Archives for posts with tag: The Big 5

Practical Details

July 20, 2020 //

I’m fairly glad the weekend is over. I wasn’t at my best. Yesterday started beautifully, went sideways early, stayed fairly difficult for some time afterward, and was not especially satisfying. It was a cool summer morning, and a very hot summer day. It didn’t cool off enough during the night to get the house below 72 degrees, even with all the windows thrown wide open to the night air. I slept badly. I stubbed my toe as I was getting up this morning. I’ve got a stiff neck, and my coffee tastes like dirt. lol Wow. I could zoom in on what a “shitty morning” this “is”, too… only… It isn’t. It’s just a morning. A blank slate on a new day. A new beginning. There’s more to this new day than a small handful of sour moments, wrong notes, and grumpiness. So many good things are happening this week!

A good thing? A bad thing? Sometimes things are just things; we add the judgement.

I sip my fairly terrible dirt-tasting coffee with more contentment than I can describe with words. I’m okay with today, so far. The gray sky is not bringing me down. The reluctantly partially cooled house isn’t not a deterrent on my good mood. My stiff neck will likely ease as the morning wears on. It’s a work day, and my Traveling Partner is here to take care of meeting with contractors and delivery people; I’m free to focus on work. My desk is very tidy and ready for the day, the result of the work I did in the studio, yesterday; it was the last room to get completely unpacked.

I was overly-sensitive yesterday, prone to taking things personally, and mired in emotional moments – but I still got things done, and I didn’t seek to punish myself for my humanity. I let the tears fall. I got over them. I’m fortunate to have a nurturing, care-giving, partnership of equals built on love – but I also recognize how hard my bullshit is on my partner. I sip my coffee wondering if he is also glad yesterday is behind us? He still sleeps – will he wake eager for the new day? I hope he does.

I hear a car alarm somewhere in the distance, quickly silenced. The sky is lighter now, as day approaches. I make room in my morning for gratitude, for new beginnings, and for contentment and sufficiency. I remind myself of things I want to get done, calls I want to make, and plans for the day. I finish this coffee. It’s already time to begin again. 🙂

Tags be here now, be the change, begin again, breathe, choose wisely, emotional self sufficiency, good self-care, hot summer no A/C, I am my own cartographer, life in the time of pandemic, listening deeply, love and lovers, MBSR, mindfulness matters, moving in and moving on, my results vary, p.s. I love you, perspective, practicing the practices, ptsd, relationships, some boxes contain baggage, sufficiency, summer days, taking care of me, The Art of Being, The Big 5, there are verbs involved, unpacking boxes, walking my own path, we become what we practice, what matters most?

Categories Allegories, Brain Injury, Despair, forgiveness, Free Will, Frustration, gratitude, Mindfulness, Moments, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, Summer, The Art of Being, The Big 5

The Parable of the Reading Glasses

July 18, 2020 //

I am afflicted with nearsightedness. I’ve worn glasses since that was first identified. I’ve chosen not to explore wearing contact lens, in part because the process of putting them in and taking them out is deeply creepy (to me, personally), and I am overly sensitive about things in/on/near my eyes. So, glasses are part of my life. I put them on first thing when I wake, and they are the last thing I take off when I go to bed at night. My vision is sufficiently poor that I can’t see more than blurs, smudges, and vague shapes without them, although I have, sometimes, chosen to read without my glasses, in recent years, because it seems “just as good” or “better than” reading with my glasses on.

I got tri-focals to account for the variations in my vision at various distances (reading, “near-ish”, and far off). My tri-focals seem “good enough”, generally. I have “reading glasses” for reading and using the computer, too; the sliver of close-up reading lens in the wee round glasses I favor is so slim and narrow that it’s actually rather hard to get the angle of my head and the position of my glasses “just right” to take advantage of it. I don’t mostly notice. My neck notices. My back notices. My more frequent headaches tell me about it.

…My Traveling Partner tells me about it, too. Watching me hunched over my phone squinting to read the small print is uncomfortable. Seeing me perched on the edge of my office chair, leaned in close to my computer monitor, still squinting to read the screen is frustrating after years of pointing out that my posture is affected, which affects my pain, which affects my mood, which affects our interactions, which affects our relationship… He’s reminded me a number of times recently to see my eye doctor, get my eyes re-examined, and get new glasses. It’s clear to both of us that I need them. I reliably mumble something about getting that taken care of “soon”. It’s not intended as a brush-off; he’s right. I need new glasses.

…There’s so much shit to get done “in life, generally”… I don’t intend as an excuse, it’s more intended as discontented, frustrated grumbling. I’m “so tired”… That, however, is not an accurate statement of being, even in a subjective way. It’s my short-cut for communicating that there seems too much to do to get it all done “now”. Isn’t that always the case? “Now” is such a brief (and endless) moment… how I allow myself to see “now” as a duration of time definitely influences how much I feel I can do with it. My body and my mind want and need me to “really rest” – it’s been a busy few days. Conflating that with “life” can derail a lot of things I’d like to get done.

…I definitely need to see my eye doctor and get new glasses…

I found my reading glasses, and now, like an absent-minded little old lady (Am I she? So soon?), I hang them from the front of my shirt, switching when needful. Trying to, anyway. I forget. I also wander around still wearing reading glasses while I attempt to do other things than reading… with my regular glasses now hanging from the front of my shirt. lol

There really is something to learn here. It’s about more than the glasses. It’s about the self-care, and also the loving interactions affected when our self-care is poor. It’s about managing time, and about self-awareness. There are lessons to be learned from reading glasses… whether I use them, or lose them while they hang from the front of my shirt, because I’ve forgotten that they are there. Without them, I don’t see the world clearly. Choose the wrong pair, and there’s no real improvement. Time, timing, distance, purpose… there are things to consider, even beyond the obvious self-care elements; the glasses I wear become part of the face I turn to the world, and even facilitate the quality of my interactions with others (however indirectly).

…Sometimes “small” concerns are bigger than we can easily hold in our awareness moment to moment…

This morning I sip my coffee, reading glasses on, tri-focals hanging from the front of my shirt, writing, and giving thought to the day ahead. “What will I want to see?”, “Which glasses suit that need best?”, and lastly “Who in town does glasses that is covered by my insurance?” (New address means, in many cases, new care providers.) One more sip of this now-cold coffee, before I make a second cup, sit down to enjoy my partner’s good company, and begin the day (again).

Tags be here now, begin again, blurred vision, can you see the real me?, choose wisely, eye doctor doctor, get glasses, good self-care, I am my own cartographer, I see what you mean, love and lovers, mindfulness for beginners, narrow lenses, perspective, practicing the practices, reading glasses, seeing is believing, seeing with new eyes, sufficiency, taking care of me, The Art of Being, The Big 5, there are verbs involved, try-focal, we become what we practice, what matters most?

Categories Allegories, Free Will, Healthy Living, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Parables, Perspective, Practices, Relationships, Summer, The Art of Being, The Big 5

Politics Over Coffee

July 12, 2020 //

It is the Sunday before a Monday – the Monday that I return to work, after taking time off to move, actually. I woke peculiarly early on a day I could have slept in. My Traveling Partner was also up early. We enjoyed our coffee together, listening to jazz, and discussing politics in a genial, civil way. We disagree about some things, small details mostly, and it’s rather pleasant to share, discuss, and acknowledge those differences without a shit-storm of drama or ire. Reasonable people, discussing things in a reasonable way. 🙂 Nice start to a Sunday.

In most regards, today, specifically, is a day I’ll use to “get back on track” with various routine matters of home-care and quality of life management. I’ll do some basics that generally “feel like” Sunday to me, personally. I’ll take out the trash (making a point to empty all the little waste baskets that sit conveniently in every room), and the recycling (making a point to break down any recent boxes that have arrived in the past day or two, preventing those from piling up unattractively). I’ll double-check that the pantry is well-stocked, and make a list of things that are running low or gone; I may not go to the store on a Sunday, but I like to have a list ready. Today, on this particular Sunday, I’ll also log into all my work tools, here in my new studio/office, and make sure that I have reliable connectivity, and that my tools and equipment are wholly set up and ready-to-go for what will likely be a very busy week. I’ve made little notes for myself, too, and these I’ll add to my Sunday “to do list”, too, there are various small useful errands on little notes in my notebook (we did not have connectivity for nearly two weeks, so a lot got written down on paper). One of those notes reminds me “write a blog post”, and so, of course, I do… 🙂

Most of my lists are simply practical reminders of what I’d like to get done. I carry a wee Rite in the Rain notebook, tucked in my purse, or a pocket, for convenience. 🙂

I sip my coffee, eyeing the worn rather old etched slate coaster on my desk. It’s been thoroughly cleaned since the move, but looks perpetually dirty. The worn inelegant surface hints at many years of use. The thin crack that runs across the surface suggests it has been kept for some reason beyond function or aesthetics. I smile. It reminds me of my Granny. It came from her kitchen. “Can I have this one?” I’d asked, on a visit to her home on Frenchtown Rd, many years ago (1997?). “Sure, Sweetie.” She’d replied with an indulgent smile. I didn’t expect it to be my last visit. I’m sure she didn’t either. We are mortal creatures, and our lives are finite, each moment precious. I find myself tearing up a bit, wishing sentimentally she had lived to see my Traveling Partner and I moved into our home together. She would have been so pleased for us. There’s even room for her to have visited, quite comfortably…

A souvenir of “home” – or, at least, of the places I come from.

The open window beyond my desk doesn’t have much of a “view”, and I already love the view it does have. It functions a bit as a “blank page” for writing, and has few “distractions” or features to draw my eye inadvertently. The two rather poorly pruned pear trees dangle fruit-laden branches over the new fence. I smile, even at the less-than-ideally leveled fence boards. Our neighbors replaced the falling down fence between our yards the very week we moved in. It’s clear they had not built a fence before. Funny that the quirks of this new fence provide more kind humor than irritation, for me. The neighbors are pleasant kind people, and the community is very welcoming. This new place already feels like home. In short, I like it here, and I love this house. 🙂 I expect I’ll spend many contented hours writing, and painting. (The closet in my studio is filled with stored art. I chuckle to myself at the possibility that what stops me painting, often, is more to do with having so many laying about than any lack of inspiration in the moment. LOL)

A closet full of paintings, neatly stacked by size. Some will hang, some will sell, some will linger waiting for their moment.

I finish the last sip of my now-cold coffee, and think over the day ahead. I hear my Traveling Partner call my name from somewhere else in the house; we’re still not used to having the extra bit of room that makes trying to talk to each other from different spaces sort of silly. I smile. It’s time to begin again.

Tags be here now, be love, begin again, choose wisely, civil discourse, emotional self sufficiency, experience, home is where the art is, love and lovers, Love First, mindfulness, mindfulness matters, moving in and moving on, my home my rules my way, p.s. I love you, perspective, practicing the practices, ptsd, relationships, sufficiency, taking care of me, taking time for me, talking politics, TBI, The Art of Being, The Big 5, there are verbs involved, walk on, walking my own path, we become what we practice, what matters most?

Categories Allegories, Brain Injury, Free Will, gratitude, Healthy Living, inspiration, Logic & Reason, Love, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, Summer, The Art of Being, The Big 5

What Matters Most?

July 10, 2020 //

Shouldn’t “embracing change” be easier than this? Is “easy” not actually “a thing”? Questions over coffee, on an overcast summer morning. My mind wanders unproductively between sips. The coffee is good, and that’s enough for this moment, right here.

I was sitting barefooted, cross-legged, in a favorite chair (the only comfortable chair in the new living room, presently… more room in the new house, same amount of furniture), on a morning so quiet I imagined I heard my Traveling Partner sigh as he woke, in another room. It’s a quiet house (so quiet!), and it seems unlikely that I actually heard the soft sound of his sigh, over my aquarium and my tinnitus. He approached a moment later, wearing his “just woke up” face. I offer to make coffee, and we share that. It is, generally speaking, a pleasant moment on a summer morning. I pretend, for the purposes of joy and love, that I’m not in the pain I’m in. I make room to be kind, and to listen, and to offer whatever support I can; he’s in pain, too. It’s been 10 days of fairly intense labor, getting moved out of the rented duplex, and into our home. For reasons of pandemic, and limiting exposure, we handled almost all of every bit of it ourselves, instead of hiring movers. I’m not sure I still think that was a great idea. lol

It was 10 days trying to get the internet set up. I wrote in the mornings, anyway. 🙂

“Home”. Damn, that sounds nice. I let the sound of it roll around in my thoughts contentedly for some moments. I find it so important to savor the successes – small, large, and in between. What I am suggesting is really taking time with those successes, enjoy and appreciate them, linger over their memory, and invest more of my cognitive and emotional bandwidth in that enjoyment and awareness, than I do in fussing over what didn’t work, or worked out uncomfortably or with problematic other outcomes. That “negativity bias” can really become an emotional wound, over time, swallowing up all the joy, and all the fun. Having a home of our own is a major milestone in our life together, and for me, in my own life as an individual human being. Huge win. Definitely needful to celebrate that. 🙂

I sip my coffee and look out the window of my new studio/office space here. I see the neighbor’s new fence, two pear trees, branches laden with young fruit hanging over the fence, and the cream-colored wall of their house just beyond. I see a sliver of gray sky. The neighbors – and neighborhood – are very pleasant, and very welcoming. Every new conversation begins in a similar way, with an apologetically, charmingly awkward excuse for not shaking hands or offering a hug; the pandemic is still a thing (very much so) in America.

…I hear my Traveling Partner call to me. As he wakes, his pain is more well-managed (mine, too, it seems very human). I want to hang out… I want to write. It’s been a while. There’s much to say, much to share. I think. Maybe. I mean… you’re here, reading, I should make that worth your while, yes? 😉 Perhaps, for now, this is enough?

Perspective, or view? What matters most? What is “enough”? Where does joy come from?

I sip my coffee. Finish my writing. I begin again.

Tags be here now, be love, begin again, don't forget to take care of yourself, emotional self sufficiency, experience, finding my way home, good self-care, home is where my heart is, home is where the art is, life in the time of pandemic, listening deeply, love and lovers, MBSR, mindfulness matters, moving in, moving on, moving out, p.s. I love you, pain management, perspective, practical application of The Big 5, ptsd, relationships, sleeping and waking, sufficiency, taking care of me, TBI, The Big 5, there are verbs involved, very human, walking my own path, we are capable of more than we know, we become what we practice, what matters most?, where is home?

Categories Allegories, forgiveness, Free Will, gratitude, health, Healthy Living, Love, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, pain, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, Summer, The Art of Being, The Big 5

Taking Care

June 27, 2020 //

I’m awake. I’m groggy. I’m drinking coffee. My calendar is full. My list of things to do seems as long as it has been for days. We’re definitely moving. In past moves, this is the part of moving when the self-care tasks fall by the wayside, and I typically find myself trapped in a cycle of “overdrive” and exhaustion, working unrelentingly until I collapse for minutes or hours, then back at it for every minute I can squeeze out of this fragile meat-based machinery, until fatigue finally nails me to a bed, a couch, or the floor, and I sleep for a few hours, and repeat the process day after day until the move is completed. Then, I spend days feeling disrupted, moody, bewildered, and overwhelmed, as I get used to a new place. Bleh. It’s not fun, but it’s “worked okay” for me, for many values of “okay”, generally. It’s often simply what I’ve had to work with, or perhaps I just didn’t understand it could be done very differently?

New day, new move, and a very different plan. My Traveling Partner keeps me self-care focused (“Hey, you’ve been out here working in the sun for awhile, are you drinking enough water? Have you taken a break?””Have you eaten something today?”). We each work on the things we’ve committed to with real purpose. We take time together to chill, to play, to laugh, to consume comfortable amounts of media content, and to enjoy each other. Hell, I even slept restfully last night, and woke at a fairly normal time this morning! He woke in a good mood, himself (we’re both fairly grumpy, many mornings, until we sort ourselves out and are properly awake). This move doesn’t just feel “different” – it feels good. 😀

I sip my coffee and look at my list. Nodding to myself, I double-check the details (“when does the donation drop-off open, today?”). My Traveling Partner comes into the studio, and says something pleasant, and rubs my neck for a few minutes, and reminds me about my posture without nagging. He puts on music in the other room, and I feel myself beginning to really wake up for the day ahead. There’s so much to do, and in a practical sense, with all the paperwork out of the way, the real work “begins” – building on the real work we’ve been doing for weeks, boxing and packing things. I smile to myself. There are certainly a lot of verbs involved, and this time? This time, those include self-care verbs, and verbs to do with love and loving, and shared verbs – so many shared verbs. It feels good to have my Traveling Partner’s help with this move. The last couple had some fairly poignant lonely moments (his, for him, too, I know). This feels very different.

My smile turns to a grin, and I feel filled with joy. It’s already time to begin again. 😀

Tags be kind, be love, be the change, begin again, breaking bad cycles, breathe, choose wisely, emotional self sufficiency, good self-care, having a plan, listening deeply, love and lovers, MBSR, p.s. I love you, perspective, practice good self-care, practicing the practices, relationships, set and manage expectations, sufficiency, taking care of me, The Art of Being, The Big 5, the map is not the world, there are verbs involved, we become what we practice, we're only human, what matters most?, work together

Categories Free Will, gratitude, Healthy Living, Love, Mindfulness, Moments, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, Summer, The Art of Being, The Big 5

Practical Details

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The Parable of the Reading Glasses

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Politics Over Coffee

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What Matters Most?

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Taking Care

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