Archives for posts with tag: the map is not the world

I’m up earlier than I need to be; it’s Saturday and I could sleep in. Only… I’m awake, so… that isn’t happening. πŸ™‚ Being attached to that outcome (sleeping in) has messed up so many beautiful mornings on which I earnestly wanted to sleep longer and couldn’t. I think, generally, I’ve let that go. It feels pretty good to be awake, okay with being awake, and simply enjoying the additional minutes or hours of the day.

The treeline obscured by fog; I assume the world exists beyond although I can't see it.

The treeline obscured by fog; I assume the world exists beyond although I can’t see it.

Last night was strange. I was not in the mood for company at all, and by the time I got home all I wanted was the peace and stillness of solitude. I started a fire in the fireplace, and sat down with a rare treat – a glass of sherry.

Just as my nerves started to unwind, and I began to relax into a state of lasting contentment, the smoke alarm went off. Okay, startling, but I silence it and settle down. It goes off again. The room does not appear to be smokey at all. I silence the alarm. I sit down, pick up a book. Smoke alarm. Okay, damn it, this is bullshit and I begin to feel agitated. It was an effort to pause the fast-building rage that is my purely animal reaction to frustration. I open windows, doors, and turn on fans. Clearly the smoke detector thinks there is smoke… why don’t I?

I step outside into the cool rainy night air, and breathe deeply; it is by far fresher than the air in the apartment. Okay… maybe there’s something to this? I look out into the night, it doesn’t seem any clearer… I turn and look back into the apartment, still not seeing “smoke” at all. I go inside and head for the little cloth I use to clean my glasses. Ah. Yep. That’s it; my glasses are so smudgy I couldn’t see that the air in the apartment wasn’t entirely clear – it was, in fact, a bit “smoggy”. Well shit. I keep airing out the apartment, feeling a bit aggravated – why tonight? I take time to sit down directly in front of the fireplace to watch it crackle away merrily – it cares not one bit about smoke alarms. I listen to the wind and wonder if it might be preventing the smoke from going up the chimney? Then I notice that the flue lever is much farther “open” than I generally open it, and also that reliable small curls of actual smoke are indeed rolling past the opening of the fireplace and into the room. So, while not billowing out in a definite noticeable way, there has definitely been smoke making it into the room since the fire got started. (Hey – smoke alarm, I’m sorry I was mad at you; you were right.)

Adjustments made, rooms aired out, windows returned to their closed position, fans turned off, alarm silenced… I can sit down, breathe, and relax. Well. I can choose to. I can make the effort. I can begin again. I can also quietly sit until the evening feels quite late, before being overcome by fatigue and calling it a night. Aside from dealing with the smoke alarm, I really didn’t do anything last night. It was exactly what I wanted out of my evening. No television. No music. No people. No fuss. No media news. No conversation. No. Just no. None. Not any. Only the quiet, my glass of sherry, and the stillness.

It was quite lovely, once I finally got to really settle down. I make a point of remembering that I did get to settle down and relax, quiet, content, without stress or fussing – and it’s important that I do that, because as I wrote about all the rest, all the rest became more prominent in my memory, reinforced in the telling. Amusing anecdotes about stressful things can work like that, too; we tell the tale, and it becomes the larger part of our recollection. It is one of the terrible truths of PTSD; the more our trauma haunts us, the more prominent the recollection of it becomes, the more significant in our implicit memory, the more “real” – even compared to other factually real events and experiences that may be going on now. Yikes. So, this morning I make a point, once the tale is told, to also savor the portion of the evening that followed, because the stillness and contentment can be a bigger portion of my experience, if I choose it to be so. Verbs. Choices. Practice. I enjoy the stillness more than the stress.

I’ve no idea what today holds. It is the weekend, and my traveling partner is far away. There is no chance we’ll see each other today. I’m okay with that; although I miss him, I’ve been needing some reliable consistent quiet, and have been struggling to create that within myself in his company. There has been so much busy-ness in my calendar (and my life) since I returned to work: a visit from my step-son, a couple of parties, my traveling partner coming and going a bit more than usual, OPD, a new work routine, a new commute… Every detail of my everyday life was completely overturned when I returned to work. Life has been so busy – and so social – I’ve been left with no time to sort it all out. The timing of my partner’s trip in this instance could not be better. πŸ™‚

I still miss him, greatly, and it is one source of my background stress. I’d very much like to have a living arrangement in which he could come and go utterly freely without concern. Another source of my increasing background stress is my commute; it consumes 10 hours a week of my precious limited lifetime. The transit portion of that commute is rarely pleasant, and puts me constantly at risk of illness. I make a point of living close to work for a reason, and that reason is that I dislike wasting my life commuting. I want that time back! By itself, this is not a big contributor to my stress, it’s a small thing; it drives thinking about moving, though, which causes me major stress.

Mist obscures the autumn skyline of the trees on the far side of the park. I assume they are still there.

Perspective matters. Letting go of attachment helps. 

I remind myself “this too shall pass”. I breathe. Relax. Sip my coffee, and look out across the meadow, into the misty morning; I will have to give up this view in favor of another. More upheaval. My anxiety kicks in, and I breathe through it. This will be something to face, to deal with, and to process for months to come… and that’s okay too. I feel things, and I have tools to process my feelings. πŸ™‚

Today is a good day to consider what I have, what I need, and what I’d choose to change. Today is a good day to embrace that change and make wise choices. Today is a good day to begin again.

This morning the minutes slip away as I consider my next move. I dislike moving, but the lease here is up just a bit more than 90 days from now. It’s time to give the matter some thought.

I woke on time, and as was the case yesterday, feeling a bit groggy. This morning’s okay though, as was yesterday, and I’ll get through the day just fine on the rest I got. I’m still feeling some stress, but I am also more aware that some of that is simply circumstances forcing my attention onto the need to move, again. I dislike moving. I sometimes find it difficult to enjoy traveling. I like to feel “at home”, safe, secure, and content. I can’t recall if this is something that has “always” been characteristic of my sense of self, or a newer thing, or the “why” of it.

One thing I know, although it took me a long time to figure it out; “home” is something I build for myself, and I can do that almost anywhere, given an opportunity to settle in and do so. I’ll probably grieve this lovely safe space 100 times before I ever actually move, but it’s not the building I’m attached to, nor is it the address, or the location, or the community – it’s the home I’ve made for myself here. I can do that again, someplace new. I even know that I enjoy and find deep satisfaction in that process of home making. I just dislike the process of moving. πŸ™‚

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“Home” moves with me, even my garden waits in pots for a different arrangement, in another place.

This year the holidays will be lean and carefully managed in order to prepare logistically for a comfortable move. If I am ready to buy, and find the right little place, that’ll be the thing – if not, I’ll find a suitable rental nearer to work, and get back some of the time in my day while I look for a more permanent residence, something that suits my needs, and those of my traveling partner. I feel some of the anxiety and stress recede with a few moments of internal planning dialogue.

Today is a good day to remember that I am my own cartographer, and this journey really doesn’t have a map – or a destination. Today is a good day to plan, and to let go of attachment to places – and planning, too. Change is. Impermanence is, too. I’m okay right now. πŸ™‚

The rain continues to fall. I’m okay with that. I play songs that seem relevant to the experience of the rainy morning I’m enjoying. Songs thatΒ remind me to “be like water“, and songs that are “on the nose” and songs that areΒ metaphorical.

Being a student is a good beginning, generally.

Being a student is a good beginning, generally.

I’m enjoying the morning before returning to my studies for the day. I smile, thinking of my traveling partner. We both really needed some downtime, and we’re both really getting what we each need; being individuals, what we need differs somewhat. It matters a great deal that we’ve made room for each other to have the experiences we each need, even where those differ pretty radically. “Go have fun doing what you do!” with a genuine smile and real enthusiasm is another way to say “I love you”. IΒ most particularly enjoyΒ the later opportunity to share those experiences with each other in conversation, pictures, and tales of adventure. πŸ™‚

There is more to learn than I can know in one lifetime.

There is more to learn than I can know in one lifetime.

The heavy gray clouds break open briefly revealing blue skies beyond, and I look out across the meadow and the marsh. Will there be sunshine today? The blue seam of sky closes like a zipper. Perhaps not. πŸ™‚

What about this moment right here? I breathe deeply, relax, and feel the smile tugging at the corners of my mouth – one that tends, these days, to be waiting for any opportunity to reveal itself. I’m okay with that. An authentic smile feels as good as a forced one feels strained and unpleasant; either has the power to create an emotional experience, just as our emotional experience can be reflected on our face, in a smile.

We become what we practice.

We become what we practice.

I find myself “stuck”, gazing out the window into the sky, watching the clouds shift, roil, and skitter past on the wind. The autumn foliage, gold, russet, and amber hues, is shaken loose on the wind, tree tops swaying, leaves raining down. Already there are bare branches reaching skyward, tree tops naked, silhouetted against the dramatic cottony whites and grays of the stormy sky. Autumn. Definitely autumn now.

Begin again. Somewhere. One choice. One change. One book. One moment. The day and the opportunity are yours.

Begin again. Somewhere. One choice. One change. One book. One moment. The day and the opportunity are yours.

There is still time to start laundry before the seminar begins for the day. There is time for a lovely hot shower, and a bite of breakfast. There is time for a second coffee – even a third. There is no rush; this is my life. Today is a good day to slow down and enjoy it.

This morning is Saturday. I woke to the alarm. I’ve got a seminar all weekend. This is a treat for me on several levels: it is taught by a neuroscientist whose work has been important for me over the past almost 3 years, it is on the topic of positive neuroplasticity, I enrolled because I wanted to myself, it has been planned for many weeks, and learning feels amazing. 3 entire days of education – for me! Well… my original plan had been to attend all three days of live stream, and when I returned to the workforce I had planned (and requested) the day off… but… turns out I actually really enjoy my job, so day 3 (which is a Monday) I’ll catch up with on the replay. I don’t want to miss Monday in the office.

Raindrops on roses; I make time for thoughts of love.

Raindrops on roses; I make time for thoughts of love.

…When did I become this person? When did words like “committed”, “thoughtful”, “compassionate”, “positive”, and “dedicated” become part of who I am? When did I become comfortable seeing myself this way? Using these words? I mean, over time, sure, change happens…and choosing to practice new practices, embrace new ideas, and walk on from what doesn’t work is sure to lead to changeΒ (and growth too) … but… when did I become the woman facing me in the mirror today? I feel differently about her than I felt about her in years past. I smile when I think so, because aside from understanding her a bit more, and practicing very different practices from a practical perspective… I still feel her presence solidly as “me”, without any particular sense of some sort of “growth and development timeline”.Β πŸ™‚

I think about the “on-boarding process” in the context of professional life; our personal lives are much messier, less organized, but I suspect it is more a matter of not writing it all down with hyperlinks, in bite-sized pieces, that can be copied over and over again and shared with each new human being, more than it is that no process exists. It strikes me now what a wonderful thing it is that life doesn’t really work that way; no handy rule book, no map, no Sherpa – not really, though over a lifetimeΒ haven’t I hadΒ many guides? Strangers, friends, lovers, family, teachers, casual passers-by, great books… hell, even the moments themselves and the metaphors I so delight in, end up being part of this whole being and becoming process.

Practices matter. Choices matter. Words, too, our words matter. How we present ourselves, and the assumptions we make, matter. How we treat ourselves matters. How life feels and how we treat others, builds on all of that. πŸ™‚

Letting the rain fall without fretting about it.

Letting the rain fall without fretting about it.

It’s a rainy day. A good day to enjoy the weather from the other side of window glass. A good day for a third coffee. A good day to study, to learn, to write. A good day for casualΒ grammar, and a positive outlook. A good day for art, for science, for love. A good day to let the rain fall. Well… it’s a good day for all those things for me; we are each having our own experience.

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This weekend I will study. I will be a student. I will see the world through a beginner’s eyes. I hope to learn more about what matters most. Then… I will practice. πŸ™‚

 

The election is coming. Soon we’ll “all” vote. Actually, soon those of us committed to voting will mostly vote, some of us who are less committed will make the time for it, but a sadly large percentage of the eligible population will let the opportunity slip by. Still, Election Day is coming, voting will be done, and a decision will be reached that will affect the course of our lives for many more than four years to come. WhatΒ are your values?

Pen and paper handy? ;-)

Pen and paper handy? πŸ˜‰

I’m sitting here this morning contemplating values, value statements, and how difficult it is for people to answer the question “what are your values?” Β For a long time I struggle with it, myself. Β “What are your values?” isn’t properly answered by a statement of what decisions I would make based on the values I hold. “What are your values?” is also not seeking the same answer as to the question “what do you value?”, which could be seeking a material answer, or a state of being, more than the foundational underpinning of one’s decision-making, or personal… context?

I’m thinking about values this morning because the emotional fuss in my Facebook feed, and in the media generally, regarding the approaching election reveals a lot about people’s underlying values – things they can’t really “un-say” later. I find myself listening, and listening with great care and attentiveness. I’m not listening to which candidate any one person says they favor, it’s not about that; I’m listening to what people are saying their values are – what their deep down didn’t-straight-up-say-it-before-values are. It tells me about who they are, as human beings.

What are your values? Do you value respect? Do you value consideration? What about things like “truthfulness”, “family”, “education”, “power”, “strength”… there are so many things we might hold dear and build upon all our lives without naming quite clearly in our thinking – and without mindfulness awareness of who we have become over time. This morning it hits me differently, and I understand that the question “what are your values?” is another way of asking “who are you?”. The answer is far more telling, because it reveals some of the “why” as well as some of the “who”.

We let conflict creep into our values sometimes, usually a byproduct of bias, or due to having paid lip-service to something we think we should value, even though over time it becomes clear that our actual lived values are something quite different. Sometimes, the things we say we value… aren’t “values”, at all. In my own thinking, a value is sort of a metaphysical molecule in our understanding of the world, on which we build who we are, and guide who we will become. Some of what we value, we learn at home as children, and in school as we grow up. Some of what we learn is explicitly taught. Much of what we learn, for values, we just soak up as we grow, learning from those around us what is acceptable, what is not, and what is comfortable to say aloud socially, and these things become our values, implicitly. Many of us never reach beyond those early implicit values. Some of us must awaken to the bitter-sweet knowledge that our early life implicit value learning is deeply flawed, and we either lose our way in life, or carve our own path, under-taking to demolish old values, and embrace new ones. We’re very fancy primates to be able to reflect, to choose, and to change by the power of our will – and our practices.

We become what we practice. We practice what we value. What are your values? If you must make this journey, and there is no map, and you must rely on your values to guide you down life’s path, wouldn’t it be helpful to know what your values are, in a clear and simple way? (That’s intended as a rhetorical question, because the answer seems an obvious “yes” to me.) So… do you? Do you know what your values actually are, as you sit here reading these words? Can you name them? I found, when I started down this willful, mindful, careful path of practicing practices, taking care of me, and sorting out the chaos and damage, that I could not. I could not easily answer the question “what are your values?”, and honestly I found that fairly frightening. Was I really living my life based on decision-making resulting from potentially unknown values? Were my implicit values overdue to be reconsidered – and how would I do that, if I could not name them? I knew all my personal demons by name… how could I not similarly be intimately familiar with my values? Yikes.

That was some years ago. I sat down with pen and paper (those were things, back in the day πŸ™‚ ) and threeΒ questions.

  1. What are your relationship values?
  2. What three values would you choose to build your life upon, if you were to choose your values based on adult experience and understanding of life right now?
  3. Do these values, taken together, allow you to continue to become the person you most want to be, practiced over time?

Finishing this exercise took several days of careful consideration, and reconsideration. The idea behind these particular three questions is a simple one; I interact with others, I exist as my own person, and I seek to grow over time.Β Answering these three questions provides me insight into doing those things with greater skill, and better outcomes. πŸ™‚

I got tangled up in all the most common ways, considering these questions of values. I wrote paragraphs where a word would do. I lied to myself to align to cultural norms. I wrote answers that didn’t have anything to do with me personally but sounded great on paper. I stretched definitions to cover what I wanted to be real and true, rather than own my shit so I could make other choices. I fumbled in the darkness. I let myself approach these questions with new eyes each morning for days, and again every evening before I fell asleep. I wrestled with childhood baggage, and a lifetime of chaos and damage. I felt wrapped in wreckage, as if emotional concertina wire tightened around me as I struggled. Then I stopped struggling with the questions. I answered them, simply, and honestly, and accepting what matters most to me, personally.

For me, answering these three questions of personal values became my bridge between that woman struggling through so much chaos and damage, and that woman I most wanted to be… out there… that future me… a wiser woman, a kinder woman, a franker, fairer, more compassionate woman. Understanding that knowing my values explicitly would provide me a clearer opportunity to practice them mindfully was a wonderful moment of awakening. I don’t know that it is the sort of thing that is easily shared in words, but it has mattered too much not to try. (Hell, maybe I’m late to the party, and everyone else already got the memo…?)

What are your relationship values? These guide how you treat others, and how you allow others to treat you. They guide which relationships you’ll maintain, and which you’ll choose to walk away from – or whether you are able to choose to walk away, at all. (It turns out they also guide how we treat ourselves.) I talk about my “Big 5”; they are my answer to this question. (Respect, Consideration, Reciprocity, Compassion, and Openness)

What three values would you choose to build your life upon, if you were to choose your values based on adult experience and understanding of life right now? It didn’t have to be three, it could be two, or five, or 17 – although that seems excessive, and possibly difficult to manage. I chose three – because three is what I live, myself, and these are the values that I build my future on, and have chosen with deliberate care. They require practice, and ask much of me. In practicing them, they pull me toward my future. Mindfulness, sufficiency, and perspective are the three values I am choosing to build my life upon. It has made a great deal of difference in how I make decisions, and why I make the choices I do. What will you choose? What will you do about your choice? Having the intention, do you also have the will – and the verbs? There’s a lot of practice involved in this one, particularly if growth is part of the plan. It’s probably emotionally safer… easier, perhaps… to choose to answer this question only in terms of the being you are here, now. Even that is a significant improvement over struggling within the framework of implicit values learned in childhood without ever being considered with care. Make no mistake, this is a challenging question to ask one’s self, and the answer demands a lot of us once we know it. πŸ™‚

Do these values, taken together, allow you to continue to become the person you most want to be, practiced over time? Simply enough, if the answer is clearly “no”… begin again. Ask the questions again. Consider the questions again. Answer the questions again. Consider your answers with great care; is this who you are? Is it who you most want to be? When the final answer is clearly “yes”… then the work begins in earnest, every decision, every choice, each moment, every day. There are verbs involved. Your results may vary. You’ll probably begin again, often. Still… in a life where you are your own cartographer, having your own experience, walking your own path, this seems a very good start to building a useful map. πŸ™‚

So… what are your values? Whether you know the answer to the question or note, they will determine your vote in the next election, and in everything you do, and every relationship you have. Β πŸ˜‰Β Today is a good day to be who you are; every journey starts somewhere.