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Pain and the Moment

August 21, 2014 //
1

I hurt this morning. It’s ‘just arthritis’, and my spine aches, and I’m stiff even after this morning’s predawn yoga. It’s not new. Hell, it doesn’t even get in the way of a good time, generally. I feel it, however, and it intruded on my meditation more than once. Some of you are likely in pain, too. It sorts of goes with the whole ‘human experience’ package; this is a relatively fragile vessel, prone to injuries that accrue damage over time.  As excited as I am by how much the yoga and meditation do help…I still need additional pain relief to be comfortable much of the time. Taking pain killers comes with risks of its own, and even the Rx pain-killer I take doesn’t eliminate pain. I’m probably grateful for that, actually; how much damage could I do myself entirely by accident if I could not feel any pain?

Pain tells me something about my experience – both right  now, and the experience I have had over time.  Pain tells me something about how I am taking care of myself, and it tells me when there is more that needs to be done.

What pain is not, is ‘everything’, although it can certainly feel like ‘everything’ sometimes. Today isn’t that, I’m just thinking about pain in this moment, and feeling compassion for the myself regarding the pain I am in, and how it limits me (or how I choose to allow it to limit me), and I am thinking about the pain you may be in as well. Your pain also matters. Whether physical or emotional, the pain any one of us is experiencing in the moment may not be ‘everything’ – but it colors our experience, and may influence how we interact with, or perceive, others.  It’s so easy to get from ‘I hurt right now’ to ‘someone must pay for this bullshit!’ and find myself treating someone else poorly, because I hurt.  As I prepare to head into the world today I contemplate that and consider the pain other people are in, and hope that the effort to be mindful that we’re each having our own experience, and that for each of us the pain we are in, ourselves, is the pain we feel the most will keep me on track to treat myself and others with compassion and consideration – in spite of my pain. [That was a long and awkward sentence, my bad. Please read it again if you need to, before we move on…]

There’s not really more to say about pain. I’ve got mine. You’ve got yours. We’re all in this together. We’re each having our own experience. I’ll head out and do my best not to be unpleasant with people, and chances are you will to. If we should chance to meet, I hope it is pleasant for both of us, in spite of our pain. 🙂

"The Stillness Within" 8" x 10" acrylic on canvas with glow.

“The Stillness Within” 8″ x 10″ acrylic on canvas with glow.

I had a wonderfully intimate connected evening with my at-home partner last night – and that, too, in spite of my pain. We had dinner, and did a small bit of fun decorating, a little shopping, and something new. After we did yoga together, we also took time to meditate together. I am fairly shy about that, honestly; it feels very intimate on a level I lack language for, and it was wonderfully connected and calm and loving and… I definitely want to do that again. I’m not a yoga instructor; I practice because it works for me, helps me stay flexible, touches something in my heart, and helps me build emotional resilience, and recover a beautiful shape as I lose weight. I don’t think any of that means I have what it takes to go around teaching people something. My at-home partner really prefers to practice yoga with someone, rather than alone, and expressed some frustration with her lack of flexibility. Practicing together gave us a wonderful way to connect in a physical way, to share, to comfort, to enjoy each other; I was surprised that I didn’t feel self-conscious about gently sharing personal ‘best practices’ for some of the challenges she shared. It was a nice life lesson; we can each share what we know with the ones we love. Gentle coaching, loving communication, and heartfelt welcomed touch requires no certification.

It was a lovely evening to practice new skills. I found myself tapping new learning from some powerful books: Emotional Intimacy, Mindfulness for Beginners and Just One Thing come to mind. We shared new music suggested to us by our traveling partner with our yoga and meditation, which was a lovely way to connect him to the experience we were sharing. I don’t remember any pain from those moments, although I was in serious pain beforehand, and obviously so later, too. Funny how that works. How does that work? I’m glad it does.

Unfinished canvas...what will it become when the moment arrives?

Unfinished canvas…what will it become when the moment arrives?

Today is a good day to enjoy the moment. Today is a good day to acknowledge progress, however small. Today is a good day for love. Today is a good day to treat people well – even myself. Today is a good day to change the world.

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Categories Art, art and the artist, Brain Injury, Free Will, Healthy Living, Love, Mindfulness, pain, Perspective, Relationships, The Big 5, women

It Gets Easier With Practice

August 20, 2014 //
0

That’s a simple enough observation to share on a quiet morning; it gets easier with practice. It’s true of nearly anything one might practice, and would go without saying for that reason, only… I don’t know about  you, but I regularly forget that. I’m not looking to achieve perfection through practicing; it’s enough that practicing helps. I’m delighted that both the practicing and applying the skill, task, process, or practice I am practicing does get easier. With practice. 🙂

Like pictures of flowers, it's worth it to practice.

Like pictures of flowers, it’s worth it to practice.

Yesterday had all the potential in the world to go very wrong. I had taken my dose of Rx pain relief the night before, and rather carelessly just toss the bottle back into its place without being particularly mindful that I had just taken the last dose. As in, I had run out. I work hard to prevent that from happening because the outcome of unexpectedly withdrawing from it is not pleasant. I didn’t really think I was at risk – there was another whole bottled right there…only… there wasn’t. That was an entirely different medication, and the re-fill of my pain-killer hadn’t yet arrived in the mail. That seemed no big deal in the morning, at least initially. I was in a great mood and not much pain. So I shrugged it off and went on with my day. Before I even got to work, my mood started to turn, and I felt this simmering anger in the background that I couldn’t explain – it was a lovely day and I felt great when the day started.

By the time I got to work I felt inexplicably resentful, cross, short-tempered and hostile. Being ever so human, my brain started to craft explanations that seemed reasonable, which – since there wasn’t anything wrong to cause the feelings I was having, didn’t bode well for the future of the day, or my mood.  Later, some juxtaposition of thoughts and observations drove me to take a ‘time out’ in a quiet corner and meditate for a moment or two, and as I gently considered my being, I realized I was in a lot of pain. A lot. That’s when the smile broke through, and my shoulders relaxed, and the ferocity building in my heart died away; of course I was in pain, I hadn’t taken my pain medication. The last piece slipped into place and I recognized that the medication I hadn’t taken easily accounted for the entire experience. My experience immediately improved. I still hurt. I spent the day in a lot of pain. I still had that headache, and withdrawing from a pain-killer unexpectedly does suck – but it’s totally survivable, only mildly unpleasant. Certainly, it does not amount to an emotional betrayal of any sort, and there’s no call to allow it to ruin a productive work day.

I spent the rest of the day almost merry. I phoned my physician, asked to have the Rx refilled at the local pharmacy. My at-home partner offered to pick it up on her way home so it would be waiting for me when I arrived. Emotional crisis averted. I even thought to pay myself on the back for not allowing my emotions to rule – or ruin – the day, and enjoyed a moment of quite celebration – practicing the practices definitely making an every day difference.

Yoga is harder when I’m in pain, but getting through a sequence that addresses that pain reduces the pain I’m in.  That’s one practice I definitely intend to keep.

Meditation doesn’t come naturally during an emotional storm, or an angry moment, or dark despair; that’s why it requires practice, and making that commitment has resulted [for me] in more emotional resilience, more awareness and presence, less fearfulness and anxiety, better sleep, and a deep sense of calm that is easier to reach. Another practice I’m fully committed to; it’s the most powerful Rx I’ve ever had for some of what ails me.

Self-care practices go unnoticed in the lives of so many people. Observation in my own experience tells me, sadly, that much of what is wrong with the world is how poorly we treat ourselves, care for ourselves (or don’t), and tend to our own needs; we are rarely able to do better for others than we can do for ourselves. I’m fairly strict with myself these days, in a loving way, about being on time with medication, getting enough sleep, eating right, and staying on track with fitness goals – because when I treat myself well, I treat the world well, and enjoy my experience more.

A lovely day to treat myself well, and enjoy my experience more.

A lovely day to treat myself well, and enjoy my experience more.

Today seems ordinary enough, in a very pleasant way. Today I’ll take my time, savor the moments, and enjoy my experience. Today is a good day to enjoy the world.

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Categories Brain Injury, Free Will, Healthy Living, Metaphors, Mindfulness, pain, Perspective, The Big 5

Detour Through Change

August 19, 2014 //
2

When I was 18, and until I almost 40, I danced. I moved. I bounced. No good groove could hit my consciousness without resulting in the exquisitely free feeling of being able to move to it sweeping over me, and utterly lacking any self-consciousness in the matter, I danced. I am not a trained dancer. I haven’t ‘studied’ accepted forms of dance or movement. I grew up on Soul Train, and hanging out listening to dance-able tracks, hitting the clubs in my 20s as much for the experience of dancing, of losing myself in the experience, as anything else.  It isn’t something I talk about much now; I still grieve losing that spark.

I don’t know when it actually happened. At some point I just sort of ‘froze up’. Oh, I still let go and feel the freedom to move now and then, but something inside me now quickly identifies it and puts and end to that shit as soon as I’m aware of it. What killed the dancing? I usually point to the arthritis, but my arthritis set in back in the early 90s. It wasn’t until much later than I lost the will to dance, and I remember the very poignant moment I finally noticed it had died.  Odd that I mention it this morning? No. Not really.

Yesterday at work I was thinking about it. Thinking about movement. About dance. Contemplating why I prefer one sort of music over another, and realized it has a lot to do with that ‘urge to move’; even without actually following through, I love music that drives dance. There’s incredible power in that freedom to move expressively, to celebrate with utter freedom, to let go of convention and self-consciousness and be, in motion. It is a different meditation. I miss the strength of it. I found myself thinking I might benefit from some truly novel experience, a departure from my norms, a return to more primitive pleasure in movement…or…something.

My email alerted me that I had a message; my partners asking me if I am interested in attending an event… a festival… a ‘sacred dance’ festival. Wait…what? That couldn’t be any more different that what I’m generally doing any given day of the week if it had been crafted to be so. It struck me strangely that it speaks to directly to the heart of the chaos and damage, inviting me to come and stare into the face of whatever has kept me frozen for so long. My fingers eagerly type an enthusiastic ‘yes’ reply of some sort while my demons sit back, quite astonished and helpless. I am tickled by the strangeness of it, even now, smiling and wondering what may come of it.

Happening.

Happening.

Sacred dance has a long history with human primates. Native American Ghost Dancing.  Bharatanatyam of the Tamil Nadu. Sufi Dervishes. Circle dances are multi-cultural, existing in many places, times, and cultures. There’s more. There’s always more. There’s ‘So You Think You Can Dance’ – creating a stage for some amazing art in a very commercial way. There are still nightclubs, and in spite of the comedy about it, even ‘twerking‘ is ‘real’ dancing (there are even handy YouTube tutorials!). “Ecstatic Dance” movements, tribes, events, and communities exist; human beings dance.

I miss dancing. Arthritis or not, I want to be movement and rhythm again; I want to dance. I suppose diving headlong into sacred dance as a shared sacrament and celebration is taking a bigger than small step… It is, however, the step I am taking. I wonder where it leads?

Today is a good day to take another look in the mirror. Today is a good day to explore all my potential – even the uncomfortable bits. Today is a good day to change the world.

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Categories Brain Injury, Free Will, Healthy Living, Logic & Reason, Love, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress

Stillness and Beauty

August 18, 2014 //
0

It is a lovely morning, following a great weekend. I could comfortably stop right there, this morning, and contentedly continue to meditate, or flip through images, or simply relax and watch fish swim. This, however, is time with myself I value, and taking this quiet time over my coffee and a few words nurtures something precious. I wonder for a moment about that idea, itself; do we each find some different little something to be the thing that fills our heart with a comfortable sense of who we are, or is it the same thing for each of us, only packaged differently? Perhaps both those things are true.

Details matter.

Details matter.

I spent a large portion of my thinking time yesterday considering how to arrange the space in the loft; we’ve made some different choices with regard to how we’re using some of our space. I’m going to have room to paint! Everyday painting. Any day painting. Room to work more slowly, and explore more details. Room to be more technical. Room to work large. Room to work, stop for a day, or a work week, and pick up the thread of a new painting and continue with it more fluidly, and with greater emotional integrity. Room to live actively in the headspace I’m creating in, surrounded by the work I’m doing. I’m so excited it is sometimes difficult to remain fully present and engaged in the moment, when some small detail occurs to me (‘Where will the aquarium go?’).

There are a lot of details, each a potential choice. What experience will I choose to build?

There are a lot of details, each a potential choice. What experience will I choose to build?

This change won’t  happen over night; there are other relevant changes in progress, and some work involved. I love having this to anticipate – even in looking ahead to it, there is delight. I’m also not prone to rushing stuff like this; taking my time with it reduces the stress of the change itself, which is a big deal for me. So, for now I am contentedly planning the details of changes to come, measuring space, measuring things, and doing the math. I’m sitting there, in the space-that-will-be, meditating in the openness and light, and contemplating the aesthetic of it, and what will be functional and beautiful, without being costly or impractical. I am making the space my own, even now, without moving one item from its current location to another. My heart is moving in. Suddenly our house feels far more homelike to me, and to a degree that exceeds most home-like experiences I’ve had.

I realize I’m sitting here, rather puzzled; how did I not get how important this so clearly is to me? Why have I turned a blind eye, or actively undercut my needs here, time and again over-compromising on an important value? What a crappy way to treat myself! I shake it off with a deep breath and a smile; I’ve only just begun ‘the second half’, certainly there’s time enough to learn to treat myself better than that. There’s time to make other choices. There’s time to appreciate partners who recognize how much this meets my needs – and potentially their own, as well.

There is simple beauty if finding my way, however slowly.

There is simple beauty in finding my way, however slowly.

Today is a good day to make new choices. Today is a good day to embrace change mindfully and with a serene heart. Today is a good day to enjoy the moment. Today is a good day to do my best, simply because it is my best, and that is what I do. Today is a good day to change.

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Categories Art, art and the artist, Brain Injury, Free Will, Healthy Living, Love, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Relationships, The Big 5

Hitting the Reset Button

August 17, 2014 //
2

In life, sometimes the infernal beeping of some internal alarm just refuses to reset. In some cases that gets labeled ‘trauma’ or ‘post traumatic stress’ or ‘hormones’ or… well, you get the picture. Sometimes a name isn’t enough. Sometimes giving our baggage more detail, putting a face on it to face, isn’t enough either.

Baggage gets heavy if I won't put it down.

Baggage gets heavy if I won’t put it down.

Each time I’ve been on the brink, I’ve stood wobbling on the edge saturated in a breath-taking fear or despair that both holds me from actually falling, and prevents me from stepping away without a clear act of will.  There are choices to be made, actions to be taken, self to build, self to destroy in the process of rebuilding. Some times we get the job done without help. Sometimes we turn to books, therapy, structured reprogramming, prescription drugs, or religion; we’re primates, we’ll find another way.

Art...

Art…

...contemplating the beauty of the natural world around us...

…contemplating the beauty of the natural world around us…

...long walks through beautiful forests...

…long walks through beautiful forests…

...a meaningful conversation with a friend over coffee...

…a meaningful conversation with a friend over coffee…

...a good book.

… or a short vacation through a good book.

Personally, sometimes I find I need to ‘hit the reset button’; radically alter my approach completely, try something I hadn’t expected might have value. Every choice matters. Every small moment of illumination lights a step on the path I didn’t see ahead of me, before.

Today is a very good day to one small part of everything that matters so much. Today is a good day to change the world.

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Categories Art, art and the artist, Brain Injury, Free Will, Love, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Relationships
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