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A Season of Change

September 18, 2016 //
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Tomorrow I go back to work. That isn’t today. Today, however, is a good day to prepare, to make myself ready, to review plans and expectations, to jot down questions, to plot a new commute with care, and plan out new routines that take into account my return to the workforce, as well as the likelihood that I’ll be seeing a great deal more of my traveling partner as the weather turns from festival summer to fireside fall.

The end of a chilly rainy autumn day.

Yesterday ended well, although chilly.

Who am I? It seems a day for such questions. Rainy. Mild. More yellow and amber tones in the leaves of the trees on the far side of the park than there were yesterday. Evidence of time passing, and of seasons changing. I feel transformed, myself, and able to face the prospect of working with quite a bit more contentment, and in much less day-to-day pain, even with the chill of autumn approaching. Has it really meant so much to take this time to care for myself, to live on my own terms, to follow my own agenda? Just six months? Worth it. Totally worth it. I’ll even be taking understandings gained and this perspective on the healing power of leisure into the workplace with me; I’ve learned a lot that has value to long-term workforce management strategies. Am I this person, this analyst-manager, this workforce management professional, this corporate employee? Is this who I am? No. Not really. I am not my work.

I look around the studio, very tidy – even projects in progress are cleaned up, for now, and put neatly aside. I’ll have a guest for some days, soon. Is this who I am? Hostess? Family member, local matriarch, devoted servant of home and hearth? Or am I the artist who has so accommodatingly set everything aside to welcome friends in need, lovers in distress, a traveler returning home, or family visiting from afar? Am I the frustrated citizen, attempting to dot i’s, cross t’s, and jump through hoops of paperwork on fire to comply with some requirement or another? Am I the disabled veteran, committed to my wellness, frustrated by “the system”, still doing what I can to meet my own needs over time, through diet, exercise, and careful management of my health? Am I the woman on the meditation cushion in the window, content, calm, relaxed? (Occasionally distracted with childlike delight to see a squirrel dart past, or a woodpecker stop at the suet feeder, sending both bird and feeder spinning crazily, to my great amusement.)

Who am I? Am I all these – or none? When I cling to some singular potentially defining quality, like my appearance, or an attitude, or a characteristic, or some detail singled out, change becomes such a frightening destructive force, with the potential to rob me of who I am. “Who am I?” is a question that quite honestly used to terrify me – not because I didn’t have a sense of self, but because I didn’t know what “the right answer” was, and that, by itself, was quite terrifying. Follow that with finding myself unclear on precisely what is required to prove the answer. Yep. Terrifying to feel so… unidentified.

There is no “right” answer. There may be quite a few… not “wrong” exactly… “incorrect”? Inaccurate. There may be quite a few inaccurate answers. I take time to consider the difference between “accurate” and “honest”. Truthful fits in there, somewhere, too. I’m not sure that accuracy in the details that describe this being of light wrapped in this fragile vessel made of meat actually answers the question “who am I?” at all well.

It’s a pleasant enough autumn morning, on the edge of a major life change. It seems a good time to give a moment of thought and consideration to the woman in the mirror. It doesn’t have to be fancy, or deep, or complicated; I’ll pick out work clothes for tomorrow at some point later, and likely find myself contemplating the woman in the mirror, who she has become, where she is headed, and how she hopes to share herself in this new context. That’s enough for now. 🙂

A cloudy autumn day suitable for hiking. A good day to walk on; the journey isn't about the destination.

Today begins well, a cloudy autumn day suitable for hiking. The season is changing.

Today is a good day to consider the journey. Today is a good day to walk on. Change is. Perhaps it’s just the season for it? 🙂

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Categories Anxiety, autumn, Brain Injury, Free Will, Healthy Living, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, solo hiking, Summer, The Art of Being, The Big 5, Words

Another Breath, Another Moment

September 15, 2016 //
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He’s gone, now. Like a dust-devil on the open desert; approaching from a distance, I had an idea my traveling partner would likely head my way at some point, and probably need to stop by for this or that, but no clear expectation of timing. While that’s not my own preference for managing details, I am content to enjoy him when I can. He suggests, by phone, at some point yesterday, he’d be by right about… whenever he’s here, really, and that’s what I heard, regardless of what it was he said, which I no longer recall.  I only knew he’d come, at some point, and I’d feel his arms around me for a moment, before – just as with that allegorical dust-devil – he’s quite gone again. I find myself smiling this morning, grateful for love’s moments, unconcerned over love’s lack of commitment to efficient scheduling. 🙂

the twilight of dawn

Letting go of attachment takes practice. I’m still practicing.

His planning shifted with the day. He would be here… He might not make it… He definitely wouldn’t make it that day, but would make time the next… Then, quite late… “I’m on my way. I’ll be there in about 8 minutes.” No argument from me, and no stress. Oh, sure, this level spontaneity isn’t so much my thing, but being bitchy about it tends to degrade the general quality of our experience together in the moment, and he is aware that I like a bit of planning, some structure, all that – if he could offer it in that moment, he would have, because when he can, he does.

develops

Embracing impermanence requires practice. I’m still practicing. 

Life is not a freight train on rails following a set, fixed, known path, with a clear schedule to which it adheres, not even “generally”. Why would love be constrained by a timetable when life herself can’t get her shit together enough to make and follow a workable plan, day-to-day?! LOL Planning and having a fairly clear idea of the day and week ahead, those are my wants, needs,  and inclinations, and it absolutely makes sense to me that I tend to organize my time in a fairly firm way. Other people find less value in the routine and predictable, and seek greater spontaneity in their adventures. I’m learning to let go and avoid suffering in life when plans fall through, or reality refuses to comply with my expectations, which are very often upended by life, by love, by circumstance, by whim, by opportunity, by choice, by chance… Life is far more important than the schedule with which someone tries to regulate and manage it. 😀

the sun rises

I begin again. A lot. 

Damn, I do miss him, though, already. That’s okay, too. The whirlwind moments of his brief visit were shared in the company of friends, dear to us both. He was here! His gear was quickly, rather sloppily assembled (also not my preference, and it had been planned differently lol). Conversation happening, his gear still ends up packed, somehow. Much fun was had in those brief moments together. Laughter. Hugs. Friendship. Warmth. Love. Tenderness. Kindness. Adulting. I’m still lingering on those precious moments, because I have learned they are by far more important and more worthy of savoring than the poignant quiet moment at the end of the day, alone in the darkness. Here I sit, with my coffee and my quiet smile, content and wrapped in love. 🙂

Mmmm... Life is good.

Mmmm… Life is good.

We become what we practice. There are verbs involved. 🙂

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Categories Brain Injury, Free Will, Healthy Living, Love, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Relationships, The Art of Being, The Big 5, Words

A Lot to Take

September 2, 2016 //
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Last night was pretty amazing. The concert exceeded my expectations, and with the exception of one ear-piercing opening act, it was a good time start to finish. I’d have done well to actually bring the ear plugs to the concert, that I had made a point of packing for that purpose.  Adulthood fail. lol

What we understand ourselves to have seen can be very subjective.

What we understand ourselves to have seen can be very subjective.

I was tired well-past the point of cognitive impairment becoming obvious, and somewhat intoxicated, when the concert ended. Whether I was smoking cannabis myself or not would be entirely irrelevant, considering the quantity of it being smoked in the venue last night, generally, and there was definitely a sense that we were all so very high.  The intensity of the bass was definitely turned up, somewhere beyond “mind-blowing”, more on the order of “weapons grade”, or perhaps “pharmaceutical quality” – it’s the part of music that is most like a drug, for me.  Some people don’t care for bass, don’t listen for it, don’t groove on it. We’re each having our own experience. Some people were there for the lights. Some for the words. Some for the community. Some, perhaps, for the product placement. There were a lot of people there, each having their own experience. We were all in it together.

At the end of the evening, I struggled to communicate simple things, or use familiar tools. Navigating in the crowd was quite difficult; I relied on following my traveling partner. The noise of voices, emotions, and bodies in motion was just too much for me at that point, and I couldn’t really filter it out, or process any of the events or images of the evening… and remarkably, I managed to avoid any sort of meltdown (admittedly, I had a moment or two of irritable frustration, but whether those were my own, or the emotions of my traveling partner having to cope with my challenges, too, is not so clear now, and they were only moments, anyway).

We had gotten a room, so avoided a long drive home. I don’t sleep well in strange places. I often just don’t sleep in strange places. An unidentified hum-buzz-whine of an audible frequency continued through the night; it would turn out to be the mini-fridge. I laid awake most of the night, content, quiet, existing in stillness with my thoughts: recollections of the evening, musings about the new job, some jokes, some stories, love poems… I may have written and rewritten my “to do list” a number of times in my head, in the darkness. I planned my future. I planned my future on alternate timelines. I budgeted an unexpected (fictional) windfall. I fell asleep a couple times, deeply enough to get some rest. Of the possible 7 hours I could have slept from the time I laid down, until I got up to dress for breakfast, just at 8:00 am, I got at least 4 hours, I think. It’s enough to get by on for a day, but tonight will not be a late night. lol

I got home with today planned pretty well… Before I ever sat down to write, my plans unraveled completely. My ride fell through. I don’t mind taking public transit – and I found out soon enough to make that change – but it means giving up the nap I had just been about to settle in for, eagerly. I’m tired. Tired is okay, though, and tired isn’t a permanent thing, if there is a future opportunity for adequate rest (and there is – I call it “night time”, and hope to be sleeping, then. LOL). I make a cup of coffee, and consider the afternoon, and the weekend ahead. My brain is a little numb. More coffee? More coffee. I smirk at myself, aware that my state of fatigue will likely make me a more amenable, docile patient, more willing to simply follow directions, and comply with requests without chatter. On the other hand… it may mean that I don’t think to ask questions that need asking, which is something to be mindful of. More coffee.

Here comes today… am I ready for it? I’m at least okay right now… 🙂

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Categories Brain Injury, Love, Mindfulness, Moments, Perspective, Sleepless Nights, The Art of Being

I Had Something For This…

August 28, 2016 //
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This morning begins fairly slowly, and generally pleasantly. I woke before sunrise, and sat quietly for some time, without purpose, or pressure to do more. I listened to my traveling partner’s voice, on the voicemail waiting for me this morning from a missed call last night, letting me know he had arrived for the night, and settled in safely. I smile again thinking of the sound of his voice, and sip my coffee.

I didn’t sleep much Friday night, and Saturday passed quietly in that peculiar fragmented way that sometimes results from fatigue. It was a pleasant day, and I have no complaints about it. I spent it relaxing, reading, and writing. Having found myself facing the rare inspiration to write fiction, I began a short story that held my attention long enough to become really excited about it. I may finish it today… or… it may die a slow death from later disinterest. There’s no predicting that, although I have a dreadful track record in the area of finishing fiction writing. lol Saturday seems easily wrapped up in a paragraph, this morning.

The way some days finish feels like a beginning.

The way some days finish feels like a beginning.

Friday was rather more eventful – at least, I’m still thinking it over. I spent most of Friday evening on meditation, of one form or another, and really deep diving some internal conflict, and taking a different look at some persistent bits of damaged this and that. It was constructive and practical time, spent in an accepting and compassionate place with myself, but it was also time spent taking a close look at next steps, “who I am”, and where the trajectory of my life is likely taking me, in a very honest way. It was a good evening for questions, and time well-spent.

Today I begin again.

Today I begin again.

Morning mist the day began with already gives way to golden sunshine. It’s a lovely beginning. I haven’t yet planned the day; I’m just enjoying the moment. What more worthy beginning could I undertake than to enjoy the moment I am in, right now? 🙂

Today is a good day for beginnings and for moments.

IMAG8161

 

 

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Categories Brain Injury, Free Will, Healthy Living, Logic & Reason, Love, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Relationships, Sleepless Nights, The Art of Being, Words

Present, Tense

August 23, 2016 //
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This morning I woke contented and relaxed at a very ordinary 5:00 am. An hour later, sipping my coffee, innocently enjoying a lovely quiet moment, I recall that my visiting friend leaves today, and feel the excitement of my traveling partner having returned…and realize I have a job interview this afternoon, too… oh, and the housekeeping needs some attention… and I need to do laundry… crap! I haven’t yet checked the weather! Is it going to be very hot today? It didn’t take long for my sweet moment of contentment to expire, and for anxiety and tension to wash over me.

One new day, approximately infinite possibilities.

One new day, approximately infinite possibilities.

Initially, I blamed my sudden tension on the irritating sound of a freight train idling on the track, not too far away (near enough to be annoying). It wasn’t honestly that at all. I had drifted from now into the future – a place where anything can happen – because nothing has happened there yet.

I breathe. Relax. I inhale deeply, feeling my chest tighten as it expands. I exhale fully, feeling my body relax, my shoulders ease themselves back down where they belong. I am okay right now. There is literally nothing wrong (right here, right now, in my own experience). It wasn’t even a bunch of scary details that got me, which frustrates me some; it was all utterly commonplace, and pleasant or neutral in emotional content.

My visit with my dear friend has been lovely. It’s time for him to return home, to his life, his family; he misses his love, and his children. There’s nothing about that which is either noteworthy or stressful for me. My traveling partner’s safe return home is a matter of pure joy and great delight; I’ll see him soon, before he departs again, for new adventures elsewhere. The job interview? Okay, there’s some small amount of natural (healthy?) stress to that; it’s time to get back to work, and it matters to me to do my best. Still, hardly the sort of thing that should be permitted to blow the morning.

I wonder if I could get through life without using the word “should”? I smile to myself, aware that as words go, “should” has far too much power over my experience. “Should” is a word that signals an assumption, or an expectation, potentially one that defies reality entirely – and still guides my thinking or behavior. Powerful – and generally not in positive way. “Should” holds me back, keeps me down, causes me to keep doing something that doesn’t work at all, prevents me from walking away from bad situations… I’m trying to think of a situation in which “should” has served me well, in some positive way… I struggle to do so. “Should” is often the word I turn to specifically when life is not cooperating with my thinking. (I wrote more about this, but it got twisty and confusing. Perhaps another time. I don’t like “should”.)

The cool morning has my attention once again. Birdsong, the sounds of traffic nearby; it’s a noisy morning. Tuesday? The community landscapers will be working, so I try to appreciate what quiet there is now; it’ll be noisier later on.

Strange morning. I feel a little sad to say good-bye to my dear friend – and eager to have my routine back.  I feel eager and joyful to welcome my traveling partner home – and a little “pressed for time” knowing he will leave again fairly soon. I feel hopeful and self-assured about the interview this afternoon – and a little anxious about the outcome, in spite of myself. The complex back and forth of my emotions will benefit from more time meditating, today, and taking especially good care of myself.

IMAG8161

One day of many. The plan is not the experience. The map is not the world. Today is a good day for moments, for kindness – and for changing how often I use the word “should”. 🙂

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Categories Anxiety, Brain Injury, Free Will, Healthy Living, Mindfulness, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Relationships, Summer, The Art of Being, The Big 5, Words
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