Archives for posts with tag: TBI

I woke gently to a lovely morning. It seems…unflawed. Being human, I enjoy the moment aware that even lovely moments pass. Savoring the pleasant ones is lovely…but sometimes leaves me wondering what to write about. I have a handy list of things I thought about writing at some other time, but didn’t…I check the list and the very first thing reads simply ‘spelling mistakes’.

Flowers. Sunshine. Light.

Flowers. Sunshine. Light.

I will admit I read my own writing. I don’t know whether that’s an odd thing. I review new writing for spelling mistakes, grammar, syntax, incomprehensible weirdness, an overabundance of commas, a surplus of poetry resulting in a shortage of coherence; these are basic editing steps and sure, I do them. I also read my own writing. I find it is an excellent reminder of how far I have come, how far there is yet to go, and also serves to bring me back to understandings and knowledge I’ve already got, that I may lose sight of now and then. Poetically speaking, sometimes my writing serves to communicate with me – getting ideas across to me, past my injury – like passing notes to myself.

I rarely catch all the spelling mistakes. (Let’s leave my grammar and punctuation out of this. There’s only so much the features in WordPress can do to fight me off!)

Obvious spelling mistakes are pretty easy, and of course the spell-checker handles most of them, but I routinely miss at least one that I catch later, when I am reading my own writing. Sometimes a lot later. Years. It messes with my head to catch a spelling error in an older blog post, months or years later, if I am reading on the train, or under circumstances when I would not be able to immediately fix it; I am not likely to remember quite where or what it was, just that it exists. Most of the spelling mistakes I don’t catch fall into one basic category: real words that don’t fit. ‘Form’ instead of ‘from’, for example, or ‘that’ instead of ‘than’, and of course these are mistakes a spell-checker doesn’t generally pick up – and they change the meaning of the sentence! My least favorite outcome of a spelling error is being misunderstood. I can so easily get past the part where you may think I’m an idiot, or just dreadful at writing things down. Being misunderstood feels frustrating, unsatisfying, and alienating, sometimes shameful, as though the entire burden of successful communication rests on me. (If I am writing, it sort of does…doesn’t it?)

(My brain throws a humorous, encouraging scene into my imagination to lighten the moment, my own voice as an authority figure, calm and firm, an airport baggage claim carousel nearby, “Ma’am, please set the baggage down and back away quietly, and no one will get hurt…”. I smile, and let perspective win.)

Beauty

Another perspective. Sunlight and flowers.

I guess what I’m on about is that practicing good practices – whatever they are – does not lead to ‘perfection’. It leads a lot of wonderful places, depending on what I am practicing, of course, but ‘perfect’ isn’t actually one of them. ‘Proficient’ seems achievable, perhaps even ‘masterful’, ‘skillful’, ‘growth’, or ‘change’ – there are a lot of different outcomes to practice that are powerful or positive (again, depending on what I am practicing; not all practices are created equal). Perfection is not even on the menu, unless I redefine ‘perfection’ to be something achievable in the first place – and such a definition of perfection would have to leave room for the occasional mistake.

I make spelling mistakes. More often because I type very fast, than because I don’t know the correct spelling of the word I wish to use, some of them are a result of damage…but however carefully I write, I manage to make the occasional spelling mistake. My mistakes sometimes frustrate me, but they also tie me to this very human experience in a very human way. I’m okay with that. I still like to be understood, and to present my writing with great care and consideration; it is ‘speaking for me’. I know that when I read an old post, a missed spelling mistake can be very jarring, halting the flow of my thoughts, like a scratch on a beautiful wood finish. What about you? Do they mess with your reading enjoyment? If they do, let’s use the opportunity to connect; reply with a comment to the post, and tell me what the spelling error is. I’ll fix it and say thank you. 🙂 We are each having our own experience – but we are also all in this together.

I make mistakes. We all do. This morning is a lovely morning, and so much so that contemplating life’s small missteps and making time for perspective about the small things that can go wrong feels safe and comfortable, not the least bit worrisome or stressful. Mistakes are pretty human. Letting them stress me out is pretty human, but not very useful. Finding perspective on the every day stresses in life – like the spelling mistakes in a blog post – is a simple practice that I find builds emotional resilience over time.

Today is a good day for perspective.

Today is a good day for perspective.

Today is a good day to practice good practices. Today is a good day to be so very human, with all the wonders and delights that are just beyond the suffering, when I practice good practices and make good choices to support my needs over time. Today is a good day to take next steps, to try new things, and enjoy moments. Today is a good day to enjoy the world.

This morning I woke comfortably, easily, and moved through the beginning of my morning quite gently and with contentment. I feel wrapped in pleasantness, and generally in good spirits. It’s a nice start to a busy Tuesday ahead.

I don’t spend time, today, dissecting pleasant experiences – rarely do I immerse myself in the autopsy of a negative experience, either, these days. I have found that ruminating over what didn’t work…doesn’t work. Well, doesn’t work for me. Your results may vary. Similarly, questioning good experiences, however well-intended, can so easily stray into criticizing them, or denying myself the moment of joy. That’s beyond counter-productive, it’s actually mean. I don’t do mean. (When I say “I don’t do mean” I am not intending to communicate that it is beyond my nature, rather I am firmly setting a boundary with myself that this is not behavior I favor, and I refrain from it willfully, because I do not value the qualities of ‘mean’.) There are so many times it feels as if the world is lining up to knock me down or treat me badly – why would I contribute to that? It feels very good to treat myself well, to be considerate of my own experience, and to savor lovely moments.

Where does inspiration come from? Why does it feel like being in love?

Where does inspiration come from? Why does it feel like being in love?

This morning I am simply enjoying a quiet moment, feeling incredibly inspired and wanting very much to paint. For now, there is room in the loft to do so, and I may take the weekend and invest it my inspiration and take care of me on a level that I lack words for. I have, at this point, some dozen or more pieces sketched out in my head, two dozen or so sketched out in my sketch book, and a small handful of prepared canvases to work with…and  lot of drive to see color on canvas, and enjoy the physical experience of painting. My playlist is ready. All of it may have to wait for me to move into my studio… I’m okay with that, too. Perspective. Sufficiency. Contentment.

Tree of Knowledge, Tree of Life, and a living metaphor for inspiration.

Tree of Knowledge, Tree of Life, and a living metaphor for inspiration.

I am enjoying feeling wrapped in the singular sensation of self, of autonomy, of integrity, and of ‘wholeness’ that I experience when I paint – and when I am inspired to do so, and contemplating work not yet started. The heart of my being, the kernel of love at the center of the chaos and damage, is this creative drive, this experience of wonder and unlimited, unfathomable… yeah. I run out of words and run to canvas. That’s sort of how it works for me. 🙂 It’s a bit of my experience over which no partner, no family member, no boss, no authority figure, no elected official, no clergyman, no doctor, no lover, and no friend has held power over – and this morning, I am enjoying a moment of contentment as I consider that. I find myself wondering if we each have some core something-or-other that is the ‘who I am’ piece of self that can’t be controlled by someone else. I find myself thinking of Viktor Frankl, and feeling that ‘oh! I think I get it…’ feeling that always feels so satisfying in the moment. Maybe it’s madness.

Maybe it’s just a lovely morning, thinking about paintings I’d like to paint, creative projects I’d enjoy undertaking to fine-tune a beautiful life, and the delights of being able to enjoy being me? That’s certainly enough.

Today is a good day to take the time to enjoy my experience of myself. Today is a good day to take myself very seriously – and not seriously at all – and both in the kindest possible way. Today is a good day to love.

I slept badly last night. My sleep was interrupted, restless, and featured bad dreams on old themes with new characters. I felt over-heated much of the night, which I noticed most often immediately before taking some action that subsequently found me feeling too cold. It was an uncomfortable sort of night. I could spend many hours and words looking for ‘why’; I don’t find that doing so is helpful, nor does it result in fewer such nights. I let it go and move on, feeling generally in good spirits this morning in spite of the difficult night.

I didn’t let the lack of good sleep frustrate me. It got me thinking, this morning, about frustration in general. Frustration is my kryptonite, emotionally. Something about my messed up wiring, and broken bits, allows even small moments of frustration to become a very big, very ugly, emotional mess in a small amount of time. Lately, I’ve been finding my way to using some common moments of frustration as simple practices for dealing more appropriately and comfortably with frustration itself. The value in these small practices has been almost immediate, but the value in any practice is the practicing, itself, and I still need quite a lot of it before I even approach a place in life where I may be able to say “I handle frustration well”. That’s the goal, though, ultimately.

The journey is not all blue skies and meadows...but there are some blue skies and meadows to enjoy along the way.

The journey is not all blue skies and meadows…but there are some blue skies and meadows to enjoy along the way.

It is no easy feat for me to choose to make use of some unpleasant moment or circumstance to willfully practice some better practice than my reactive impulse in the moment might direct me towards without any practice at all. Frustration is a free will killer. Frustration dissolves emotional resilience and mindfulness almost instantly, for me. Frustration is an emotion to which I reliably still react, rather than responding with mindfulness, will, consideration and good self-care.  Practicing useful practices has resulted in so many day-to-day improvements in my experience that it has been a source of some frustration that I hadn’t yet built a practice specific to mastering how I manage frustration, itself. Finding one or two in my everyday experience – built around the most common sources of frustration in my own life (like logging into apps using complicated passwords that easily fail, or the occasional odd screen-freeze on my device) – is allowing me to practice better behaviors in response to frustrating moments. The hope is that doing so with small things, harmless things, common things will insulate me from major freak outs and emotional disasters when bigger things frustrate me; practice may not make ‘perfect’, but it sure tends to solidify habits, and change specific reactions.

Taking time to appreciate pleasant moments gives them lasting impact on my day-to-day experience.

Taking time to appreciate pleasant moments gives them lasting impact on my day-to-day experience.

Celebrating progress, even small wins, has big value. Even something as small on the victory scale as a change in thinking, or a good idea, is worth a moment of my appreciation. This morning, I’m taking time to appreciate new practices that address a very old issue, for me, and feeling positive and supported. This, too, is a practice; the practice of celebrating small victories, and incremental progress over time, is a practice that builds more positive implicit memory, as well as providing myself with emotional support from within – which builds emotional self-sufficiency, and keeps me on the path of reaching that place where my close relationships with others are reliably chosen based on desire, and built on positive emotional values, rather than investing in habitual, self-defeating, or co-dependent behaviors, that over time become damaging.

Where does my path take me? How do I look beyond patterns to find change?

Where does my path take me? How do I look beyond patterns to find change?

 

Meeting most of my emotional needs, myself, isn’t an unreasonable goal, and getting there lifts the burden from loved ones to ‘make me happy’ – or ‘make me’ anything at all. I get to ‘make me’ in my own image. Powerful. I am eager to take that project to a new level by moving into creative live/work space and investing more of my time in me. The wait involved in ideal readiness – and an available unit – is another practice in managing frustration on a larger scale; my impatience lurks in the background, waiting for a moment to jump out and undermine my good time now. Mindfulness practices are one way to keep my Observer firmly in the driver’s seat for much of the journey. Another beneficial practice is to embrace the joy I find in planning the move; making a point of being very realistic, practical, and frugal builds useful skills for good self-care, and I feel engaged in imminent change in a positive way.  I’m still very much a beginner, practicing practices. I am still at risk of attacking myself, my will, my resolve, and my intention, from within on any point of vulnerability my demons can grab onto; it makes for some uncomfortable nights, but I am content to show myself some compassion, some acceptance, and some love, and move on from the difficult moments to continue the practicing of good practices. 🙂

It's worth it to take a look at my experience from another perspective...

It’s worth it to take a look at my experience from another perspective…

Today is a good day to practice good practices. Today is a good day to enjoy now, and celebrate small successes that matter to me, most. Today is a good day to enjoy each moment with a smile. Today is a good day to enjoy building my world.

It’s been a lovely weekend, generally. The sunshine, mild weather, and the comfortable intimacy and camaraderie of long-standing love were welcome, and I’ve very much enjoyed the experience. Still human, still dealing with my chaos and damage, still practicing practices, investing in growth, studying the basics of love and The Art of Being, so the weekend has had the occasional moment like clouds passing by.

Flowers and sunshine, a favorite way to get perspective.

Flowers and sunshine, a favorite way to get perspective.

One of the most difficult things to learn, for me, is to appreciate and value my successes, myself, even the small ones. It’s especially difficult to do if I am busily consumed by being hard on myself for something that didn’t go well, or feels like a failure, or a mistake. Celebrating the win has so much value, though, and counts for so little in my implicit memory without the additional focus and repetition; I only need to hear how horribly wrong something has gone once to feel the full weight of circumstances and consequences, and to punish myself with self-criticism, frustration, and disappointment. There are verbs involved, these are not passive processes; I invest in my emotional experience, and I have choices. The choices are not always easy, or obvious, and sometimes I am fighting myself with will that has been damaged by years of learned helplessness.

Flowers exist in many forms, and colors, with a variety of scents, thriving in many different environments; there's a metaphor there.

Flowers exist in many forms, and colors, with a variety of scents, thriving in many different environments; there’s a metaphor there.

The PTSD has its moment to shine, of course, and this weekend I learned some new things about what I may be reacting to, under some conditions that have mystified me for a long while. We are each having our own experience, and any one of us understands our own pain far more easily than we understand anyone else’s. Many unexpected – and valued –  insights come from others. Finding both compassion and self-compassion without becoming distracted by the volatility of emotions in the moment is rather like I imagine it might be to walk a high-wire in a windstorm, blind-folded with boots on.

Wind-tossed flowers  are no less lovely because they are difficult to photograph.

Wind-tossed flowers are no less lovely because they are difficult to photograph.

It’s still been a lovely weekend full of flowers, and sunshine, and love…fearless, undeniable, passionate, robust, straight-up dependable love. Walking love’s path isn’t always soft grass on bare feet, that’s all – sometimes it is taking careful, considerate, mindful steps across a construction site littered with project scraps, and the occasional jagged something-or-other that is too easy to trip over. There are verbs involved. Sometimes emotion overcomes reason, however briefly. There’s no loss of love. I sit smiling and thinking of my traveling partner, and this journey that has taken us so far together, and considering the small wins, and small errors, mindful of the potential to learn and grow and become more the woman I most want to be.  Love is worthy of the investment in time, growth, and deep listening.

Being patience and looking closer pays off.

Being patient and looking closer pays off.

Love is a big deal. Beginning with me, and filling this fragile vessel with all the goodness of heart, consideration, compassion, and regard that I might offer to someone I love begins with treating myself with that same goodness of heart, consideration, compassion, and regard. It looks easy on paper. In practice, I find that I easily undermine my efforts there when I put concerns about someone who matters ahead of letting me matter, first. It’s a strange thing. If I worry, for example, about someone’s feelings being hurt if I am ‘too curt’ with them about distracting me with conversation while I am working on something, instead of simply setting that boundary in an uncomplicated way, I increase the likelihood that I may express myself poorly, being vague, or understating my boundary, or becoming frustrated or resentful before speaking up about it. I create a difficulty for myself that taking care of me in a more authentic way would have prevented, if I speak up simply and clearly. As life lesson’s go, an important one.

However humble, even small successes are worthy of a moment of appreciation.

However humble, even small successes are worthy of a moment of appreciation.

Still…it’s a lovely weekend. Today is a good day to grow. Today is a good day to appreciate the growth that has already been achieved. Today is a good day to let go of taking things personally. Today is a good day to simply be. Today is a good day for love – and flowers.

There is value in perspective, and in enjoying the moment.

There is value in perspective, and in enjoying the moment.

I slept well and deeply last night. I woke feeling stiff, and in pain, but in a generally positive place emotionally. It’s an ordinary enough Wednesday. I sip my coffee and consider how meaningless the sentence “It’s an ordinary enough Wednesday” actually is, if one does not know the meaning of the word ‘Wednesday’. It’s quite difficult to have a good quality discussion on a topic, if the participants don’t share a similar understanding of how the words being used are defined. It’s a huge part of the ‘each having our own experience’ puzzle; the way we understand the world, ourselves, and the way we use language have the potential to be misunderstood.

We are each having our own experience.

As with the definitions of words in the spoken and written language we use, our assumptions ‘about’ things and people going on around us define other characteristics of the world, and our experience; our assumptions are quite individual and personal, and may not be shared by others. The assumptions we each make may not even be ‘accurate’ when compared to what can be shown empirically, tested, or verified.

We are each having our own experience – and it may not be ‘real’… or to be more reasonable, it may not be anything at all like the experience a large percentage of other people are having, seem to be having, say they are having – or is being held out as some sort of defining ‘norm’. It’s our own. Exclusively and entirely ours – and mostly chosen, and often based on our assumptions. To be clear, I’m not attempting to say that we are ‘at fault’, ourselves, when someone else acts against us violently, or when we must endure non-consensual experiences inflicted upon us. We can make use of our free will to take action, and some of the actions taken in the world are inflicted on someone, by another, causing pain, injury, or assorted other negative outcomes.

Some of the most horrible things that occur in the world are defended, and often by a great many people, using assumptions and definitions to support them, while the suffering is decried by others, also based on assumptions and definitions. It’s messy. Who is ‘right’? Does the injured party define the circumstances because they are injured by them? Does an aggressor define the circumstances, free to do so based on ‘intent’ versus ‘outcome’? We each have our opportunity in life to examine this puzzle closely; we will each hurt someone, sometime, and we are each at some point hurt, ourselves. When we are hurt, does the intent of the one who hurt us matter more than our pain? When we have injured someone else, which thing is more significant to us: explaining why we didn’t mean our actions to cause injury, why our actions ‘shouldn’t have’ caused injury, or that someone is hurt? Is being ‘right’ more important than treating each other well?

We are each  having our own experience – and I can’t answer my questions for anyone but me, really. I am thinking these things over, myself, because ‘reciprocity’ is on my mind; it’s one of my Big 5 relationship values. Reciprocity, from my perspective, might mean everyone takes turns on a household task, or it might mean that one person does a specific thing routinely because they don’t mind or have unique skill at it, while others also take on tasks similarly suited to their nature in equal measure, thus distributing the work in a way that is balanced and fair to all. Reciprocity can mean ‘taking turns’. Reciprocity, emotionally, means I give support in equal measure to receiving it, and that I back my partners goals and growth equally with my own. “Equal”, “balanced”, “fair” and “reciprocal” are all words, and because we are individuals, we define them for ourselves, quite individually. My need for reciprocity is not necessarily shared by others; it is my own choice to value this quality in my relationships, and to foster it in my own experience. I choose whether to build relationships with individuals, and can’t force my values on them. Sitting here sipping my coffee and considering reciprocity as a relationship value I realize that one thing I think is utterly urgent to be reciprocal with is consideration, itself. Reciprocity is hard to achieve if I don’t take time to consider what has value to others, what their needs may be… Oh, damn. Another definition would be needed… “need” versus “want”.

Each having our own experience…and it hits me hard, as I down my last gulp of now cold coffee; if I am engaged and present in my own experience, awake, aware, and observing the experiences of others while doing so…making the wisest choices I can to take care of me, and meet my own needs over time…listening deeply when others interact with me…practicing non-harm, compassion, and self-compassion…treating myself truly well, and living beautifully…it sounds rather as if on those terms, reciprocity happens, consideration is, and The Big 5 dovetails quite seamlessly with The Art of Being. So…this tells me living my own experience fully, and mindfully walking my path each day is ‘all’ that is required to live a life that is generally contented and joyful. There’s definitely a lesson about attachment sneaking in there, too. My definitions, my values, my goals…your results may vary.

I am a flower, blooming in my own time.

I am a flower, blooming in my own time.

Today is a good day to enjoy the person in the mirror. Today is a good day to do my best. Today is a good day to build emotional resilience and self-sufficiency, appreciating how far I’ve come, and what a lovely journey it generally is. Today is a good day to listen deeply, to love well, and to savor being okay right now.