Archives for posts with tag: TBI

I’ve no good title today. No subject in mind. No moment that seems noteworthy with which to approach my writing, today. Still… There is this moment to write. I sit with it quietly for some extra moments, waiting for it to “speak to me”. I swallow the last bit of cold coffee from the cup I made for myself around 2 pm, forgetful that it was 2 pm, well after I generally stop drinking coffee for the day. I eat an orange, enjoying the scent of it, the sweetness, and that messy moment grinning like a little kid, when I realize I didn’t think to also grab a napkin or paper towel, or something. There is juice on my fingers and on my face, sticky and sweet. I am in pain. The cold weather, windy, icy rain, sleet, and just winter, wraps my apartment in whatever it takes to remind my body that I have arthritis. Still. Β Nothing new there. I endure. I breathe, and relax. At least in this moment, my pain is not calling the shots for me.

The work day is behind me. It started early, because it needed to, and I am done for the day – and for the week. The weekend stretches ahead of me, mostly unconsidered. I have no plans beyond what I am planning not to do. I’m planning not to do Facebook. I’m not doing the news. I’m not doing outrage. I’m not doing angry. I’m planning to gently take care of me, nurture my heart, rest my mind, enjoy some quality time with the woman in the mirror – and maybe I will see my Traveling Partner at some point. It won’t be tonight. The icy weather is foreboding to travelers. That’s okay. It’s a good day to take care of the woman in the mirror, instead. I am already eyeing my yoga mat with some enthusiasm, and thinking wistfully of my meditation cushion. I am looking forward to the gentle evening ahead.

It was an icy morning. My visitors seemed pleased to hang out a while.

It was an icy morning. My visitors seemed pleased to hang out a while.

I sit quietly in this still place. I haven’t put any music on yet today. There is a lovely fire crackling away in the fireplace, and the wind, the wind chime, the birds, and the geese have filled the day with another sort of music. I think about dinner… but… I continue to just be, here, in this moment. Quietly. Still. Content. I think to myself how very much I must have been needing this saturating moment of stillness, to dive into it with such abandon. Perhaps I shall sit quietly all evening? Content to gaze through the patio door into the winter beyond, feeling the warm of the fire… It would be time well-spent. It would be enough.

An entire flock of Canada geese stopped by.

An entire flock of Canada geese stopped by.

I smile, and feel strangely perplexed and muddled for a moment – when did I become this person? When did I develop “a softer side”? When did I learn to really care, and to really love? When did thingsΒ – material things – stop seeming so important, and when did I stop “keeping score” in the rat race? At some point, I know that I did all of those things. I made changes. Why is it that I don’t remember those changes as specific moments? Slow progress is funny that way – I don’t find it easy to see through the eyes of the woman I once was.

My patience pays off.

My patience pays off.

I breathe. Find myself enjoying this moment, here, just exactly as it is. It’s enough.

I woke this morning feeling calm and sure of myself. I often wake well ahead of the alarm, and wasn’t surprised I had this morning… then I actually looked at the clock, to turn off the alarm that wasn’t what woke me. Huh. It was half an hour later than the alarm would have gone off… I had “slept in”, on a work day, and lucked out by waking up in plenty of time not to rush to work. Fortuitous. I begin the day feeling less complacent, and well-prepared to check my assumptions before they teach me hard life lessons. πŸ™‚

I woke in pain, but it is manageable and an anticipated byproduct of the change to colder temperatures. I do my yoga and more or less mostly manage to disregard my pain. I go to make my coffee, but my preferred coffee is… out. I forgot to get more last night. Damn it. No matter – I make a cup of the coffee my Traveling Partner favors, instead. It’s quite good, but my senses easily recognize that it is different. It colors the morning with that hint of difference… so many of this morning’s details do.

Wind chime

The wind blows without regard to my preference, or my assumptions.

The wind chime on the patio is clanging away rather rudely. I know from this that it is a windy morning. The wind in the tree tops beyond the meadow makes a distance roaring sound that blends with the morning traffic, and the sound of the train even farther beyond the trees. I enjoy the moment precisely as it is, without reservations, and without diminishing it with all the many human dramas playing out across social media, news media, and my Facebook feed. I have not yet looked at any of that. I find the morning starts more pleasantly choosing to save that for later.

I write a bit more. Delete it. I repeat that experience two or three more times, then realize – at least for this morning – I really don’t have more to say, just now. The day starts well in spite of over-sleeping. I am letting it start well. The morning is pleasant in spite of being rather noisy, quite cold, and my coffee tasting not at all like I expect, sip after sip. I am choosing to allow the morning to be pleasant, because the differences in routine and expectation are not the sort that matter (to me)(this morning). It’s still a choice. I could make different ones. I am sufficiently pleased with these choices, here, now, this morning.

So much of my experience is choice. So often the difference between terrible and lovely is only that – the decision I make about the experience I will have. A choice. That’s not even about “positive thinking”, but I find it difficult to communicate how simply and authentically we can transform so many moments through our choices, and through a letting go of assumptions, and being in this moment, right here, now, uncluttered by if/then/maybe, and the narrative in our own heads.

I sip my coffee. I enjoy this moment. Right now, that’s enough. πŸ™‚

I had to remind myself last night, and again this morning. Last night, I hit that point in response to a “pics or it didn’t happen” reply to a comment I made, supporting inclusion and diversity, and being a welcoming human being. I laughed out loud when I read the troll’s demand – I mean, honestly, in all frankness, that isn’t actually how reality works. The lack of a photograph isn’t really a determining factor in whether something is or is not “real”, or whether it happened, or whether you experienced it, or whether that is your perspective. I took a step back. Happy to enjoy the moment of laughter, instead of taking the bait. I moved on with my evening.

images

This morning, again, I got sucked into Facebook, reacting to expressions of hate and frustrated by the weird skewed perspective some people have taken on. I endure only so many “what the fuck??” moments before I remind myself that one of the fundamentals of our very human consciousness is that we are easily able – and prone – to just making shit up that fits our world view and calling that “true”, without any particular attention to whether it really is true, or factually accurate, or even loosely based on something someone actually may have once experienced, ever, at all. It must be equally frustrating to be a person whose world view is constantly challenged, fought, disputed, denied, contradicted, or laughed at… Oh. Wait. That’s like, literally, all of us. Human primates. Damn we’re fancy. It’s not always useful and in our favor, but holy cow we can make some shit up, and then insist it is important.

The hate is hard, though. I’m saddened by the quantity of fear and hate in the world. It would be lovely to halt the tide of hate. I guess… one thing I can do, myself, is to choose not to hate. I’ll work on that. I’ll start by asking clarifying questions, instead of reacting based on my own assumptions. I’ll work on staying mindful that each of us likely thinks of ourselves as the good guy in our own internal narrative. I’ll treat myself, and others – even those with very different thinking – with consideration, empathy, compassion, and start interactions from the assumption that we are all trying to improve things, from our own perspective. Maybe I will learn something useful along the way. Hate is hard work to sustain, and not very productive. πŸ™‚

Still, and again. The very best practices work that way.

Still, and again. The very best practices work that way.

To be clear… I’m no less angry by what I see going on in the news. I’m no less concerned about fascism taking over America – that’s some scary shit, and it’s not okay – but blinding myself with reactivity and stress renders me one more agitated voice in a crowd, and could result in the sort of emotional fatigue that could quickly become learned helplessness. So. I breathe. I back up out of the comments. I think about what matters most, and how to be the woman I most want to be; this is my life. I take care of me, and do my best to take action in the world, in the ways I can – and I do it without disadvantaging anyone else. It’s a good place to start. It’s enough.

Thrown off balance and freaked out by what you are seeing in the news? I get it. Scary. Β Seriously, though, however hard “now” is, however scary and rocked to your core you feel in this moment, breathe. Just that – breathe. Stay with that until you begin to feel settled (don’t keep checking, as though watching water to boil, just breathe and let the process unfold). Be aware of your body. Take a moment, and just be. Struggling with it? Begin again.

Some moments are hard. Crazy hard. Chaos can be terrifying, and most particularly when it catches us by surprise. Breathe through it. Don’t fight it. Just breathe. Take a moment. Get the oxygen you need to live. Feel the tension in your body and start letting that go. You can. There are some verbs involved. (Notice that “breathe” is a verb.) This too shall pass. No kidding. Change is. (You faced change to get to this moment, here.)

A change of perspective can be really helpful.

A change of perspective can be really helpful.

It’s hard to turn away from the political mayhem, even briefly. Those of us who care deeply, and feel great compassion for others directly affected by the hate and xenophobia and greed of the incoming administration – as well as the sheer incompetence due to lack of any relevant experience – are frightened and frustrated – what do we do to make things right? What can we do to help? Β Others, driven less by compassion and more by fear, or hate, or greed, are likely also feeling disrupted and stressed out to see associates they didn’t understand would object, protest, or refuse to participate. suddenly rising up in organized protest, literally everywhere, and even calling people out for being racists, haters, bigots, and just basically completely vile, instead of quietly tolerating it. Families are torn apart by partisan bickering and refusal to communicate in a rational way. Whole industries are thrown off course by the weird hailstorm of executive orders spewing forth from a seemingly unhinged Washington. It’s understandably hard to look away… but… now and then, for sanity’s sake, you must. You’ve got to also take care of you. This isn’t going to be a short journey, and we need every decent human being to endure, and carry on… And you need you, too, so very much.

Embrace a peaceful moment. Breathe. Repeat.

Embrace a peaceful moment. Breathe. Repeat.

Take a minute and breathe. Have a coffee with a like-minded friend. Relax with a book, or a few moments of quiet. Watch the birds. Play with your kids. Go for a walk. Something that gives your heart a moment of ease, pleasure, and even joy. You need it to keep you going; we’ve got to pace ourselves for the long fight. It’s revolution, now, you see. Change is coming.

I’ll probably avoid saying much else about all of this. I’d like to focus my writing on more positive things – the practices that work, the day-to-day eye-opening moments that push me forward on life’s journey, things revealed, and baggage set by the wayside. I have already learned the lesson that when I focus on nothing but the pain, nothing but the challenges, nothing but the fears, my life becomes a painful, challenging, fearful place to endure my mortal time. I’ve grown beyond that, generally; it’s taken miles of walking, hours of practicing, and the slow incremental changes over time that result from doing my best moment to moment to be the person I most want to be. We become what we practice.

We become what we practice. Think about that. There’s nothing there that says “don’t be angry” – and there are things worth being angry about – but being angry, over time, without a break for good self-care and moments of joy, we become anger, and unable to experience our lives in its absence, unable to view content through any other lens. Be sure to take a break from anger, from outrage, from fear – there are other things to be. Don’t forget to be Love. ❀

He has his own agenda.

He has his own agenda.

This morning I woke feeling much better than yesterday, happily over being sick. A crow called to me from the tree top beyond the studio window with a stern reminder that the world beyond includes more moments that those being endlessly revisited, repeated, and recylced in the news. I linger over my coffee, bird-watching. I leave writing for later. Yoga, meditation, a lovely chat with my Traveling Partner, and the weekend’s housekeeping all seem more important, this morning, than the news; I’ve already read it once, you see. The rest is repetition, and there are healthier things to put on repeat. πŸ™‚

Today is a good day to be. Today is a good day to breathe. Today is a good day for verbs. Today is a good day to ask “how can I help most?” and do that thing. Be in this moment. Be who you are. It’s enough.

Today is not what I expected it to be. Yesterday either. They are, however, what they are, which is something I can count on. πŸ™‚

I woke to the alarm, and enjoying the luxury of another hour of sleep. I had meant to reset the alarm before I went to bed, and forgot. I was pleased that I remained sufficiently relaxed to actually return to sleep for that last luxurious deliciously restful hour. I enjoy my second coffee, lingering over a conversation with my Traveling Partner. I watch the sunrise blushing shades of orange, peach, and tangerine. I laugh when I notice my observation of the sunrise sounds a lot like… breakfast. I realize I’m hungry and make some oatmeal. Morning.

I put on my favorite playlist to dance through morning chores and find myself moving things around a bit, putting tracks at the end that are less enticing these days, taking a few off, adding a few new ones, bumping some recent earworms to the top of the list. There’s value in mixing things up a bit. Change and the surprise of the unexpected seem to do a lot for my general cognitive health, and similarly – although I love order – I find that “too much routine” can result in inflexible thinking, and crossness in the face of everyday chaos that needn’t be the cause of distress. So. I’m mixing things up a bit. πŸ˜€

Later I will handle some errands that are the reason I took the day off work. The day ends up over-committed, but I’m not experiencing that as stress today; if I need more time, there’s always another day. Well. Approximately always. I am mortal. Eventually the days run out. Today, more than anything, the goal is to stay on track, and take care of my longer terms needs with each task and moment of decision-making.

Make the day yours.

Make the day yours.

Today is a good day for good self-care. The world is what it is – the woman in the mirror still needs my care and attention, too. πŸ™‚