Archives for posts with tag: taking care of me

I got robbed last night. Feels odd to say it. Non-metaphorically speaking, my home was broken into,  things were taken. It was a new (for me) and fairly terrible experience. 

This morning’s post is written awkwardly, on my phone. The interface behaves differently. I’ve had little sleep.

The worst of it was in those moments of increasing awareness, as I arrived home, thoughts full of anticipation for the evening ahead. Looking back on it after less than four hours of sleep, it seemed much worse last night. This morning I feel fortunate they only took some electronics. They took my laptop. Other things matter less. It’s a lot to process… but I am okay. That matters most. So… now what? I mean… after filing the police report, and the insurance claim… after getting some sleep, after securing the premises… after the practical things are handled, and the tears have dried up… now what?

…I guess I begin again.

The alarm woke me. I wasn’t sure what that seriously irritating noise was, initially. I was in motion, uncoordinated and stumbling, before I was quite awake. I remind myself to grab my hiking staff before I leave for work; on the slick pavement I do well to have the additional support. Uncertain footing over rain-slick autumn leaves has been slowing me down.

Uncertainty has been slowing me down. Oh. Right. Yes, actually, it has.

On the other hand, feeling certain is not necessarily of value, on its own. If I embrace a bullshit idea, and bolster it with a feeling of certainty and conviction, my feelings don’t change the character or quality of the idea itself, and my feelings are not enough to make a bullshit idea a great idea, or to convert belief into fact. How I feel about something and the thing about which I have feelings are quite separate, and independent of each other.

a random picture from along the morning commute

a random picture from along the morning commute

I smile and sip my coffee. My thoughts move on.

This morning a steady rain falls. I open a window to listen to the rain. The rain stops. Yesterday that might have peeved me. I never did develop a clear understanding of what was on my mind yesterday, though. It seems to have passed at this point, like a rainstorm in the darkness; unseen, but still affecting me, until it finally passes by without revealing itself.

The rain-fresh air fills the apartment. My coffee tastes good. There are dishes yet to do, and some tidying up before I head to work. There is still time for it, and time to meditate, too. One morning among many… I wonder where this one leads?

 

 

 

My anxiety woke me during the night. No particular reason, as far as I could tell… perhaps my anxiety was concerned I’d forgotten it? No matter. I got up for a few minutes. “Checked for monsters.” Went back to bed. My sleep was restless. I woke feeling out of sorts.

"Anxiety"  10" x 14" - and she feels much bigger than that, generally.

“Anxiety” 10″ x 14″ – and she feels much bigger than that, generally.

I sip my coffee discontentedly mired in suspicion and unease. This isn’t about “reason”, and I don’t go looking for reasons. If I were to allow myself to yield to the temptation to “figure this out” in the early morning, before I’ve really quite woken up, before I finish my first coffee, I would be inviting the sort of deep down personal attack on myself that wells up from the dark corners, where the chaos and damage still lurks. It’s neither necessary nor helpful to “figure this out”; these are emotions, and I’ve just awakened from a night of troubled sleep…so… yeah. Nothing to figure out, really. I’m feeling.

This is a good morning to breathe, relax, make room to allow myself to feel my feelings without acting on them, and let them go without attachment to them.

My thoughts shift. I write some about emotion. I write about reason. I doubt the value in my words and delete all of it. I feel myself full of doubt. My nightmares, too, were full of doubt. Doubt and unease and insecurity. I breathe, relax, sip my coffee. It’s hard not to pick at those feelings, like tiny wounds. Experience suggests my wisest course is to make room for them, be open to what I can learn from them, and to maintain perspective – the broad deep perspective of 53 years that understands that this too will pass, and that emotions are more like street lights than news stories. Experience suggests letting the emotional content of my dreams color my day is a poor choice, and unnecessary – I commit to choosing differently. That used to sound like an impossible task, now I understand it as a practice. My results may vary.

I make some notes, on paper. I list the emotions and feelings quickly, without any deeper intention. I review the list, and next to each, write an emotion or feeling that amounts to a “conflict of interest” in the sense that the existing uncomfortable emotional experience can’t “compete” or continue to hold my attention were I to fill up on the other. Insecurity is the easy example, since its “opposite” experience is fairly easily identified – security. Feeling secure versus feeling insecure, feeling emotionally safe versus feeling uneasy… and having identified the preferred experience, I will cultivate that. No need to tear myself down for the emotional experience I’m having now, I will build something different, by choice. Small changes sometimes get big results.

Dismissing my feelings out of hand is ineffective; emotions tell me things about my experience, and how that’s working out for me, and although they are not a reliable source of information (because they lack precision and simple clarity, and because sometimes they are simply a byproduct of skewed biochemistry) they are my early warning system that emotional inclement weather may lay ahead. A night of nightmares and unease may mean I’ve got something on my mind that needs my attention, that I may be overlooking or avoiding. (And it may not.) Tonight will be soon enough for all that. It is an unfortunate truth of adulthood that sometimes work comes first. I sigh aloud, and sip my coffee.

My emotional life belongs to me. How I treat myself is a choice I make. The relationship I build with myself is singularly intimate, and colors every relationship I have with others. Being present, awake, and aware, in my experience with the woman in the mirror has its own unique challenges – and value. There are verbs involved.

Begin again.

Begin again.

Today is a good day for emotional self-sufficiency and continuing to cultivate emotional intelligence. Today is a good day to be present and engaged in this moment, here. Today is a good day to change the world, even if only in the tiniest way, in one single moment; every change matters.

Let’s not talk about the election. Please just be your best self today, when you go to the polls to make your choice (if you happen to be a voting citizen in the United States). We’ll see what comes of it tomorrow.

This morning I am not dealing with petty bullshit or drama, and that feels good. It can be a difficult choice to make, and reinforcing boundaries about something so commonplace as “drama” can be met with a lot of resistance if friends and loved ones are used to hijacking other lives with their poison. We’re each having our own experience. My idea of drama may be the circumstances you are mired in, needing emotional support. My lack of interest in drama is not expressed as “no one has time for your feelings”, day-to-day, it’s more about making a point not to continuously rehash the same moment of conversation or pain, past any point of gaining understanding or perspective. There comes a time to let it go, or make a choice to handle things quite differently. Turmoil sucks.

I recently had to set boundaries with a friend who made a point of angrily slamming my door during a stressful moment with her partner; that’s the drama I’m not having. Don’t slam my damned door. Non-negotiable. Door-slamming and yelling stress me out, and have no practical value whatsoever. Use your words. Setting the boundary was easy, facing her defensiveness and resistance to hearing that she’s violated a personal boundary of mine was unpleasant nonetheless. I expected an apology, and got an angry resentful reply instead. Rather than allow that to escalate, I let it go. I will continue to reinforce that boundary. If the undesirable behavior continues, I may choose not to have that friend back into my space. I like it to be quite calm and safe-feeling here.

I enjoyed a fun evening with my traveling partner last night, although somewhat unexpectedly. Only somewhat; the quantity of drama in his everyday experience in another relationship is so ludicrous, from my own perspective it hardly seems endurable – I know to expect the unexpected in my own experience, as a consequence. Last night we let all that go, even the stress and doubt and hurt feelings and anger, we let it all go and just enjoyed each other. The evenings are short. It’s a far better choice than becoming swamped in negative emotion, chaos, and bullshit during the limited precious time we have together. We talked about the future. We enjoyed the present. We got some sleep.

Embrace a peaceful moment. Breathe. Repeat.

Embrace a peaceful moment. Breathe. Repeat.

It’s a new day. Today is a good one to begin again. Today is a good day to right our wrongs. Today is a good day to consider what we are doing (about, with, and to each other) with more care than we did yesterday. Today is a good day to have a serene heart and to choose love. Today is a good day for choices that change the world.

This morning I woke groggy, very groggy, to the sound of a train, or perhaps two passing each other, blasting the horn(s) for what seemed a rather long time. It went on and on, from some distance before the stretch of track nearest where I live, and for some distance farther along. I’m not sure what required such aggressive use of the horn in the wee hours (3:22 am). I was not able to go back to sleep.

Up early… and nothing to say. My brain still isn’t fully awake, more than an hour later. The day after daylight savings time begins or ends – and a day or two more – are hard. The timing on my medications is all wrong, and my sleep/wake cycle is now not even close to when my clock says it should be. Twice a year the pointless disruption aggravates me. I’m not bitching, just making the observation.

I sip my coffee. Think my thoughts. This morning seems a good one to meditate, and to chill. Tomorrow… yeah. It seems fairly foolish to also put the end of daylight savings time so close to an emotionally volatile (for so many people) election. We often put ourselves (and each other) at a disadvantage when it comes to our emotional experience by behaving as though emotions can be simply disregarded in our planning and our actions. Our choices might be different as individuals (and as a culture) if we placed value on emotional intelligence, and sought balance between emotion and reason as a necessary thing. Still not bitching – it’s an observation.

A basic morning.

A basic morning.

Today is a good morning to sip my coffee and be kind to myself; it may be hours before I feel awake. Today is a good morning to be aware of the stress the upcoming election is causing so many people, and to let go of that stress, myself. Today is good one to walk my own path, find my own way, and make the choices that best support my needs over time. Today is a good day, too, for a second cup of coffee. 😀