Archives for posts with tag: TBI

Sometimes Laughter…

October 20, 2016 //

…Sometimes tears. Sometimes life is a party… sometimes it’s a sadder song. Today I practice because practicing is what it takes, sometimes more than others.

Sad songs ring truer tonight, and not for any obvious reason worthy of such moody bullshit. I sigh aloud in the quiet of my studio. No music playing; I have been yearning for quiet, and recognizing that the stillness I seek has to come from within, I continue to yearn, restless and weary, distracted and discontent. It’s a place. A state of being. One version of now, now and then. In every practical way I am okay right now, even mired in this feeling, stranded just on the edge of tears that have not yet begun to fall.

…What? All I said was “cry me a river”!

It’s a nothing much type of emotional trap; I feel terribly lonely, but having been thrown back into a lifestyle in which I spend 50+ hours a week surrounded by and interacting with multitudes of other human beings very much live and real-time, I am also feeling desperate to be entirely alone for at least a little while. I miss my traveling partner in a wholly discontented and irritable way, but find myself wondering with what’s left of a meager supply of wry amusement whether I would even be able to enjoy him if he were here right now. I’m irked with the whole mess, and feeling frustrated with myself, with circumstances, with life rather generally – which is entirely so much complete bullshit; I have what I need in life, and a good measure more. I’ve got very little to bitch about, frankly. Small shit… like emotional splinters; I can feel the irritation, the pain, the annoyance – but I can’t quite get a hold of the real issue to put it to rest. Rest. Maybe that’s the thing. I haven’t been sleeping well…

It’s always a good time to begin again.

Fuck the bitching. I’m constantly on about choices and practices and incremental change over time. Some tiny bitter corner within mutters “don’t hold your breath…” I’m in no mood for back chat from the woman in the mirror, tonight. I put on some music, apropos and gentle, and start down my list of crisis management practices – before I find myself in crisis.

[passage of time… no handy metaphor comes to mind]

It’s much later. Healthy calories, a tall drink of water, a luxurious shower with a favorite fragrance, warm dry clothes on a cold damp day, some yoga, meditation, a few minutes gathering my thoughts without any other agenda besides me, now, here. Stillness. A lack of distraction. A setting-aside of burdens – however small, however large, however urgent-seeming. Life moves so much faster now that I am back in the workforce. There is a lot about that which doesn’t suit me at all. It is, as they say, what it is. Making time for me is non-negotiable – when I don’t do it, I will pay a price.

I take some time to (be aware of and) respect my own feelings – that’s harder that it seems it could be, sometimes – tonight, for example. I’m frustrated by how easily “other people” (any other people) can change my experience “on a whim” – lack of planning, tantrums, coercive emotional bullshit, changes of plans… Circumstances or will; it doesn’t matter whether the intention is deliberate or even anything to do with me at all, sometimes the outcome affects me without regard to anyone’s specific will or intention. (…And now you know why “consideration” is one of my Big 5 relationship values; because without consideration the damage we do to those around us is frequent, unmanaged, unmitigated, unnoticed, and likely far more significant than we know.)

Closing in on my core needs with real awareness isn’t a comfortable process; some of what I need presents logistical challenges, emotional challenges, and definitely a big scary unsteady pile of verbs. I took time to give further thought to the cornerstones of this life I build for me: mindfulness, perspective, and sufficiency. I’m not sure I’m any closer. It’ll be a lifelong journey. Feeling the feeling of disappointed frustration, tears well up, my chest gets tight, and I feel stiff, as if resisting my feelings – or myself. I breathe deeply. Relax. Several more times. I pace around the apartment a bit, warm coffee mug in my hands. Thinking. Thoughts. The restlessness grows, the mindfulness pales. Shit. Begin again, I think.

Well, sure. This.

Tonight is hard. Some nights are. My accounting of the facts of the day and evening indicate there is nothing really wrong, at all. I am okay right now. Life is pretty good right now. I’m not even in much pain right now. Last night I got the rest I needed. What is there to bitch about? “I feel trapped and pushed around” a tired voice in my thoughts calls back softly, and the tears come. Real or not, valid or not, support by facts or not… feelings. I am alone and safe here, and it is okay to admit that I feel. Sometimes the feelings are not the pleasant lovely ones. This too will pass. Pretty much everything pretty much nearly always does. 🙂

Eventually my tears stop falling. I sigh, and take note of my breathing. I nudge myself back onto healthy practices, and good self-care. I have more awareness of self, and a sense of the “real issues”; my autonomy and sense of emotional safety is feeling threatened by OPD (Other People’s Drama) in relationships that are not my own, and also a little overwhelmed by the amount of time I am having to spend “on my best behavior”, surrounded by people who are relative strangers in the work environment, and on top of that working purposefully to get back on track with a major life goal – a place of my own. (Really my own. Mine. As in – a homeowner. I want the safety and security of having my own place, no landlord, no tenant restrictions, no limitations on design, form, and function – artistically, aesthetically, and practically, actually my own home. A place to retire. To live. To thrive on my own terms.) It’s a lot to juggle to “be there” for people who are dear to me, also take care of myself, also go to work every day and do the things… So much going on. It’s daunting, and I guess I’m not surprised that I’ve hit a wall. I’m very human.

Today is a good day to slow down, listen deeply to my own voice, and take care of me. Today is a good day to love – and make sure some of that love is for the woman in the mirror. Today is a good day to be purposeful about the future, without letting it pull me away from this moment, now. There are verbs involved – and clearly, my results vary. 🙂 Tomorrow will be a good day to begin again.

Tags are you going my way?, begin again, being and becoming, Bouncin Back, breathe, ch-ch-changes, cry me a river, dirt off your shoulders, emotional self sufficiency, good self-care, juggling all the balls, listening deeply, meditation, mindfulness for beginners, mindfulness matters, move bitch, my home my rules my way, perspective, practicing the practices, ptsd, slow down, sufficiency, take a moment to enjoy the experience, taking care of me, TBI, The Art of Being, The Big 5, there are verbs involved, walking my own path, what matters most?

Categories Anxiety, autumn, Brain Injury, Free Will, grief, Healthy Living, Love, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, more than a little bit of bitching, pain, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Relationships, Sleepless Nights, The Art of Being, The Big 5, Words

How Far Does This Road Go?

October 19, 2016 //

It’s an odd sort of morning following a somewhat peculiar evening. It was a pleasant evening, and it is a pleasant morning. It would be easy to lose sight of how pleasant it is to focus on the oddity. The pleasantness, for me, is more important.

Evenings are quite short these days, a common experience for people who work and commute some distance. I arrived home about an hour earlier than usual, yesterday, which is enough time to make a difference. I enjoyed a bite of dinner, and meditation, and was headed to the shower when my traveling partner arrived. A whirlwind of greetings, moments, departures, and arrivals later, and the apartment was full of people, laughing, talking – it’s fairly easy to find a party breaking out at my place when both my traveling partner and I are at home; we two enjoy both company and solitude, and if we’re already together (and thus not alone) it’s a handy time to get other friends together, too. Parties happen. 🙂

I sip my coffee and for some moments think about far away friends, and long for their company, too. Magical thinking could intervene here, and leave me feeling lonely, or annoyed, or even inappropriately “abandoned”, or sad over what is not. It’s a choice, and I choose not to head down that spiral. I cherish my far away friends over my coffee, smiling with grateful delight at technology like Facebook, that so easily keeps us all in touch over the years. Any perceived distance melts away like morning fog as the sun rises, when we get together again. In the meantime, there are pictures of life, of new babies, of dance recitals, of fun and adventure, of love – all shared with affection, preserving a long-distance connection.

“Long Distance Connection” 18″ x 24″ acrylic on canvas w/glow, 2010

Last night I crashed pretty early, and the party moved next door out of respect for my working hours and early mornings. I actually slept well and deeply. I woke with the alarm, feeling comfortable in my body, content with the woman in the mirror, and ready to start a new day. No noteworthy pain – so I make a point of noticing the lack, and making that, itself, noteworthy by being aware of how good I feel right now, savoring it, lingering over it, enjoying it without any dismissive internal commentary. I take time to be okay with being okay. Being miserable can become a very bad habit; we become what we practice.

I sit quietly, sipping my coffee, living my life gently, feeling contented. It’s a lovely start to a work day. I think about the years and years I didn’t start my days this way, and then the years that I tried… and tried… and tried… and often found some delicate fragile moment of contentment or delight would skid unexpectedly sideways off life’s highway, leaving me stranded in tears by the side of the road, unaware that I only needed to dust my self off and walk on. There are so many choices, and so much of my experience is in my own hands. It can be daunting. Then, too, there’s all that “positivity” stuff out there, and “faking it until you make it” encouragement; those things didn’t work for me at all. Authenticity is demanding, and some of the moments of a life well-lived are… challenging? Unpleasant. Some of life’s moments are frankly awful. Still… I couldn’t force positivity down my own throat, and no amount of repeating scripted affirmations or pasting fake smiles on my face got me anywhere. I gave up, and in giving up felt even worse about myself and my circumstances.

I tend to be a very positive person these days – but I didn’t start here, and getting here wasn’t the goal. I started with taking better care of myself (physically and emotionally), and took up practices that supported my wellness, and nudged me gently towards my long-term goals by improving my self-care, my awareness, and my willful actions, over time. I suppose someone could respond that they feel like a screaming spoiled toddler, and if they are (mis)behaving it is merely an expression of their authentic self… I guess that’s where having a conscious awareness of my values is helpful for me; I don’t think to justify bad behavior on the basis of “authenticity” – because that isn’t the woman I most want to be. I don’t find myself having to “fake it” – I do find that choices are necessary, and there are verbs involved. I begin again, regularly. When I fuck up and hurt someone, I apologize sincerely and without reservations or excuses.

It’s been a long while since I had some terrible meltdown. I take a moment to appreciate that – because, honestly, realistically, and being so very human? This too shall pass. 🙂 It’s likely that sometime in my future I will be frustrated, or angry, or childishly disappointed, and I will have to deal with it appropriately. I may hurt someone’s feelings and have to apologize. I’ll be wrong about some things. I’ll fail at some others in spite of trying. I may kick myself while I’m down, or revert to a bad habit unexpectedly. Still… we become what we practice. I’ll begin again. Over time, in small sometimes hardly noticeable increments, change will occur.

We do become what we practice. I stopped practicing having relentless temper tantrums and yielding to primitive frustrated rage – but not by “quitting”; I began practicing something different. That’s my own version of “positivity”. More a doing than an undoing. For me, it started with the most basic mindfulness practices, a few minutes each day for myself that I could really count on, and the will to begin again day after day, as if my life depended on it. (From my perspective, it very much did.) My reading list is built on the resources that got me here, now. I can share titles of books forever, and perhaps you even read them – but without the verbs, the practicing of practices, and the will to begin again, they’re only books filled with mere words. Just saying.

My coffee has gone cold. It’s almost time to head to the office. I’m still smiling. Life feels different than it did three years ago, in a number of very good ways. We become what we practice. My results vary – but I can begin again, often. Today is a good day to practice. Who will you choose to become? 🙂

Tags art and the artist, be the change, begin again, choose wisely, connections, contentment is the vaccine for OPD, emotional self sufficiency, interactions, meditation, mindful living, mindful loving, mindfulness, mindfulness for beginners, mindfulness matters, most effective treatment known for OPD, p.s. I love you, perspective, practicing the practices, ptsd, relationships, sufficiency, taking care of me, TBI, The Art of Being, there are verbs involved, we're all in this together, what matters most?

Categories Art, art and the artist, Brain Injury, Free Will, Healthy Living, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Relationships, The Art of Being

Slowing Things Down

October 17, 2016 //

I slept wonderfully well over the weekend, but my sleep last night was more typical of what I’ve generally be experiencing lately; interrupted, and less than ideal quality. I don’t beat myself up about it these days (that just adds anxiety and stress to already limited sleep).

Last night when I woke, I struggled to return to sleep because my heart was racing and I felt startled and breathless. I tossed and turned a bit, worked on managing my breathing and patiently waiting it out while my heart-rate slowed to a more normal beat. I don’t know what woke me. I didn’t recall any nightmares, but the physical experience was as if I’d woken from one. If I’d been more awake when I woke, I’d have understood the wiser choice might be to simply get up for a few minutes of meditation, and to experience and savor the quiet in the wee hours, which I find very soothing. I didn’t do that. Eventually I still returned to sleep.

A basic morning.

I woke again, earlier than the alarm, by quite a bit (an hour) but woke feeling fully awake; sleep at that point is a futile endeavor. I got up, did some yoga, had a shower, meditated, made coffee, all the things I associate with morning. I think ahead to a dinner date with my traveling partner, and shared friends; there won’t be time after work for housekeeping. I look around at a handful of chores I’d like to take care of before I leave for work. It feels comfortably satisfying to recognize both the need, and the opportunity, and to have a plan.

From a practical perspective, this is an ordinary enough Monday without anything remarkable ahead of me on the calendar. The holiday seasons creeps closer, but it’s on the other side of Halloween, which is still two weeks away. “Nothing to see here.” I close my calendar, my email, Facebook… the morning is mine to enjoy as I will, every moment entirely mine. Even my hand-held device is no temptation; it is busy with some upgrade or another, and exists set aside until later, when I leave for work.

I rely on my senses for information about the weather, listening to the bluster of the wind whipping distant trees about and casting multitudes of leaves into the air, to settle in drifts along the sidewalk. The rain spatters the windows, and rings melodically on the chimney and vent covers. I smile, remind myself to wear wet weather gear, taking a moment to also appreciate having made time to replace the worn and raggedy small cross-body bag I’d been carrying for three years that finally lost the last bit of utility in the rain and wind on the way home Friday. It was no longer anything resembling water-proof, as it was, and Friday’s fierce winds ripped the body of the bag free of any attachment to its strap, clips and seams breaking free, tearing loose, scattering contents to the wet pavement ahead of me. I had even laughed it off in the moment, more engaged with the exhilarating sensations of the wind in the moment.

I could have continued straight home on my tired feet Friday evening, and didn’t actually expect to find a suitable replacement for a bag I’d loved for so long; I used the need as an excuse to take a few minutes out of the rain, though, and a reason to take a less crowded train. It was happenstance that resulted in finding just the right bag at just the right price as I walked past a shop window for a retailer I didn’t intend to visit. Moments are sometimes a lovely intersection of choice and chance. Over the weekend, patiently and with great delight, I updated my “everyday carry” to suit the new bag, the new job, the changing season. A process of bringing order to chaos. Today the new bag gets its first day out. It’s a small thing, nonetheless I am smiling and enjoying the moment. Why not? It’s a lovely one. 🙂

Mondays have a bad reputation… This one seems quite nice so far, rain and all. I think I’ll take some time to enjoy that, this morning, before heading into the rain, to the office, to begin again. 🙂

Tags be the change, begin again, being and becoming, breathe, choose wisely, emotional self sufficiency, meditation, mindful living, mindfulness, Monday Monday, perspective, practicing the practices, ptsd, sufficiency, taking care of me, TBI, The Art of Being, The Big 5, there are verbs involved, walking my own path, what matters most?

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

When Did That Happen?

October 15, 2016 //

This morning is Saturday. I woke to the alarm. I’ve got a seminar all weekend. This is a treat for me on several levels: it is taught by a neuroscientist whose work has been important for me over the past almost 3 years, it is on the topic of positive neuroplasticity, I enrolled because I wanted to myself, it has been planned for many weeks, and learning feels amazing. 3 entire days of education – for me! Well… my original plan had been to attend all three days of live stream, and when I returned to the workforce I had planned (and requested) the day off… but… turns out I actually really enjoy my job, so day 3 (which is a Monday) I’ll catch up with on the replay. I don’t want to miss Monday in the office.

Raindrops on roses; I make time for thoughts of love.

…When did I become this person? When did words like “committed”, “thoughtful”, “compassionate”, “positive”, and “dedicated” become part of who I am? When did I become comfortable seeing myself this way? Using these words? I mean, over time, sure, change happens…and choosing to practice new practices, embrace new ideas, and walk on from what doesn’t work is sure to lead to change (and growth too) … but… when did I become the woman facing me in the mirror today? I feel differently about her than I felt about her in years past. I smile when I think so, because aside from understanding her a bit more, and practicing very different practices from a practical perspective… I still feel her presence solidly as “me”, without any particular sense of some sort of “growth and development timeline”. 🙂

I think about the “on-boarding process” in the context of professional life; our personal lives are much messier, less organized, but I suspect it is more a matter of not writing it all down with hyperlinks, in bite-sized pieces, that can be copied over and over again and shared with each new human being, more than it is that no process exists. It strikes me now what a wonderful thing it is that life doesn’t really work that way; no handy rule book, no map, no Sherpa – not really, though over a lifetime haven’t I had many guides? Strangers, friends, lovers, family, teachers, casual passers-by, great books… hell, even the moments themselves and the metaphors I so delight in, end up being part of this whole being and becoming process.

Practices matter. Choices matter. Words, too, our words matter. How we present ourselves, and the assumptions we make, matter. How we treat ourselves matters. How life feels and how we treat others, builds on all of that. 🙂

Letting the rain fall without fretting about it.

It’s a rainy day. A good day to enjoy the weather from the other side of window glass. A good day for a third coffee. A good day to study, to learn, to write. A good day for casual grammar, and a positive outlook. A good day for art, for science, for love. A good day to let the rain fall. Well… it’s a good day for all those things for me; we are each having our own experience.

This weekend I will study. I will be a student. I will see the world through a beginner’s eyes. I hope to learn more about what matters most. Then… I will practice. 🙂

Tags are you going my way?, be the change, be the student, begin again, being and becoming, educational opportunity, emotional self sufficiency, I am my own cartographer, life's curriculum, listening deeply, meditation, mindfulness, mindfulness for beginners, practicing the practices, ptsd, self-study, sufficiency, taking time for me, TBI, The Art of Being, the map is not the world, there are verbs involved, what matters most?

Categories Brain Injury, Free Will, Healthy Living, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Relationships, The Art of Being, Words

The Source of My Discomfort

October 11, 2016 //

This morning I woke too early, with a headache, and feeling uncomfortable and irritated. It’s a practical thing; I was awakened by the not-distant-enough whine of an idling freight train. It happens now and then. It is both intensely unpleasant, and utterly out of my control. It is also not a sound I sleep through easily… so… up at 3 am.

It’s almost 5 now. Though the whine persists, my anger and annoyance dissipated with practice(s): yoga, meditation (with ear plugs in, honestly), some quite housekeeping, a hot shower… and now, I hear the engine beginning to accelerate, slowly, and pull away. Finally. Culturally, and this is my opinion, we put (and allow) far too much emphasis on industry at the expense of quality of life. Noise pollution is a symptom. I wonder how many other people were wakened by the whine of the train this morning, maybe even not aware of what woke them, or why they woke with a headache this morning. How many bad moods in how many workplaces will it generate? I’m still a little cross about the noise; it’s hard enough to sleep well without that added to the mix.

A change of perspective is needed.

I take a deep breath, and another, and have a sip of my coffee. I think about putting down roots. I think about my traveling partner. I think about the seasons, and upcoming holidays. For a moment, I even think about work. I let my thoughts pass through my consciousness without commentary or criticism; they are only thoughts. I have another sip of my coffee. I think about how fortunate I am, generally, and delight myself as some recent emotional highlights, beautiful memories, surface, are savored, and make way for the next recollection.

Simple moments of calm joy have value, too.

It was once a challenging practice to pause to appreciate, and to linger over, pleasant memories. Now it is a commonplace thing that I take time to enjoy regularly, and often find myself enjoying many delightful moments quite fully, in the moment themselves, without reservation or worry. A worthy practice, built over time, has become part of who I am. Although that was one desired outcome, it wasn’t initially something I felt I could count on. Incremental change over time is a thing; we become what we practice.

Where does your path lead?

We become what we practice. Think that over for a moment… We become what we practice. Similarly, we tend to embrace as true just about anything we hear repeated a lot. So… if we hear and read hate, a lot, and we practice being hateful and angry, a lot… who do we become? Hateful angry people? Seems likely. Just saying; we can choose differently, and practice other things. It is literally that easy (and also that challenging).

What are you practicing? In your relationships – how do you treat your loved ones? Those behaviors are practiced. Out in the world, how do you treat others? More practiced behavior. When you interact through media, what communication habits are you practicing? When you filter events through your personalized world-view, more practiced behavior (and thinking) comes into play. What are you practicing? What settings do you tolerate in your ‘auto pilot’? Do you snap at people in the morning? Are you quick to anger? Prone to making assumptions? Attached to outcomes? Defensive or resentful? Dismissive, mocking, hurtful or mean? There isn’t much about how we behave (and how we think) that doesn’t at some point stem from things we practice, and in many cases practice quite willfully… It seems to me, this opens the door to a profound opportunity; we can choose differently, practice other things, become the person we most want to be. This isn’t new thinking for me; I think about it a lot.

We become what we practice. We can change by choosing our practices differently.

I look back on the woman in the mirror with a certain amount of internal discomfort; although she has changed a lot over the years, we are one, and I still have to own some very unpleasant shit that I have said, and done. That’s part of the journey, too, sorting out the bullshit, recognizing and being accountable for poor decision-making, bad behavior, mistreating people, and making amends where I am able to do so… and where I can’t “make it right” in any practical way, making a sincere apology, remorseful, contrite, and honest about the damage done, and going forward practicing better practices.

Gracious sincere apology for wronging another is one of the most difficult practices, requiring a heightened level of awareness of another’s suffering, and compassion set to maximum. The more I grow as a human being, and the more I become the woman I most want to be, the more I am also aware of how human I am, and how much I have hurt others. Uncomfortable indeed, and certainly it sometimes warrants a sincere apology.

Here’s another day, and another journey. Today is a good day to treat myself, and others, truly well. Today is a good day to be considerate, and a good day to listen deeply. Today is a good day to be kind, compassionate, and gracious. If something goes sideways, and I miss the mark on any of those things, it’s also a good day to apologize and put things right.

Tags be the change, begin again, being and becoming, choose wisely, emotional self sufficiency, incremental change over time, listening deeply, meditation, mindful living, mindfulness for beginners, mindfulness matters, perspective, practicing the practices, ptsd, taking care of me, TBI, The Art of Being, The Big 5, there are verbs involved, we become what we practice, what are you practicing?, what matters most?, what will you do about it?

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

Sometimes Laughter…

Share this:

How Far Does This Road Go?

Share this:

Slowing Things Down

Share this:

When Did That Happen?

Share this:

The Source of My Discomfort

Share this:

Archives