Archives for posts with tag: The Big 5

Some mornings, particularly on weekends, I sip my coffee and catch up on the news of the world and my Facebook feed before I settle down to write. On those mornings, I also fight “taking the bait” and I do battle with invisible forces hoping to leverage the power of outrage to get my attention, and others hoping to get their hands on whatever loose change may be laying about. I’m getting better at maintaining some balance in the face of emotional triggers of all sorts as I scroll through images and words.

The need to build more resistance to emotional manipulation, for me, is pretty serious. My injury and my PTSD tend to result in a level of emotionality generally (the TBI) and volatility (the PTSD) that can make me very susceptible to emotional manipulation, emotionally evocative language and images, and it has been difficult to manage over the years. If I’m being honest, I can’t say that I “managed” it all all, with any skill or noticeable success until I started practicing mindfulness – and omg, do I ever need practice, like, all the time, every day. So human. I learned a lot about how far I’ve come, during this past election year, and I also learned a lot about how far I’ve yet to go. So… I keep practicing. I keep finding my way along life’s journey, one step at a time. The news thing is tricky; I love to read, I consume content at a high rate, I love language… and I’m a highly emotional reasoning being. I needed something helpful to rely on…

I ask myself questions that seem to help sort it all out (for me).

  1. Does this matter more to me than it did when I read the last article about this? If so, am I merely having an expected reaction to repetition?
  2. Can I verify it is 100% utterly legit, fact-checked, references cited, real no bullshit data or information?
  3. Who profits from this? (…and what does that say about the content?)
  4. Is the content original? (If it’s creator content reshared/reposted, is the creator credited?)
  5. What is my purpose in sharing this? Is it necessary?
  6. What am I going to do about it? (If this is action-worthy at all, why not just take action and share that in my own words?)

I think, generally, most of my friends also read the news – no need for me to share it to ensure they hear the latest from the same mainstream sources most of us are reading. It’s redundant – which means it is repetitive, which results in higher believability whether it has a shred of truth or not. Not helpful. If I’m angry about it – do I actually want to share that experience?  If I feel moved to share content solely on the basis of seeking “solidarity”, sharing the experience of being outraged or angry, or looking for community… wouldn’t it make so much more sense to reach out to friends directly, human being to human being, get together over a coffee, or hang out together, and really talk, really share? Sure, we’re all in this together… but using Facebook to reprogram our culture seems to be taking us all to some very strange and fairly ugly places.

I’ve gotten sucked into Facebook time and again, and wasted hours of precious limited lifetime – not connecting with friends and deepening those relationships, either, just reading the news, reading memes, scrolling through duplications and repeats, and generally filling my consciousness with the cognitive equivalent of junk food. I’ve added to the noise, reposting articles that evoke an emotional reaction without closely examining why, or even whether the content is highly accurate, and unbiased. You know what it got me? What it got all of us? The 2016 election outcome. That event has really changed my thinking about what purpose Facebook serves in my experience – and what it can do, and how it affects my quality of life, generally, as an application – because that’s all it is. It’s an app. It’s up to me to use it well, and use it wisely, and be mindful of the results I see, and the consequences of my actions.

Facebook – another opportunity to be mindful. Who knew? 🙂

I’ll hop down off my soapbox. It’s a gray, cold, wintry Saturday morning. WordPress notes that it’s been 4 years here, sharing, practicing, walking my own mile. My coffee is done. The morning has begun. Thanks for being here.

Today is a good day to live life in real-time, with real people, in physical space. I think I’ll go do that. 🙂

Heading home in the cold last night, walking from the office to the light rail station, I crossed the square. As I walked toward the train platform, I passed a tall man carrying a flower-print duffel bag, wearing an expression of fatigue and sadness. I kept walking. I noticed the woman hurrying to catch up with him, a moment later. Then she started screaming. A plaintive wail, “no!”. “No! No no no!” She wailed. She screamed it at him, pulling what looked like a sleeping bag around her shoulders. She began to run after him, shrieking, wailing, crying into the night, and to all the passers-by “no!!!”. It was not anger that made her voice so distinctive and alarming, it was the pure raw grief and hurt and fear – real panic, the sort of thing one expects to hear in the midst of warfare, or violence. She sounded desperate, terrified, and bereft. The wails continued as she ran after the man. He walked on calmly without looking back. I turned and watched the scene move away from me, feeling helpless. There was no obvious action to take. The woman was blind to everyone and everything around her, except that man walking away. The only sign he was aware of her at all was that they had been sitting together, when I saw them from a distance, and also… a flower-print duffel bag is an odd thing for a man his age to be carrying, generally. Her screaming haunted my sleep. I don’t know what happened. I don’t know how her story ends. I feel ashamed that I didn’t do more, but don’t know what I could have done under the circumstances. I feel puzzled by the seeming lack of awareness of everyone around, that evening… I saw no heads turn but my own.  Bystanders, each and all of us. What a shitty situation for a woman screaming “no”, alone in the night. I’d like to have been more helpful. It is still on my mind this morning.

I sip my coffee and think about how this experience is so telling of who I am now, where I am in life as a human being. I spend a few minutes noticing that I actually do care, even about the isolated distress of a stranger I passed in the night. I wasn’t always this person. I sip my coffee, and think about other times, when I was the one screaming and afraid, without help, alone in the darkness… I think about people who might have heard me, who may have wanted to do… something, but… what? I feel grateful that my life is calm and quiet these days. I take a moment to appreciate having survived some terrible dark nights. I make room to forgive the passing strangers who did not help, because they did not know how. That’s a step forward, for me. I feel the weight of a little more baggage drop to the floor. It hits with an imagined thud, and the realization that I can also forgive myself for being unable to figure out what to do last night, to help a stranger in distress.

It's okay to put some of that down, for now.

It’s okay to put some of that down, for now.

I take one more moment to wish a stranger well, after-the-fact, and to hope she found some peace, somehow, and some comfort. I hope she found a moment she could be okay in. “Not my circus, not my monkeys…” Well, sure… but… also… we’re all human beings. Each having our own experience. Separating myself, generally, from drama doesn’t have to also make me a dick to people, or insensitive, or callous, or cruel. Compassion, kindness, consideration are all still within reach, still important to cultivate, still matter. I’m no super hero – I barely adult adequately well to support my own life, some of the time – but I can still care, and still be kind, and still open my heart to listen deeply to another. Those still matter, even if I can’t save the world. Even if I can’t stop all of the screaming, everywhere.

Today is a good day to be awake, aware, and considerate. It’s a good place to begin. It could be enough to change the world… with some practice.

 

It started snowing moments ago. I wasn’t certain I was seeing actual snowflakes, since these were scooting past my window sideways, and there weren’t many flakes. There is clear sky overhead, gaps in heavy thunder-storm-y clouds. Flakes. Then no flakes. Well, damn it – is it snowing or isn’t it? Just as I decide that yes, it is snowing… it stops. The weather continues to toy with me, as I sip my coffee, and gaze out into the morning sky.

There are circumstances in which our choices make a great deal of immediate obvious difference, and others in which it’s not clear what difference any choice of ours might make, at all. On this strange winter morning, I smile recognizing that no amount of fussing over whether or not it is showing makes any difference whatever to the weather, itself. Really… no choice of mine ever does. I mean… we’re talking about the weather, here. Oh. Wait. Climate change. Maybe choices of mine do affect the weather… only… not immediately, and not in an obvious way…?  Right. Choices do matter. The snow stops and starts a couple more times as I consider the impact of my human behavior on the weather, over time, and the questions of “what counts as change?” and “what counts as being affected by me?” I chuckle quietly over the way scale can sometimes change a question, an answer, or the apparent circumstances. (One person spitting on my patio does not count as a rainstorm… on the other hand… dozens of people spitting on my patio may not be a rainstorm, but the gross mess they’ve made is certainly still going to seem significant in one or more ways. lol)

The snow stops. The snow starts. As snow storms go, it’s not particularly impressive. Just tiny flakes of sky dancing quickly past my window, never pausing to land anywhere.

If all goes according to plan, I’ll see my Traveling Partner today. It’s my last day of holiday time away from the office. Tomorrow… a new year, and a return to the office. I am more eager than hesitant, which says good things about the job, and confirms I’ve gotten the restful break from it that I needed. I pause, thinking about plans and planning. Today will be a good one for checking the calendar for the year-to-come and ensuring that I plan out sufficient out of office time to maintain wellness, and momentum. I make a note on my “to do list” so I don’t forget.

A new day, suitable for beginning again.

A new day, suitable for beginning again.

The snow stops. The few clouds still overhead are edged in gold as the sun rises. The snow starts again. Just scattered flakes on the wind, of no real consequence. I wonder how the weather is on my partner’s side of town? Yesterday the mild weather I was out in didn’t extend to his side of town at all; roads over there were frozen, driveways icy, and travel ideally avoided. My thoughts continue toward wondering if he’ll really make it over today… It’s a nice moment, I feel fond awareness that his safety matters, and that I would not struggle with painful disappointment if he should change his plans, today. Disappointment, sure, but not of that painful sort over which drama erupts, just garden variety minor “ah, well, another time then” disappointment, after which one simply moves on with the day quite contentedly, still smiling and feeling safely secure in the awareness that the change in circumstances and plan do not in any way change the amount of affection or high regard we have for each other. There are other days.

A mostly blue sky is revealed overhead as I finish off the final sips of my morning coffee, and no snow flakes. Birds of prey coast on air currents high above the tree tops. A small flock of doves is gathered under the bird feeder. They seem content with the morning, so far. So am I.

Sometimes "enough" doesn't require much.

Sometimes “enough” doesn’t require much.

I woke to a drizzly rainy winter day of the sort that characterizes our winters here; wet. Gray, chilly, and wet. If I were to cross the meadow on foot, walking on apparently firm ground covered in grass, it would squish under my feet, yielding, soggy, unsteady, the entire length and breadth of the park. Bare branches reaching for the sky loom uncertainly over expanses of green meadow grass, interrupted by swaths of taller growth that has fallen to winter, now brown, and beaten down by passing showers. Everywhere little birds perch, sharing their observations with one another. The feeders are full, and the nearest pine has a large-ish red-wing blackbird letting his buddies know breakfast is on. So far no surprises; it is a rather ordinary winter day.

My night was restless. I woke often. I returned to sleep with relative ease each time. I was up past midnight, waiting for the change of the calendar (for no reason other than to see 2016 end in a clear way, and see the calendar “begin again” before calling it a night). Sleeping in wasn’t really about getting more sleep – just the usual more-or-less-enough quantity. When I did get up, I was acutely aware of how groggy I was, and dithered briefly over whether to return to sleep yet again… coffee won that round. 🙂

My coffee is hot and bitter on my tongue this morning, a rather amusing state of things (most particularly since my sense of taste isn’t particularly sensitive to “bitter” in the first place); I like coffee. I ignore the bitterness. There’s a metaphor in there, somewhere…

It is a new year…one of those grand sorts of moments on which to begin something that makes it a very appealing starting point for some things… which tends also to result in a higher than usual rate of “fuck it” reactions to things begun, and failed, rather than the more productive “begin again” that I so generally favor. I smile to myself as I consider that puzzle. Are new beginnings best unstated, without a firm noteworthy, calendar worthy, starting point? Or is that an illusion? Does it matter at all, or is the question itself a distraction from actually beginning… anything?

I sit quietly, sipping my coffee, listening to the rain tap on the eaves, and watching the birds come and go from the feeder. All over the world, today, and rather impressively, a huge quantity of human beings are beginning things. New diets are being started. New exercise and fitness routines are commencing. New skills are being learned. Old habits are being abandoned in favor of new ones. Promises and commitments are being made, full of hope and enthusiasm. Relationships are being strengthened. Boundaries are being set. Daydreams are becoming plans. Plans are becoming actions. Today, a huge quantity of human beings, across many nations and cultures, are reaching out for their future, grabbing the edge of it, and pulling it closer. For a few days, the full might of human will can be seen in the magnitude of humanities dreams, goals, and desires… Powerful.

Resolutions don’t work for you? They don’t “work” for me, either. It’s a lifelong habituation associating the word “resolution” with slow failure, with giving up, with a lack of change, I suspect – more to do with the word, than with my will. It’s almost a given; if I label my intent with the heading of “resolution” at the start of the new year, I am most likely going to give up on it fairly quickly, lacking any clear idea why the endeavor failed. Silly primate – choose another word, then choose some damned verbs. 🙂 There is effort involved in bringing our will to life as an outcome. Verbs. Practice. Beginning again. So… I don’t do “new year’s resolutions” at all. I begin again nearly every day – on something. I’ll begin some things today, too. No “resolutions”.

I’ll recommit to things that matter, and with which I struggle to make progress.

I’ll embrace positive changes, with careful consideration, choosing different verbs, and practicing often.

I’ll let go of some old baggage – as much as I can figure out how to set down.

I’ll give thought to my daydreams, and look for opportunities to shift from dreaming to planning.

I’ll make a point to seek out events and activities that I’ll enjoy (alone or in good company) and set calendar reminders to get tickets, and make adjustments to my budget that account for the things I want to enjoy.

I’ll continue to practice the practices that improve my quality of life – and my ability to recognize how good it generally is.

There are quite a few verbs involved in becoming the woman I most want to be, in nurturing my best qualities, and the best qualities of the human beings around me, and in reaching whatever goals I set for myself. I’ll probably fall short of my own expectations now and then, or simply fail to succeed at some task or another. I’ll continue to be quite human all through the coming year.

I’ll begin again, as often as necessary. No “resolutions” required. 🙂 2017? We’ve got this! 😉

I woke this morning during the wee hours, which is not unusual. I went back to sleep, not terribly rare either. I even managed to sleep in, wrapped in comfort and contentment, drifting among pleasant dreams, even sleeping through the bzz-bzz of the good morning greeting from my Traveling Partner when his message reached my fitness tracker. Sleeping in felt so good… right up to that point at which a neighbor’s idling vehicle in the parking lot woke me. It’s not my favorite way to wake up, but my coffee is tasty, and the day has begun. 🙂

A first look at a misty morning

A first look at a misty morning

My calendar is empty today. No appointments, no plans, no events, nothing whatever actually scheduled happens to be happening today (for me). Interesting. The morning is foggy, most of the view beyond the window softened to an indistinct gray-scale beyond the meadow, a bit as if the day itself just hasn’t been formed quite yet. Clearly, I am awake too early; the day is not yet even created! I sip my coffee, smiling at the whimsical image of each day being truly formed anew from components of reality.

The view beyond the meadow

The view beyond the meadow

The lack of notation on a calendar page is no indicator of what the day is worth, nor a limitation on where it may take me. A painting is not often made of a single brush stroke. There are moments ahead, choices, actions, thoughts, details… The details add up, and when I look back from a later vantage point, the day will likely be filled with them. Will I make today another success with my current dietary restrictions? Perhaps a list of chores will be written, checked off, and my quality of life improved thereby? Will I finish the book I am reading? Will I start another? Will I spend minutes or hours meditating? Will a fire crackle merrily in the fireplace on a chilly winter day? Will I hike many miles and return home tired, smiling, and eager to enjoy a leisurely hot shower? Will I try a new recipe for chicken? Will I see birds and squirrels at the feeder? What emotions will characterize my experience, today? If I choose poorly and find myself mired in some unpleasant moment, how will I deal with that? All choices. Each choice matters in some moment. The moments add up.

There is something marvelous about choice, and choices; however things may be going, I can choose differently any time, and change my experience. 🙂

Today is a good day to consider, and a good day to choose. We become what we practice. It’s enough. 🙂