Archives for posts with tag: TBI

Yesterday (truthfully, most days) I was early everywhere I needed to be. This was both practical and possible because I had arranged with my traveling partner to borrow his car for the day. Handy. I arrived on the east side of town about an hour before my appointment time, got a coffee from a nearby boutique cafe with a working class theme – one I’d never been to before, and don’t expect will still be there the next time I am in that neighborhood.  Making a small business thrive is hard enough when it is any sort besides a cafe, in a city where cafes are on literally every corner – and a third of them are Starbucks. It’s a tough business. The coffee was good – lavender infused iced coffee with whipped cream – and a nice treat.

Even buying a cup of coffee, I had nearly an hour before my appointment. I had once lived in this neighborhood, and a favorite small park was right down the street from my appointment. Walking those lovely paths in the quite of early morning, uncrowded, undisturbed, sounded like a lovely accompaniment to my coffee. I hadn’t been to this particular park in quite a lot of years, although I’d only left the neighborhood some 5 years ago; I had at some point gained so much weight on the drugs the VA was giving me that walking the distance to the park (less than a mile) was too hard for me. I figure the last time I walked the paths of this lovely park was sometime in… 2004? Or…possibly I’ve simply forgotten other visits.

A small park, but no shortage of grandeur.

A small park, but no shortage of grandeur. The entry way has a big view.

The Crystal Springs Rhododendron Garden has history. It is a common visitor destination, particularly on Mother’s Day – so of course, I didn’t make a practice of going then. In fact, my most common time to visit this park was by moonlight – sneaking over or under the fence to get into the park after dark. In the summer it was especially nice – it felt very safe, and the air less stifling than in my tiny second floor apartment with no a/c, and the windows placed such that breezes just didn’t make it into the hot still rooms. I would often get into the park, and pull off my confining summer dress and sandals and stroll the well-maintained paths quite naked by moonlight. Those were some of the loveliest moments ever. It struck me strangely yesterday that it had been so long since I even held the recollection of these treasured moments in my consciousness…why had I let them go?

Lacking the time to explore at greater length, I paused frequently to breath the fresh air, and listen to the sounds of the trees and birds and breezes all around me.

Lacking the time to explore at greater length, I paused frequently to breathe the fresh air, and listen to the sounds of the trees and birds and breezes all around me.

The dogwoods are still flowering - they remind me of my childhood home.

The dogwoods are still flowering – they remind me of my childhood home.

I step to an edge to experience the dizzying view to the water below, from a path high above the creek.

I step to an edge to experience the dizzying view to the water below, from a path high above the creek.

I sit and meditate for a time, in a favorite spot. On a moonlit night, the silvery moonlight fills this place, and the only sound is the waterfall.

I sit and meditate for a time, in a favorite spot. On a moonlit night, the silvery moonlight fills this place, and the only sound is the waterfall.

There are little waterfalls here and there all through the park.

There are little waterfalls here and there all through the park.

This is my favorite among the waterfalls.

This is my favorite among the waterfalls. I linger awhile.

There are no rhododendrons or azaleas blooming this time of year, but there is no shortage of flowers.

There are no rhododendrons or azaleas blooming this time of year, but there is no shortage of flowers.

And there is no shortage of picturesque views.

And there is no shortage of picturesque views.

It has rained, and everything is covered with tiny drops of water, and the air smells fresh.

It has rained, and everything is covered with tiny drops of water, and the air smells fresh.

It is a lovely place to spend an hour on a Wednesday morning.

It is a lovely place to spend an hour on a Wednesday morning.

The paths follow the banks of creek, stream, and lake; eventually I am n noticed by the ducks.

The paths follow the banks of creek, stream, and lake; eventually I am n noticed by the ducks.

The ducks here are rather tame, and unharassed; they come seeking treats.

The ducks here are rather tame, and unharassed; they come seeking treats.

They invite their friends.

They invite their friends.

There are lovely moments for perspective...

There are lovely moments for perspective…

...from one point of view or another.

…from one point of view or another.

And still more flowers.

And still more flowers.

At some point they boarded up one favored way into the park at night... it would not longer be so easy to stroll here in the moonlight.

At some point they boarded up one favored way into the park at night… it would not longer be so easy to stroll here in the moonlight.

It is a lovely place...but eventually my path takes me to the exit, and onward with the day.

It is a lovely place…but eventually my path takes me to the exit, and onward with the day.

It can be so easy to look back on years of hardship and struggling, and overlook the wonders, the delights, the precious moments that I did enjoy – they are locked in this rather poorly maintained file system I call my memory. There are some lovely moments tangled up in here, sometimes lost, sometimes found. I enjoyed visiting this one – it is precious to me. There are few recollections of life well-lived that beat walking naked in the moonlight on hot summer nights along well-maintained paths among the trees and flowers, feeling the breezes, catching the delightful scents of flowers on the breeze… fearless, relaxed, and if not ‘happy’ – at least happy enough to enjoy living that moment. It is too easy to overlook the good moments mixed in with the difficult times; I cherish the unexpected opportunity to reset my thinking on that era of my life so simply, and so delightfully. It wasn’t all bad – there was a lot of fun, plenty of good times, and some lovely memories were made. Isn’t that what so often traps people in a poorly chosen situation; it isn’t all bad….? We hang on to what works, what feels good, what is ‘good enough’ and forget to take care of ourselves with greater care than settling for what we’ve got, even though we’re merely surviving it. Still…once I take the steps to make better decisions, to take care of me, to live well and to thrive – isn’t it also important to cherish what worked, in spite of what didn’t? 🙂

Today is a good day to appreciate life’s joys and delights; they are rare enough as it is, and I don’t serve myself well to overlook them because they were part of a challenging time in my life. Today is a good day to smile at the pleasures offered by happenstance – and to take the opportunity to enjoy myself that is offered. Today is a good day for perspective, and to be mindful that “now” is the moment I am in, always, but there have been others that have been worth savoring in life, and it is never too late to enjoy a memory. 🙂

My coffee this morning is, perhaps, a bit of both – strong, and bitter. I can’t actually be sure…I don’t taste ‘bitter’ with any particular acuity, myself.  My own vantage point is that the coffee ‘tastes different’ in some hard to place way. It could be that it is simply a stronger cup of coffee than usual…

Bitter is not one of the flavors of Love.

Bitter is not one of the flavors of Love.

Strong versus bitter is something to consider on another level, isn’t it? The old adage that what doesn’t kill us makes us stronger says nothing about what may become of our welcoming innocence along the way. Isn’t ‘bitter’ one opposite of innocent? The difficulty is that bitterness doesn’t typically serve me well as an individual seeking growth and wellness – it gets in the way. It is by far preferable, I find, to allow experience to develop over time in a gentler way, with a kinder (to myself and the world) outcome: strength. I still have a lot to learn about what develops strength versus what fosters bitterness…even with making coffee. 🙂

I was once far more cynical than I am now. More damaged. More wounded. More bitter. Experience had beaten me down, and torn my heart and my spirit to shreds leaving an emotional wasteland behind, and lacking any greater understanding that the journey could take me another direction if I chose my steps with care, I sort of trudged along…consumed by bitterness, ancient pain, and rage. That was a really long time ago. The first handful of steps in a different direction took so very many years…and the last handful of years have seen me take so very many steps in a better direction. The bitterness – the small bits that linger – are often simply a reaction from the damaged past to some “See? This shit, again??” moment within, before my brain can catch up with my emotions and remind me how far I have come, and that we are each having our own experience.  As emotions go, bitterness is every bit as fabricated as the rest, and just as illusory. The hurts in life hurt – they do – but the bitterness? I can choose differently. I can choose to raise my voice, use my words, and love the woman in the mirror by showing her the same respect, consideration, compassion, and openness I would show anyone else – and the reciprocity I need? That comes from using my words – answering circumstances with gentle reason, with awareness, with observation and clarity, instead of reacting with bitterness. Words may not change the circumstances – but I will feel heard. It takes practice to speak with tenderness, and vulnerability, about the things that set off a feeling of bitterness. It takes more practice to do so without letting hurt and anger become louder than the words – very few people, however much they love someone, can really ‘hear through the anger’ – we hear the anger itself, and earnestly wanting to be heard, I find value in learning to take a softer approach.

It’s a lovely  morning. A gentle, quiet morning that begins with a strong coffee, and an appointment, and will end with – no kidding – a baseball game! How peculiar? How delightful! How very different from the ordinary routine of the busy work week? I have never been to a baseball game. 🙂

Dinner last night with my traveling partner was quite relaxed and wonderful. I dropped him off at his place, still smiling, and headed for home – by way of rush hour traffic. It’s no wonder we spend so little time together on workday evenings – the traffic is nasty, and it takes 40 minutes to get from his place to mine! (It’s only 11 miles… 40 minutes seems somewhat excessive.) I can’t comfortably invite him to dinner much of the time, knowing that;  just the thought of the traffic in the evenings robs the idea of any fun. Why would I put him through that on purpose? It doesn’t sound very loving. lol  By the time I got home I was feeling on the edge of tears, and a hint of bitterness was creeping in. Rather than allow that to progress further, I reached for my handy self-care toolkit.

  • I checked my calendar – yep, due for my HRT; bitterness and other emotions on the darker end of the spectrum are often associate with fluctuating hormones. I take my hormones. This detail is not a safe one to ‘miss’ on – the consequences for my emotional experience can be pretty ugly.
  • I acknowledged how much I really just miss my traveling partner; this is an emotion that coexists with my day-to-day joy and comfort with living alone. Recognizing I have these feelings, I invite him to do something together this weekend (which both comforts me and gives me something to look forward to).
  • I take a shower and wash off the stress of the commute home through traffic; I rarely drive in rush hour traffic [or at all], and the scent of stress clinging to me could potentially continue to affect my mood. Besides…a shower after a hot day just feels lovely. 🙂
  • I meditate. Honestly, it takes the edge off, for me, in almost any trying moment.
  • I address other stressors that are in the background; there is paperwork for the appointment in the morning, and I had not yet found all of it. Taking care of that did a lot to ease my general level of stress.
  • I reminded the woman in the mirror that it’s okay to miss my traveling partner – he misses me, too – there is a greater purpose in living alone right now, a worthy one, a needful opportunity to heal and to grow. Taking the time to recall that this is a choice I am making for me, for my own sanity and longer term health and wellness, does a lot to ease the developing sense of bitterness.

Seriously? The bitterness was an illusion brought on by a little stress, a lot of love, and a lack of physical contact – it can be a challenge struggling with my libido in solitude, honestly, and that has been a thing that has held me back from finding my way through the chaos and damage more than once. The most important thing lacking in a solitary life [for me] is touch. An intimate connection with a physical component. Sexual romantic love. Going without that is super difficult for me, some days. Recognizing the simple primate mammalian truth of it allows the bitterness to subside – it wasn’t ‘real’ in the first place – and I move on with an evening filled with loving recollection of the excellent dinner I shared with my traveling partner, while I got myself organized for my appointment.

There is a lot of strength to be had in taking the very best care of this fragile vessel – and the being residing within it. Strength is…well… strong. And sexy. And nurturing. Bitterness? It doesn’t have those qualities at all. Given a choice, I’ll choose strength. I’m okay with not being so easily able to taste bitter. 🙂

 

I have goals. I have practices that I have confirmed (through practicing) work well to meet my needs over time. I make choices, and changes, that tend to keep me on track toward achieving my goals, meet my needs over time, and build a beautiful life with a foundation in sufficiency, contentment, day-to-day ease, and my Big 5 values (Respect, Reciprocity, Consideration, Compassion, and Openness). Generally, this all works out pretty well… although I find I also need to be firm with myself about managing ‘distractions’.

Sometimes the things that seem to be holding me back are just shadows of things; they have only as much power as I give them.

Sometimes the things that seem to be holding me back are just shadows of things; they have only as much power as I give them.

Everyday distractions are things like internet haters and trolls, OPD, media over-stimulation and marketing, the daily stress and tedium of employment, or becoming emotionally invested in someone else’s narrative. Sometimes my own libido is distraction enough, other times a touch of ennui or fatigue can throw me off course. My go to solution for these distractions, most of the time, is to look away, or walk on. It’s hard to do sometimes when people are so skilled at (and committed to) developing really engaging click bait, or have really well-developed skills at baiting people into becoming emotionally invested in the offered distraction. It’s not a coincidence that the stress levels of everyday life are so much higher for many people ‘than they used to be’ – the internet is a powerful tool for knowledge and connection, but it also drives a lot of stress (more through the distractions than through the legitimate valued content). People openly bully each other to share interest in numerous otherwise worthy causes; the bullying costs them any chance of me taking an interest, personally; I will not be bullied into choosing what matters to me.

I often find that reducing my stress level quickly is most easily done by disconnecting from the social media web, shutting down the streaming data pouring into my head space, and finding my way to stillness. It works in practice as well as on paper. This morning, being as human as I am, I found myself distracted from what works – by an article on the internet about how meditation doesn’t work! Oops. Well, yeah, I’m still human, and I am emotionally invested in these practices that are working so well for me. Feeling attacked by the writer’s opinion and observations, I felt myself getting sucked into the drama cycle; I took the bait. I also spit it out and moved on with my day, without further delay, having recognized that I was being baited.

A helpful practice, indeed.

A helpful practice, indeed.

It can be frustrating to feel attacked by someone else’s differing opinion, or experience. I am easily moved to want to share my own success, or my differing path. There’s only so much sharing that can be done, before I have become… a distraction. If I am having to foster, persuade, advertise, argue, reinforce, or support my experience beyond simply sharing it and citing my references, I have become a distraction on someone else’s journey. They choose their own path, wherever it may lead them, and they choose their own goals, their own practices, and determine the nature of their own successes and failures. I can’t really help with that, and if I find myself seeking to persuade, I have already been blown off course, myself; my writing isn’t about persuading you that I am right (about anything). I’m not here to convince, to argue, to persuade, or to map a more direct route; we are each having our own experience. I am my own cartographer, but I am not creating a map that can be relied upon by anyone else; it leads only to my own destination. I share some practices that work for me – and caution that your results may vary. This is not about ‘winning’, and it is not a competition.

Most of the time, the opinions and experiences of others, however they are expressed, are not truly an attack on anyone else. More likely that even the most aggressively confrontational narratives are less an attack on others than they are a defense against a perceived attack in the prior experience of the person delivering the narrative. Compassion is helpful, for me, and I often find that it allows me to be sympathetic, and open to understanding, without feeling pressured to commit to agreement, or to condone poor choices. It isn’t necessary for me to resolve every misconception or misunderstanding I see expressed around me; we are each having our own experience, and I don’t have any reason to expect that I will share every detail of someone else’s experience, or understand it in similar context. I have reached a point where it is enough, for me, to recognize differences, and accept those as having the potential to impact shared understanding. I make an effort to define my terms clearly, cite references (even in conversation) and accept when a discussion can go no further due to ‘magical thinking’ or very human impediments to reason (one cannot rationally argue with ‘belief’ – a believer has already acknowledged that their opinion has no provable basis, and that proof is not their concern.). I find it a comfortable fit to simply walk away from discussions that are impeded by a lack of reason, without finding it necessary to attack the other person; their opinions have consequences, and no further action is required from me. Attempting to continue the discussion as it spirals into argument is just one more distraction; there is no knowledge to be gained, and argument does not improve my quality of life.

For my own sanity, I make an effort not to cling to beliefs, and to stay current on new science and new knowledge – information increases, changes, develops over time. Staying current requires the use of verbs, and it is helpful to be able to determine whether a catchy headline is click bait, or worth my attention. (Hint: most often it is merely click bait, and an unworthy distraction.)

Finding sufficiency and contentment in what is, is enough.

Finding sufficiency and contentment in what is, is enough.

Yesterday I took a break from the digital world to relax, take care of me, and get some rest. I spent the day writing, doing yoga, and watching a show recommended by my traveling partner – and napping. I did quite a bit of napping. (I must have needed the sleep.) This morning I woke refreshed, and in much less pain, and mostly ready for another work week. Totally worth the time taken to take care of me, although I did very few of the tasks on my ‘to do list’ for the weekend. There’s no guilt there. These days, taking care of me is always at the top of my list of things to do. 🙂

I slept well and deeply, although I didn’t sleep through the night. I woke for a time, around 1:00 am, and although I was not anxious or in a lot of pain it was clear I was not going back to sleep easily. I did some yoga, meditated, and read a chapter of a favorite book – sleep was not far away at that point. I slept so well, actually, that I overslept my loose plan to take an early morning hike. Since there’s nothing I want or need to escape from, and no necessity to aggressively pursue exercise outside the home, and plenty to do (and to entertain me) right here, I am content with the spontaneous change of plans brought on by sleeping in.

There is enough structure and symmetry in life, there is no need to impose more.

There is enough structure and symmetry in life, there is no need to impose more.

I have the day ahead of me, to think, to be, to write, to do… it doesn’t seem necessary, today, to impose more structure on myself; I have a list of things that I’d like to get done, and I will likely do a great many of them today. It’s a good day for verbs. Some of the tasks on my list are utterly mundane day-to-day things like doing the dishes, cleaning the bathroom, or watering the garden. Other tasks on my list are a combination of tedium and delight that are both time-consuming, and requiring great care and attentiveness, like sorting and archiving my digital images, and updating my art archives with photos of more recent work. Some of the tasks on my list are creative endeavors, such as working on my manuscript, writing poetry, writing in my journal, or painting. Others are social endeavors; I have a long list of people I mean to write letters to.

Enough.

Enough.

 

I have not committed to any specific plan of action for now. I am simply enjoying my coffee. It is a remarkable coffee, too. Brazil Nossa Senhora Fatima – it has amazing aroma and flavor. I find myself wondering why I have explored so few Brazilian coffees in the past. I will no doubt have another cup or two; it is Saturday, and if I choose to ruin the upcoming night’s sleep with too much coffee, it is the one night of the week I can easily do so with few consequences. 🙂

I face the morning aware that I have recently had a number of significant moments that resulted in recognition that ‘this would be a good topic for a blog post’…and failing to write them down along the way, they are lost to me, for now. My memory doesn’t work as well as it might (I make jokes about my corrupted file system), and I know that when I don’t make notes on an idea for writing, or for painting, I am at risk of losing it altogether, and quite quickly. I no longer treat myself poorly over it – there is no ill intent, just this TBI, and being cruel to myself over my limitations has not done anything to ease the limitations themselves, in the past. It was a poor practice, and I have given it up.

The cool morning air pours in through the open patio door. Dawn has become daylight, and the sunlight on the lawn beyond my patio holds my attention for a time. I lose track of the moment, gazing out the window, listening to the aquarium trickling in the background. I wonder, after time passes, is this another sort of meditation, this rapt attentive gaze into the beyond, lacking in active content, simply breathing and seeing…or am I ‘stuck’ on some ‘damaged sector’ of my metaphoric hard drive? My mind wanders again, from thinking on that question, to some other notion. I realize I have been sitting quietly, holding my warm coffee cup in my hand, for some considerable time now. 37 minutes. Is it wasted time – or does this lovely stillness, content, aware, and calm, nurture some part of me that doesn’t get the attention it needs day-to-day in the fuss and bother of busy 21st century life?

Eye-catching bits of morning often catch my eye - is it a distraction, or is it the point of living?

Eye-catching bits of morning often catch my eye – is it a distraction, or is awareness the point of living?

Taking time for me takes many forms. Today is a good day for it – pretty nearly every day is, actually. Today is a good day to enjoy taking care of me, and applying verbs to my to do list, putting my effort where it pleases me most, and meets my needs over time. I build this beautiful life with my choices, and my actions. Today I happily do so with a grin and a challenge – to do so without the need to acquire more, or go elsewhere; I have what I need right here at home. That’s enough.

 

Yesterday I had to choose; a really cute floor cushion that is ‘just the right thing’ and a lovely set of high thread count king size sheets that suit my color theme quite perfectly… or not buying those things right now, at risk of having to pass on them all together – they are on sale, and not regularly available in any case. It’s a difficult choice, and I fight myself; I have a budget, and financial goals – one of which is buying myself a little home of my own, which, however small the home itself may be, is by far the largest budget impacting goal I can imagine for myself in this lifetime. Buying a set of sheets, itself, holds no potential as an individual purchase to derail my longer term goals…only…things like that are so rarely really individual purchases. I don’t mean that they are reliably associated with the purchase of additional (or impulse) items – I’ve gotten pretty decent at staying on budget and resisting those temptations – it’s that they seem small and insignificant in the moment, but annualized they end up amounting to a larger sum than easily predicted – because they are not entirely, fully, 100% planned.  “Needed but not planned” is a category of expenses I have yet to fully master.

I’ve come a long way with learning to handle my finances with some measure of skill – my TBI being what it is, I also rely on a fiduciary caregiver – someone whose role in my life is to assist me with managing my money, through budget assistance, financial planning, coaching, reminders, regular activity monitoring and regular reviews of progress to goals. (I have been financially abused in prior relationships often enough to be uncomfortably aware how much I need the help – and how risky even the help has the potential to be; it’s scary sometimes.) I still have challenges – and most of my day-to-day challenges with managing my money fall in the “needed but not planned” category. It has been the threat of potentially facing old-age destitute that forced me to consider having help with the money piece of my puzzle, and so far it has been a very wise decision.

Yesterday on my lunch walk I wandered through a nearby retailer filled the with joy that the sense of the recent payday tends to provide me. I spotted the cute cushion – and it is so perfect – and oh hey, those sheets are just the right color! I resisted the impulse purchase (hey! go practicing!) and assured myself that I could easily walk back after work and buy those then. I got back to my desk some time later and checked my budget and my bank account – which has become a habit, a regular practice, when I consider any unplanned expenditure. I expected to feel that satisfying feeling of confidence and self-assurance that comes of managing my affairs so skillfully these days…and…oh. Wait…what?? My balance was lower than I expected (not low, just lower), and I felt crushed for a moment, and deeply disappointed with myself. What had I done ‘wrong’? I emailed my traveling partner, agitated and stressed out by my findings, and feeling worried and somewhat frantic. He called me back with gentle reminders that goals are ahead of me, progress is incremental, and that everything is okay. Reassured I moved on with my day.

Heading home, I felt the pull of that cushion and those sheets… the urge to walk that way, look at, and touch those things was very powerful. I also know so much more about how my injury works, and why there have been so many times in my life when I would literally be checking out at the register paying for things I could not realistically afford, all the while negotiating with myself, trying to talk myself out of it…until I was at the exit, at which point I would switch to trying to justify the mistake I had so obviously just made. Disinhibiting injury. Loss of executive function. Not a game – and holding so much potential to destroy my future. 😦

The only thing in life that's all about the money is the money itself.

The only thing in life that’s all about the money is the money itself.

Yesterday, the power of incremental change over time, and practicing the practices, made itself clear; I kept heading for home, thinking about the cushion and the sheets, and the purchase I am not making now – but may make later. I get home, and add those things to my list of ‘things to have maybe’ (I generally  use my Amazon wish list for that purpose), which I consider each payday with great care, and an eye on the future. “Needed but not planned” is restricted, these days, to things like grocery essentials, and toilet paper – stuff that just can’t wait if I have run out, truly legitimate needs. Everything else goes to plan. This is what works for me, day-to-day. [You are not me; your results, and your best practices, may vary.] Any time I recklessly stray from that practice, I end up facing some moment of fearfulness and panic – or regret – when my budget and financial planning suddenly don’t add up. (That’s what caused me to be taken by surprise regarding my account balance yesterday; a reasonable, affordable – but not planned – purchase, made on the recommendation of my traveling partner, definitely affordable – still, not planned – and I had failed to account for it over the following days of other spending that had been quite planned… but not adjusted to account for the unplanned expenditure.)

I’m not good at skillful self-indulgence. I get easily carried away and take things too far, spend too much, lose sight of my longer term more important [to me] goals. I’m not good at managing panic and regret, either. The extremes of too much and too little mess with my head (thus the ongoing emphasis on sufficiency, contentment and ‘enough’). Attempting to practice austerity or extreme frugality to balance poorly planned spending, or reckless over spending don’t work very well for me, either; I react to the emotional sense of deprivation, privation, and ‘you can’t have that’ and find myself acting out against those feelings before I take time to remind myself that “I’m in charge around here, and I did this to me” – I would call it childish, but truly it is simply part of living with the combined challenges of my PTSD and my TBI. Struggling to work around the damaged bits isn’t ‘childish’ – it’s just complicated sometimes. I am very human. I have grown so much, though! I am actually frankly delighted with myself this morning, even joyously celebrating the small win that is not buying that perfectly cute cushion and that exactly right set of sheets – it’s a far bigger deal that I managed it so comfortably, than I know how to share. This morning I can see a future where I may not be destitute, living in poverty, homeless, abandoned, broken, and finished off by inevitable starvation or disease! Wow. Win and good. 🙂

When I consider money from the perspective that it is the spendable form of my very life force, I understand more easily what value it has, and find it easier to respect the needed planning and careful decision-making required for a comfortable lifetime.

When I consider money from the perspective that it is the spendable form of my very life force, I understand more easily what value it has, and find it easier to respect the needed planning and careful decision-making required for a comfortable lifetime.

My lack of skill at long-term austerity, if required, or basic day-to-day frugality when resources are limited drives continuous practice of those practices that seem most effective for me – and most of those have to do with planning, and capitalizing on the fact that I am good at planning, enjoy the planning, and leverage the planning for the joy of anticipation – which is quite as exciting and nice as the joy of spending right now, for me. Relying on my ability to plan, and follow a plan, not only gives me great delight in minutes and hours of happy anticipation and eagerness – those feelings give me opportunities to practice day-to-day resolve to stay on  plan (yep, reinforcing feedback loop for the win!) and give me a window of opportunity to carefully reconsider what I really want and need in my life – often things that are exciting in the moment (like a really super cute cushion, or just the right set of sheets) may lose their luster over a few days of consideration. I remove things from my wish list regularly, happier that I didn’t make the purchase, at that point, that I would have been to enjoy the item if I had bought it. It is rare to actually feel regretful over things I did not purchase – in fact, that generally only comes up with things like art, where a piece is one of a kind, never to be duplicated; in those cases the sting of regret is unavoidable, and may last a lifetime, for me. It is what it is; in some cases I will never have the funds to afford some piece I yearn to see in my home – in a roundabout way it is an element of what drove me to become an artist, myself. 🙂

Today is a good day to remember that resources are limited, and to plan accordingly.

Today is a good day to remember that resources are limited, and to plan accordingly.

Funny…so many words this morning, and really just to say ‘practicing the practices is effective’ and ‘incremental change over time does happen’ – and of course, ‘choosing the most appropriate practices is a pretty big deal’ and finishing it off with ‘your results may vary’ – because of course, ‘we are each having our own experience’. 😀