhale, and relax. I feel my shoulders relax, and my back. Pain sucks. It’s not always easily manageable. Sometimes it isn’t manageable at all. I generally make a point of “not bitching about it” – but this doesn’t always serve me well, it just keeps anyone else from being overly troubled by it while I trudge onward, doing my best. “Chronic pain” is not particularly descriptive of the lifetime experience of living with pain. It’s just a handy label. Be kind to people; there’s a lot of pain in the world and a lot of people not complaining.

… The sky begins to lighten…

Another chance to begin again.

Perspective. Sufficiency. Mindfulness. Kindness. Compassion. Non-attachment. Self-care. Consideration. So many things to practice on this journey… I can’t say I’ve “mastered” any of these, though they all matter to me, and I do practice them. It is a very humbling experience, this human life. My best efforts often feel inadequate, not because they truly are, but simply because I am so very human, and somehow expect so much more of myself than I know how to deliver. I keep practicing. I reflect on my failures – without ruminating. I reflect on my successes – without becoming arrogant or complacent. One day, one moment, at a time down this path that has no end. No end I can see, at least for now. We are mortal creatures. I don’t recall the beginning of this journey. I may not be aware of the end when it comes. How very peculiar. How very human.

I breathe, exhale, and relax. Daybreak has come. I can see the trail sufficiently well to walk it safely. I’ve got my boots on, and my cane by my side. I finish my coffee and look out across the meadow. A low mist clings to the ground. It’s time to begin again.

Every sunrise a new beginning.
Tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,
Categories Allegories, autumn, Brain Injury, breathe, Free Will, gratitude, health, Love, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Oregon Trails, pain, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, solo hiking, The Art of Being

A Monday Moment

September 16, 2024 //
0

It’s dark and I am waiting for the sun. I’m sitting at the trailhead, paused between meditation and writing, some time before my walk. It’s a Monday morning, probably a fairly routine one… But… And?

I’m feeling a bit “off”, somehow. Vaguely irritable, only… maybe not? I don’t know. I’m in a strange discontented headspace, with nothing much to complain about, and nothing going on that actually seems “wrong”. I’m not “unhappy”… neither am I “happy”. I sigh heavily. The weekend wasn’t particularly restful or productive. I enjoyed it in the company of my Traveling Partner, and that was pretty nice. I very much feel that I should be looking back on it with much more gratitude and enthusiasm, but… this strange discontented mood has a pretty firm hold on me. Something like the sensation of wanting something I simply can’t have, ever, and knowing it while only half accepting it, but also not taking any steps to change that. Weird mood.

Soon enough I’ll have to “put my work face on”, and wholly adopt a certain professional positivity, and get the day going. Fine. I will and it’ll work out. I’m just…here… now, in this very different place. No idea why. I feel almost as though laying down for awhile and just… weeping… might be a more authentic use of my time, but it seems like a fairly childish and ineffective approach to take.

…I wonder if my walk will help…

I breathe, exhale, and relax, waiting for the sun. I’m not yet in any particular amount of pain. This could be a very pleasant moment. It isn’t quite. Am I, perhaps, reacting to my Traveling Partner’s (understandable) feelings of depression and negativity, as he confronts and deals with his emotions regarding potential long-term consequences of his (more severe than we knew at the time) injury, or becoming fused with that experience instead of living my own? It’s possible. We spent the weekend closely together, enjoying (or sometimes not enjoying) each other’s company.

… Maybe I didn’t get enough rest? Or didn’t get enough done…?

Another sigh breaks the silence. The sky slowly lightens as daybreak approaches. I think to myself that perhaps I could sleep a bit later in the morning now that the days are shorter, but I know it’s a wasted thought; I wake when I wake. It happens to be quite early. I do my best to make good use of the time.

… I resent feeling so stupidly fussy and irritable without good cause…

I pause my writing and my thoughts when my alarm reminds me to take my morning meds. I do that while noting sourly to myself that as things are going, I’ll be unlikely to ever retire, becoming one of those older folks who works for a living until my grave opens up to receive the last of my frail remains. G’damn that’s fucking depressing. I’ve wanted to retire since I entered the fucking workforce. I take a deep breath and let it go, along with the thought. The future is not written. I breathe, exhale, relax, and bring myself back to this moment, which, although characterized by this almost comically bleak mood, isn’t really all that bad, otherwise.

Be here, now.

I work at resetting my mood. I fail, and I try again. I look for different perspectives. I take a moment to really “hear myself”. Limited success, and I keep trying. I know “the way out is through” and I know I will become what I practice. I keep practicing. Change is, and eventually this mood will pass. Eventually, I’ll understand what gadfly is biting my metaphysical ass and be more easily able to do something about it. Slow going, this morning, and my irritability vexes me.

The first hint of a new day.

Daybreak comes, and with it a chance to begin again. I frown pointlessly at the sky, missing old friends and somehow also missing solitude (in spite of being literally alone in this moment). I grab my cane and get my stupid human ass out of the car and on my feet. It’s time to begin again.

… Maybe I can just walk it off…?

Tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,
Categories Allegories, anhedonia, Anxiety, autumn, Brain Injury, breathe, Free Will, Frustration, health, loneliness, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, more than a little bit of bitching, Oregon Trails, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, solo hiking, The Art of Being, War and News of War

61 Lessons From One Lifetime

August 13, 2024 //
0

I’ve spent the day relaxing in this quiet room, and providing my Traveling Partner with caregiving. It’s detail-oriented personal service work, providing care to this human being I love so deeply. Still, it has been a day with ample time for reflecting on life and love and what I have learned along the way.

Here are 61 lessons from my mortal lifetime thus far:

  1. There’s always something more to learn.
  2. Change is a constant.
  3. Zest for life is closely tied to experiences of wonder and awe.
  4. Self-care matters.
  5. Meditation is an effective practice.
  6. We become what we practice.
  7. We each have the power to define success for ourself.
  8. Setting boundaries is a self-care practice.
  9. Our values are not what we say they are; they are what we live and practice.
  10. Taking the time to do something well is reliably more efficient than having to do it more than once.
  11. Anxiety is a liar.
  12. Chasing happiness does not result in greater happiness.
  13. Lust is mostly a matter of biology.
  14. Savoring life’s small joys and making time for gratitude builds emotional resilience.
  15. Human primates operate “emotion first”.
  16. Our quality of life is more dependent on the quality of our relationships than the size of our paychecks.
  17. Assumptions are not facts.
  18. Expectations are not facts.
  19. Opinions are not facts.
  20. Beliefs are not facts.
  21. The catchiness of a slogan has no bearing on its truth or usefulness.
  22. Very few of life’s stressful moments have lasting impact.
  23. I probably need to drink more water.
  24. “Wealth” is relative.
  25. The person who throws the punch doesn’t get to decide whether it hurt.
  26. We are each having our own experience.
  27. A lot of the crap that bothers us most is shit we totally made up in our own heads that has no actual basis in reality.
  28. Self-reflection can help develop perspective.
  29. Rumination can be really damaging, and tends to limit perspective.
  30. The difference between rumination and self-reflection can be subtle.
  31. Emotional intelligence has real-world value.
  32. Getting enough rest is as important as drinking water, eating healthy food, and exercise.
  33. Solitude can be rich, beautiful, satisfying, and nurturing.
  34. Few people recognize their own confrontational, hostile, angry, or escalated tone of voice.
  35. Forgiving someone is a thing we do for ourself, not for the person being forgiven.
  36. People notice when someone isn’t paying attention.
  37. Distracted driving is potentially lethal.
  38. What we think we understand about human behavior isn’t reliably accurate, and can’t be assumed to apply to all people in every circumstance. It doesn’t.
  39. People are people.
  40. We’re all in this together.
  41. The journey is the destination.
  42. Your lived experience is yours. My lived experience is not yours.
  43. How you behave when you think no one is watching will tell you what your values truly are.
  44. Rationalizing poor behavior doesn’t make the behavior any better.
  45. We feel our own pain the most.
  46. Our ability to understand the world is limited by our perspective.
  47. Being a dick to people is a poor practice with predictably poor outcomes.
  48. Thriving and surviving are two very different experiences.
  49. Reading is an incredibly useful skill, the benefits of which are multiplied by enjoying it.
  50. Art is a way of expressing the things we don’t have words for.
  51. Language functions by agreement.
  52. Carefully defining the terms in a discussion prevents a lot of arguments and misunderstandings.
  53. Apologizing without sincere contrition isn’t really an apology.
  54. Apologizing while making excuses for how the offense is justified, understandable, or must be overlooked isn’t really an apology.
  55. An effective apology is 100% focused on the person hurt and how they were affected, and 0% about how the offender feels about it.
  56. Listening deeply is a powerful relationship building tool which takes time, practice, and effort to develop.
  57. Hijacking a conversation to talk about yourself instead is rude.
  58. Waiting for a turn to talk while someone else is talking is rude.
  59. Interrupting someone while they are speaking is rude
  60. Manners and civility are key to quality of life and cultured society.
  61. Life is worth living.

It’s not science. These are things I’ve learned myself, over a lifetime. I’m not even saying these observations and learnings are “all there is” (what would you add?)… these are just a few things I’ve learned that continue to serve me well.

It’s your journey, up ahead. I’m over here walking my own path. May your path be smooth and the way ahead illuminated.

Every sunrise is a chance to begin again.
Tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,
Categories anger, anhedonia, Anxiety, Brain Injury, breathe, Despair, forgiveness, Free Will, Frustration, gratitude, grief, inspiration, Love, meditation, Perspective, Practices, Relationships, The Art of Being, Words

Something Like Normal

August 3, 2024 //
0

I finished my walk with a contented sigh, and changed from my boots to my shoes, then looked over my list of errands and things to get done. I’ve got a couple stops to make on my way home. Routine stuff. “Normal.”

An ordinary beginning to a new day.

I look over my grocery list, hoping to avoid having to make several trips to the store, where one would do.

I breathe, exhale, and relax. It’s time to begin again, and I’ve got everything I need to enjoy a lovely day. What will I do with it? I sit with my thoughts a while, until the clock catches my attention.

I snarl quietly with cantankerous humor at the mindless “AI” (it isn’t) making suggestions regarding my grammar. Stupid thing can fuck right off. I’ve no interest in sounding “all same-y” as every other writer on the internet, so I’ll be using my own voice, thanks. lol That’s one very nice detail of being a human primates; I can choose the tools I wish to use.

I smile to myself, content with the morning thus far.

… It’s still time to begin again…

Tags , , , , , , , , , , ,
Categories Allegories, breathe, Free Will, gratitude, Healthy Living, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Perspective, Practices, Summer, The Art of Being

Taking a Step in a New Direction

July 28, 2024 //
0

I’m parked where I can see the ocean, smell the scents of the seashore, and hear the sound of the waves rolling in. I arrived shortly before sunrise, but well past daybreak. Dense gray clouds cover the sky and obscure the horizon. There will be no dramatic hues of orange nor charming delicate shades of pearly pink or luminous lavender today. It’s all gray skies as far as I can see into the distance in all directions. I’m okay with that, it’s still beautiful.

What’s holding you back? Is it externally imposed, or something of your own doing?

I sit with my thoughts awhile before tackling the steep trail down to the beach. I listen to the gulls and the waves. I breathe the fresh sea air and enjoy the soft breeze and the morning mist. I breathe, exhale, and relax, letting go of the accumulated tension and stress of caregiving, waiting, and worrying. I’m in no hurry to do anything at all. I’m just being here, now, in this pleasant moment, in this lovely place.

The temperature is quite a bit cooler here than in the valley to the east. I dressed with that in mind and I am comfortable in spite of the chill of the seaside at dawn. The air is mild and not actually cold, but definitely suited to the baggy shapeless sweater wrapping me in warmth. I sit contentedly sipping an iced coffee. It’s a couple hours yet before I will check in to my hotel room. I don’t care about that at all, sitting here watching the waves roll in. Sooner or later I suppose I’ll do something about breakfast, but for now I have everything I want; this quiet moment is enough.

I remove my shoes when I reach the beach, and walk a damp mile along the wet edge, where the sand is firm with only a little risk of wetting my feet. The damp sand is cold and it feels at first refreshing, and later, chilly. I don’t mind. I enjoy the way the sand yields to my footsteps. I sigh and smile as I walk. I have this stretch of beach to myself, at least for now. This,too, is enough. More than enough. I drink in the satisfying feeling of contentment and fulfillment. I walk the beach grateful for the moment, and the opportunity to rest and “recharge my batteries”.  I give silent thanks to my Traveling Partner, who is so steadfast in the support of my mental health and self-care, and to the Anxious Adventurer, whose presence in our life and home makes it so much easier to “step away” for a few days to get the downtime I need without continuing to carry the full measure of stress and concern for my injured partner while I am away. I am fortunate, and I am grateful.

… Gratitude feels really good…

Distracted by my thoughts, I stray too close to the incoming tide and soak my feet. I laugh out loud, but turn back the way I came and head back to the car. Dry socks feel luxurious and the warmth of socks and shoes is disproportionately pleasant after the cold walk back up the beach. I sit awhile with my thoughts, and write a bit. The lack of time pressure feels… amazing. I feel my shoulders relax. I feel a steady joyful calm creep over me.

Breathe. Exhale. Relax. It’s enough to be here, now. I sit with my thoughts awhile longer. There’s no hurry. I’m enjoying this. It’s enough. Later, I’ll begin again.

Breathe.
Tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,
Categories Allegories, breathe, Free Will, gratitude, Healthy Living, inspiration, Love, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, solo hiking, Summer, The Art of Being
« Older Entries
Newer Entries »