Archives for posts with tag: TBI

I am in some pain this morning, but nothing like the worst of the pain I am sometimes in. My coffee is good, better than average, not my best cup of coffee. I sit quietly with my thoughts and my coffee, after my walk, giving my illness-weakened body a little time to recover from the walking, before I get started on the housework. It’s a cycle, this thing we call “life”. Many cycles, actually, on a journey without a map. It’s easy to narrow my focus to just this space, here, and to allow life to become the cycles, and little more: sleep, walk, coffee, write, work, rest, cook, clean-up, sleep again. We are so much more than the practical task-handling endeavors that are necessary to build and maintain the quality of life we enjoy. Getting ahead sometimes means so much more work, and doesn’t always feel “worth it”. Falling behind happens in an instant of thoughtless ease. Finding balance is sometimes difficult, and I sometimes sacrifice self-care on the alter of providing for others (not a healthy approach long-term).

…I am fortunate and grateful for a partnership that encourages self-care and provides mutual respect…

My Traveling Partner inquired about the towels this morning – were there more clean washcloths somewhere? I’d fallen behind on the laundry, and committed to doing that today. When I arrived home, he’d already started a load of laundry. Having help feels good. Going into the kitchen, I see dishes piled in the sink… no one thought to do the dishes while I was down sick. I frowned at the dishes while I made my coffee. I’ll get those done, too. (Definitely feeling better.) Pride of place, a sense of responsibility, and a desired quality of life tend to be enough to keep me at it, but omg, sometimes it is just much. (I will admit that one practical factor in my lifelong decision to remain child-free was my total lack of interest in doing all that work for some other human being, most especially without help!) It’s hard to take the breaks I sometimes need, to maintain my own health. Finding balance is complicated… Why is that so complicated?? I think it comes down to a couple of things: perceptions, perspective, and reality.

One perspective on a morning walk.

How we perceive things around us changes when we’re ill, or under stress, and our priorities may change in the moment. How people around us perceive things may be something we have to consider, too, depending on their needs and expectations. When we’re sick, we may care a lot less about the vacuuming, or clean kitchen counters. When we’re exhausted, we may not care at all about whether the shower is actually clean. All very human, eh? But, once we’re back at our best, those things may suddenly matter quite a lot, and begin to be something causing us stress or a sense of urgency.

…I really dislike the “catch-up cycle” after I’ve been ill; I feel like I have to get it all done immediately to make up for any allowances and accommodations I made while I was ill (a thoroughly internalized lingering consequence of growing up in a culture of misogyny that treats the unpaid labor of women as a given, and a notable bit of baggage I am still dragging around)…

A very different perspective, focused on the details.

Our perspective on the details, large and small, is a big piece of how we set our priorities. Do the dishes in the sink matter a lot – or just matter a lot to me? Is it a health concern, or just something I don’t like to see? (Some people don’t care that much about having a handful of dishes in the sink that need to be washed and put away, other people have literal break-downs over a dirty glass sitting in an otherwise clean sink. Care to guess which one I am?* Which one are you?) Sometimes, keeping an orderly house feels more like self-care than it feels like manual labor. In circumstances such as that, it’s pretty easy to “stay caught up” and handle those tasks as a sort of meditation. Things do take the time they take, though, and housekeeping workload stands in defiance of creative endeavors. Again with the challenge of finding fucking balance. I sip my coffee and laugh at myself. I do what I can. I get a lot done – often more than I think I’m capable of, because even there – my perspective may not be a close fit to reality.

What we turn our attention to, and how we think about what we perceive, changes how we understand the world around us.

…Reality always gets the last word…

When I had cats years ago, I was quite convinced that my cats didn’t do any damage to my home, and that I kept things sufficiently tidy that there was “no cat smell”. That’s perception. I felt that the benefits to having my (much loved) cats far outweighed any concerns about cleanliness or health – lots of people have, and love, cats. That’s perspective getting involved. We don’t all see the world the same way, nor do we all share the same understanding of it. Still, the world is the world – reality largely ignores our perceptions and perspectives and just does its own thing. My apartment full of cats (and many of my belongings) definitely “smelled like cats” – but I didn’t perceive it (acclimation) and didn’t understand what I didn’t see as a potential concern (lack of adequate perspective). The reality of it was unmistakable when I moved out. (As well as difficult and costly to remedy, due primarily to my lack of awareness over time.)

I’m just saying – I have a shitload of housework to catch up on, after a camping trip, several days in too much pain to do housework, and then being sick. I can chuckle over how human that is, now. It is what it is, right? Now I see the need, because my perspective has shifted with my improving state of wellness. I feel the internal pressure to make it a very high priority – putting myself at risk of poor self-care. Cycles and balance. Fuck. Adulting is hard.

…We do become what we practice…

I sigh to myself and glare into my now-cold coffee. I’ve got a to-do list ready, and it’s a long one (but I’ve got the entire weekend to work on it). It’s already time to begin again – I’ll just be over here doing my best.

*Both. I’m rather inconveniently both of those types of people with regard to the dishes. Baggage is heavy… I remind myself to put some down.

How long can you sit on hold before you feel angry? Once that point comes, when the person on the other end finally gets to your conversation, how do you feel? How do you behave? What is that experience like for you? Okay… and what is that experience like for them?

…It is a Wednesday afternoon, and a busy work day. I’m on hold as I write this…

…I’m scheduling – or trying to – an important appointment for my Traveling Partner. I’ve been on hold for awhile now (22+ minutes), following our initial exploration of available dates/times. When the Scheduler returns to the call, she’s identified an available care provider in a good timeslot, on a day we can make work. I’m grateful. Is it aggravating to wait on hold for 23 minutes to complete this task? I guess, sure, (especially considering the dreadful hold music). On the other hand, not being a dick about it and just doing the needful in a pleasant (and accepting) way resulted in a better outcome – the appointment is made, and it fits in with other scheduled plans, and isn’t at some ridiculously inconvenient time, and the person on the phone was happily willing to help me (likely in part because I wasn’t penalizing that person for the circumstances). That’s as nearly ideal as scheduling an appointment can get, is it not? Why bother being angry over it? The time it took? The fact that it was necessary at all? That seems both ridiculous and petty. (Things take the time they take.)

…Patience is sometimes easier said than done, I know…

So many healthcare providers are trying to meet too much need with too few resources. Raising patient costs doesn’t close the gap created by too few doctors, nurses, technicians, specialists, or administrative and domestic staff needed to meet the need for care in a community. Anywhere. Lashing out at someone whose job is to be helpful is not the shortest path to the desired outcome, for sure. So, I generally try to do better than that when I have to be on the phone with someone (in spite of my dislike of being on the phone, generally).

…Or in slow checkout lines…

…Or queued for some event…

…Or trying to find parking in a busy area…

…Or when I’m frustrated by something but having to also deal with another human being about something else altogether unrelated…

…Or when I’m feeling anxious and other unrelated shit seems to be going wrong “for no reason”…

I guess I’m saying that when we make room to feel our feelings, then also make a committed (mindful)(self-aware)(disciplined) effort to also behave in accordance with our understanding of our “best self”, and treat others with kindness and patience, and take steps to manage the potential volatility of our emotional experience of the moment, everything that flows from that skillfully managed moment turns out better than it would have if we’d lashed out angrily, gone to pieces, or punished the people around us for the experience we are having. Long sentence, but it is what I was hoping to communicate as a single idea. It takes practice. I know my own results vary – so I am assuming yours likely will as well. Still, we do become what we practice.

…When I practice patience, I become more patient, in a broader variety of interactions…

I took those notes while I waited on hold. I made the appointment, and moved on with my day with very little aggravation. Turned out to be a pleasant afternoon. I woke up this morning, a little early, head kind of stuffy, but generally merry and feeling okay. It’s a new day. A new opportunity to practice the practices that create a good life and healthy interactions with the people in my life. A new cup of coffee.

Ah, but how to “practice” such things could be a question, eh? I’ve got good and bad news – and it’s the same news – the “how to” is “easy”, inasmuch as it is not complicated, but it is also quite “hard”, because there is a measure of trial and error, repetition, studious self-reflection, and failures that precede new attempts, involved in practicing such things. The tl;dr is that I’ve simply got to do the thing I wish to practice in the fashion I’d like to see myself handle such things – and if I fall short, I’ve got to recognize that, acknowledge it, accept it (and any consequences), understand that failure, and keep working on it – through all the unsuccessful well-meaning attempts, and the likely lack of consistant positive reinforcement from others (because, of course, they are having their own experience). Doing better than my current best is reliably always a “work in progress”, and it’s a process of incremental change over time, which can be somewhat unsatisfying. If you change what you practice though, change itself is inevitable.

We have so many opportunities to do better. We also have a bunch of opportunities to do worse – to escalate interactions that start going wrong, to inflame emotions beyond what is appropriate, to create conflict where none existed, to hurt each other when we could be lifting each other up. We have choices. Making an effort to choose wisely in each interaction, each day, is itself a choice. What are you really going for? Where does your path lead? How do you want to be remembered?

Sometimes it’s hard to wait in line (or, to wait at all) – but the payoff is the thing we’re waiting for, the wait time itself is largely irrelevant. Sometimes it’s hard to be patient in the face of silly questions or constant interruptions when we’re trying to get something done – but the quality of those interactions are often far more important in our lives that the thing we’re focused on doing. Sometimes it’s hard to listen considerately while someone is talking – even though we asked the question being answered, and wanted the information. These are all moments that could use our best self (and more practice). I sip my coffee and think about the many times I’ve made shit so much worse than it had to be. Being entirely human, I’m likely to do that again in the future at some point – but that isn’t going to stop me from doing my best each day to be the best version of the woman in the mirror I can imagine, with what I know now. I’ll simply keep practicing. We become what we practice.

Stick with the basics – it’s a great place to start.

Make it as difficult as you want, I guess. Complicate things as much as you think you must. Telling yourself it “wasn’t your fault” or that you “couldn’t help it” when things go awry doesn’t change the fact that you had (and made) choices. I personally think it is generally a poor choice to willfully make shit worse than it has to be. It’s worthwhile to practice doing better than that. I think back to the abrupt and very final end of my second long-term relationship (and one that felt, at that time, truly committed and “forever”) – it was over circumstances that spiraled around “making things worse”, until the last thread of my affection was stretched to a breaking point, and suddenly snapped. In mere hours I went from needing to “take a minute” to calm myself, to wanting to have “a couple days alone” to think things over, to “we’re done, I’m out of here”. It probably didn’t have to go like that, but it definitely did – and it was a choice. I sit reflecting on that for some minutes, and comparing that to the way my Traveling Partner and I typically work things out together (it’s very different, and I am grateful for the effort we both put into talking and listening).

“Emotion and Reason” 18″ x 24″ acrylic w/ceramic and glow details, 2012

Choosing not to make things worse is both a choice and also a practice (if you make it one). I look out into the cloudy sky and think about emotional storms, and emotional choices, and how significant emotion is in this human experience. We are creatures of both emotion and reason, and we tend to lead with emotion, and respond to emotion before reason ever joins the conversation. That’s not a character flaw, it’s what we are. Our emotional intelligence is probably pretty critical to our success (and survival), overall (depending on how you define success, sure; my definition includes a reliable feeling of well-being and contentment).

…When I practice calm, I become a calmer person across a broader variety of experiences…

Developing one’s emotional intelligence is not as easy as saying it is an important detail. I get it. We don’t typically include such things in K-12 education (when it is most needed) in a structured informative way. Few of us grow up in families with even one emotionally intelligent adult in the household, based on my limited experience and casual observation. We don’t put much time (and probably no funding) into developing tools that can be shared with people who are seeking to do this work themselves. Like a lot of things, it’s complicated by various hidden agendas and resource limitations. When I began down this path, myself, the help I needed was sometimes not easy to find. I was fortunate to find a good therapist whose expertise was a good fit for my needs (and fortunate to be able to afford it at the time I needed it most). My reading list has some items specific to emotional intelligence (although we don’t all learn through reading). It is unfortunate that some of the best work on the topic is sometimes a bit of a slog to get through, requiring what feels like “real work”. (If I were pressed to make specific recommendations, I’d probably point to Buddha’s Brain, and Emotional Intimacy for the studious, and The Four Agreements for those looking for a quick introduction with illuminating allegories.)

…You’ll have to walk your own path, and do your own work, this is not a negotiable detail…

It’s a journey with a lot of stairs to climb…

I sit with my coffee and my thoughts awhile longer. How did I even get to this place, this morning? Oh, right, reflecting on the importance of being patient (and pleasant) while on hold trying to make an appointment for my beloved. I chuckle to myself, aware how valuable those skills are in so many day-to-day interactions. My results vary. I keep practicing. I glance at the time – it’s already time to begin again.

I woke with an old advertising slogan in my head from the 1950’s (that’s how “sticky” some of them can really be!) – “the pause that refreshes”. It’s a source of amusement for me, sometimes, how easily “repurposed” such slogans can be. This one does not immediately call to mind, for me, the originally intended beverage. Instead, this slogan reminds me that a pause before committing to action or decision-making can give me time to more carefully consider the moment. A pause can give me real rest in the midst of stress or turmoil. A pause can allow me to “reset” a difficult moment. Taking a moment to pause can allow me to pull myself back into the present moment, and to act more mindfully, with greater self-awareness. A pause can be a needed moment of self-care on a busy day.

This morning I had no idea what to write about, and earlier thoughts that seem cogent or meaningful in some share-worthy way had slipped away on the drive home from the trailhead. I took a moment to pause and reflect for a time. Handy. Here I am. 😀

It’ll be another hot day, today. My more-than-typical-for-a-summer-morning pain hints that the weather may cool off, and there may be rain coming. Suspecting my pain to be potentially misleading me with such correlations, I check the forecast. There it is – a chance of rain, two days out. Huh. I grumble a bit to myself. Pain is no super-power, and I’d rather just look at the forecast now and then than have to deal with the pain I’m in. I breathe, exhale, and relax. This human experience isn’t always a comfortable one. There are moments to embrace, and there are also moments to endure; I don’t get to choose the moment, only my reaction to it, and the steps I take to deal with it. Sometimes a pause helps me sort things out.

I sit for a moment, sipping water. It’ll be a hot day, and I’ll be out in that later on, driving to an appointment. I’m grateful to feel chilly in the AC, for now, as I sit with my thoughts. I make my choices. I walk my path. Sometimes it helps to pause and consider my options, before I begin again.

I’m sipping my coffee grateful to have it, and grateful to be done with the budgeting and payday stuff. I didn’t sleep as restfully as I’d have liked; my sleep was interrupted by my Traveling Partner (I think? Was I dreaming it?) who woke me up for some reason, in the wee hours. My sleep after that was less than ideal, restless and plagued by strange dreams of stress and failure. I woke up feeling cranky and anti-social – and I’m grateful that so far the office is empty of other voices. It’s just me, here, now. I’m good with that. I’m not really “fit for company” quite yet.

…So cranky…

I sip my coffee and find myself vexed by “what ifs” and “if onlys”, and this headache (which is reliably worse when I sleep poorly). I’m cross with myself for doing such a shitty job of adulting when I was younger, and I’m annoyed that I failed completely to “look after” my future self, from that youthful vantage point. I didn’t make much money back then… Hell, I don’t “make much money” now – just an amount that covers the expenses with some small amount left to protect against emergencies to come, and I’m grateful for it. It could be worse. I do okay these days, though I’ll never be “wealthy”. This morning, I find myself wishing and yearning and frustrated that I’m not in a very different place (for example, already retired and living contentedly in my “leisure years”, spending my hours painting, writing, reading, and gardening). These are the sorts of thoughts and feelings that often develop out of restless nights, fatigue, poor self-care, and the sour moods that result from those experiences. They aren’t any more “real” than the dreams that plagued my sleep – and certainly they have no power over me that I don’t give them myself. They are the sort of thing that can generate a fuck-ton of “second dart suffering”, or become the kernel of discontent that can later become a major meltdown or moment of drama “for no reason”. I breathe, exhale, and relax, and do my best to let that shit go. There’s no value in letting it fester.

Breathe. Exhale. Relax. Repeat as needed.

I sigh to myself. Things are not “perfect”, but they’re okay for most values of “okay”, and I’m fortunate – and grateful for my good fortune. I’m also pretty cranky, and I’ve got a headache. I work on keeping those experiences separated from each other, in my emotional experience of the moment; they are not in any way actually related to each other. Human primates are weird. When we’re cross or frustrated there’s this odd tendency to make it about “everything”, connecting dots that aren’t really connected, conflating one thing with another, and blowing shit way out of proportion over… nothing much at all. No doubt it served some evolutionary purpose intended to ensure our survival as a species, but it sure as shit isn’t very helpful now. lol

As with any choice, there are verbs involved.

I drag my consciousness back to this moment, right here. This moment in which I am 100% fine, thanks. It is an ordinary enough Friday morning, an ordinary enough summer day, the beginning of some new moment unrelated to the moments I’ve left behind – a new beginning. I’d honestly like to begin it with a damned nap – or some sort of notable relief for this fucking headache – but realistically, there’s this work day ahead of me, and I’ve got shit to do. “Nap time” is not now. I sip my coffee and remind myself that resources are always limited in this finite mortal life (for most people). It is the nature of resources to be limited. Time or money, or precious goods cultivated or dug from holes in the ground. Limits exist. So, we budget, and plan, and do our best to make all the pieces fit in our lives. It’s a very human experience.

The clock ticks off the minutes. I sigh again, frustrated by life’s limitations. Frustrated by feeling tired and cross with the world. Vexed by humanity.

…I let all that go, again

Finding a pleasant distraction in recent photographs can help lift my mood.

I flip through pictures from my camping trip to distract me from my irritability. I feel my face soften into a smile, and my shoulders relax. Some moments feel harder than they really are. We make so much of our own stress, and behave as if it is external to us. I know I can choose differently – it’s just not always easy to shift from intention to action. The effort matters quite a lot. The choices too. It’s necessary to accept that things can change – and that I can change them.

…I’m almost out of coffee…

Each time for the first time, each moment the only moment. ~Jon Kabat-Zinn

The clock ticks on. Limitations do exist. Choices and opportunities for change exist. The journey is the destination. In practical terms, I create my path as I walk it – the route is mine to choose. So… yeah. I’m cranky right now, but I can choose differently. Fuck I wish saying as much made it easier to do the verbs! There’s real effort involved, and I’d frankly rather just take a nap and begin again later… that’s not on today’s “menu”. lol It’s already time to begin again – and I’ve got choices to make, and verbs to do.

I’m sipping my coffee and beginning a new day. I got a good night’s rest, which I definitely needed, and I woke in a better mood than I was in yesterday. I’m grateful for the opportunity to reset and begin anew. The sunrise as I drove in was lovely, and the song in my head was “so loud” I finally had to put it on and just listen to it. The morning feels “infused with joy”, which is a much nicer start to the day than what yesterday had offered.

Perspective matters.

I stretch and sigh, breathe, exhale, and relax. A new day, eh? I wonder what I will do with it? Will I deliver on my commitment to myself to do just a little better at being the woman I most want to be than I did yesterday? Seems a worthy goal.

…It’s easier to make excuses than it is to practice being the person I most want to be…

The coffee is good this morning. I feel pretty well-rested and comfortable in my skin. I have a vague sense that there’s something I am supposed to do, or some errand I agreed to run, later today – but I can’t recall what it was, and I’m not certain it isn’t just some lingering artifact of various conversations about “we could do this or we could do that”. I remind myself to check with my Traveling Partner about whether he needs me to go somewhere or do something for him later today, then let the nagging sensation go in favor of focusing on this moment, now.

…He’s not even 37 miles away, but it may as well be an infinite distance viewed through the lens of how much I miss my Traveling Partner when I’m in the office. lol I’m looking forward to working from home tomorrow, leading into the weekend. I’ve got some camping preparations to make, gear to pack – Sunday I’ll head into the trees for a couple days of downtime along the Clackamas River. I’m looking forward to it. I know I’ll miss my partner even more, but I also know he’ll only ever be a short drive away, and within reach via text message, which is comforting. This downtime is important self-care, and I’m a better person generally when I get the solitary time I need. It’s a new spot for me, too – very exciting. Lots of new trails to wander, exploring the sights and my thoughts as I walk.

I breathe, exhale, and relax. I enjoy planning my upcoming camping trips, but it hardly counts as “being in the moment”. lol I pull myself back to now, because it’s already time to begin again.

Seems to be very effective so far… probably doesn’t hurt that the path is mine, and that I choose it myself.