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Packing a Bag

April 29, 2016 //
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“What’s in your wallet?” I chuckle to find jingles and advertising slogans ‘stuck in my head’ as I pack a bag for a weekend of adventure and love. I pack in a fairly structured way, beginning with thinking through what I hope to do, and envisioning getting ready for those sorts of things – what might I miss? I make a list (and yes, sorted by categories of things, it’s part of ‘who I am’). This morning, I take another look at the list and assembled the listed items, group them, pack them, and move on to the next trusting that the planning is adequate to the purpose. If I think of something I overlooked, I add it to the list as well as packing it; the list will be the last thing packed, and a handy resource on the other end of the weekend to ensure that all the things I thought I might need also make their way back with me. 🙂

I don’t make a point of calling this out day-to-day, but for the benefit of those joining me here more recently; having a brain injury definitely affects how I do what I do, and it is also a very… personalized? Customized. It’s a very individual sort of thing in some regards; what works for me to cope with my own gaps, losses, quirks, etc, is very likely to be finger-print-distinctive if compared to what someone else with a TBI does to cope with their own needs. I do well making lists… which is kind of a good thing, since I also feel a certain… compulsion… to do so. 🙂 We are who we are, right? I mention it, because it may be that some readers may come to this blog with the perception that there are ‘one size fits all’ perfect-fit solutions to the chaos and damage they – or a loved one – may be experiencing. It’s not that easy. Perhaps if it were as easy as following some handy steps on a cheat sheet shared by all who suffer a head injury, I wouldn’t still be noodling around blogging about ‘wtf??’, ‘how the hell??’ and ‘oh, hey… that worked’ in this haphazard trial and error sort of way? 🙂  We are each having our own experience.

Anyway… moving on… this morning I am finding myself fairly engaged with the process of preparing for adventure, and packing what I’ll need. I consider everything quite carefully, not wanting to drag around a lot of weight that doesn’t serve a definite need. I find myself wondering how I can shift gears, and look at life itself through the lens of packing for adventure, applying the power of metaphor (and perhaps some linguistic shenanigans) to extract a better understanding of bags and ‘baggage’ on life’s journey… Could I… ‘pack lighter’? Could I drag along fewer things that no longer truly serve a purpose? If I were to consider my needs with greater care, and lighten my emotional load? I learn so much about myself, and about life and living, by contemplating the whole of it within the context of some smaller process or task.

…My poetry notebook! Damn… I almost forgot to pack it. I mean…I can write poetry on napkins in diners, and even in the quiet moments walking along, in my own head (some of my best poetry never finds its way to paper)… but… I do like writing it down neatly in my notebook, and poetry is one style of written communication which I never leave behind. The weight of a notebook, versus the weight of the unspoken word? Yeah. The notebook goes with me. 🙂 (For a moment, the demon chorus in the background gives voice to a bitter and angry hurt woman of long ago, “What are you, fucking 12?” and I am briefly stalled on the hurt I feel, delivered by my own brain. I take a deep breath, and allow myself to recognize the profound struggle to be heard represented, and show myself a moment of real compassion – it has been hard, and there are times when I’ve hurt myself worse than the world ever would think to, and it isn’t at all necessary or helpful. I imagine a softer kinder me giving that bitter angry woman a tender hug and a smile, as I pack the notebook; it’s important to both of us.)

Of course... the map is not the world.

Of course… the map is not the world.

It’s a lovely quiet morning with a good cup of coffee and a packing list. Adventure awaits!

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Categories Brain Injury, Free Will, Healthy Living, Logic & Reason, Love, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Perspective, Spring, The Art of Being, Words

So Many Verbs

April 27, 2016 //
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I’m sipping my coffee and staring at a blank page, waiting for my brain to kick in with actual thoughts. So far… nothing. It’s not a lack of thoughts lurking in the background waiting their turn to be given a moment, or a lack of living metaphors, or whimsy. There is surely no shortage of photographs of this and that, out and about, useful for illustrating some point…or just being a lovely image or image of a lovely moment. Quite the opposite; my head is full of things to do, thoughts, notions, observations, yearnings, fleeting illustrative imaginings, and some of the best poetry I’ve never written, too… It’s a noisy mess in here, and frankly some tidying up is in order!

I slept well last night and rested deeply. I even ‘slept in’ some, having not set the alarm and waking at the time my eyes were most inclined to open and face the day (still quite early in the morning, sun not yet up). But what is there to say about sleep, besides noting the obvious value in being well-rested? Certainly it is worth taking the time to go to bed early enough to get a needed night’s sleep; no late night programming is truly worth passing up sleep. I’ve already used more words than needed on the topic of sleeping. Waking well-rested is an excellent start to any day that may have verbs in it. 🙂

There’s the thing, right? There are so many verbs from which to choose! I could meditate – and tidy up the mess within. I could do some housekeeping and tidy up the mess that surrounds me (it is limited to my studio, and is both inconvenient, and an impediment to working creatively). I could finish getting moved in – which tends to have a tidying up effect both internally and externally (it’s just that sort of process). I could ‘mix it up’ and spend some measure of time on a variety of tasks, ‘getting ahead on things’ in a more generalized way. I could choose to do something less obviously useful, like going for a long hike, or having an at-home “spa day” and really taking care of me on a whole other level, or spending the day bird-watching from my patio, or catching up on my studies by reading (and finishing) one or two exceptional reading selections I’ve been finding highly useful and haven’t yet finished… The point I am making (for me as much as anyone else) is that there is a fairly large variety of verbs I can choose from – in most any moment, on nearly any day – and the day is only begun. I am unlikely to make ‘relaxing’ and ‘sipping coffee’ last for the whole of the day, and not only are there more hours ahead of me (as far as I know) there is ever so much more to be done…

It’s down to choices. Choices and verbs.

I sit awhile, sipping my coffee and looking at those words, “choices and verbs”, and giving myself time to consider my choices and the verbs required more fully. I open my “to do list” and my “list of things” (which is a willy-nilly ‘as it came to me’ unsorted vast sort of list of all the many things I might like to have or ‘need to get’ to improve my day-to-day quality of life, or to resolve some small household issue or another), and make an addition here or there. I continue to sip my coffee. I consolidate the two lists into one, for convenience. I continue to consider the options – and the opportunities. As I review the list, add to it, and remove items that have been completed, I find myself feeling more organized, more aware, and less at loose ends. I feel more purposeful, and more mindful of my long-term needs. I remove some things from the list that are no longer relevant; needs and plans change. Change is. This individual day facing me in this moment is mostly unaffected by the changes I make to my lists, but I feel more organized, more clear-headed, and more present in this moment, being less burdened by the lack of ‘sense of direction’ that had occurred as planning broke down in the face of change. Change is – that much is entirely unavoidable, and fighting it is an unworthy use of precious limited life force, particularly when harnessing the power of change can be such a powerful ally on a much longer journey.

It’s still about choices and verbs, and my coffee is down to one last, cold, sip. It is a rainy day beyond the window, and the sun is apparently giving all the light and warmth it can. The gray rainy day nudges me in the direction of indoor choices, limiting the list just a bit. It’s still plenty to choose from. I pause, and notice a serious omission from my list, and make a point to add it… “Enjoy the day and take care of me.” I smile. I’m eager to check that one off every day, and recognize the value in making it a priority, and taking the time to fulfill my obligations to myself.

...Making a list... checking it twice...

…Making a list… checking it twice…

Choices. Verbs. The day won’t wait for me to keep up… Today is a good day to embrace change, and to take care of me… I’ve got a list, and I know how to use it. 😉

 

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Categories Brain Injury, Free Will, Healthy Living, Logic & Reason, Mindfulness, Perspective, solo hiking, The Art of Being, Words

Onward…

April 25, 2016 //
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I spent yesterday sick. I was mostly over the symptoms by early afternoon, but the fatigue of it wrecked me for the remainder of the day, and I took care of myself gently, ensuring I drank sufficient replacement fluids, and got plenty of rest. Getting things done was not on yesterday’s agenda.

I spent the day watching storms, cartoons, and birds.

I spent the day watching storms, cartoons, and birds.

This morning I woke to the alarm, feeling rested and over whatever I was so sick with yesterday. My coffee is tasty and goes down easily. My shower felt good. Today is fairly structured; I have doctor’s appointments at both ends of the day, and on opposite sides of town. No rush – and no worries, really. It’s a pleasant feeling, and I glide through the morning feeling aware, and competent. I can always tell when I’ve been under the weather; there are dishes in the sink. This morning I empty the dishwasher and reload it while I make my coffee and don’t miss a single detail.

Birds at the feeder

Birds at the feeder

I hear birdsong outside the window and think about how much entertainment I got yesterday from the birds that have found the feeders near my patio garden. The bold red-wing blackbirds quickly shared the information, and as the day went on, more and more of them began to show up, even two or three at a time and sometimes bickering over who gets what. I sat bundled up on the couch ostensibly watching cartoons, but more often with my monocular pointed toward the marsh, or the bird feeder. By the end of the day, I could get an occasional picture of a bird at the feeder without my motion, reaching for the camera, sending them flying away. 🙂 It’s already rather difficult to recall that I was sick yesterday; I recall the day as having been well-spent.

I find myself wondering if that is one secret to finding joy in life – simply focusing on the joy, the small pleasures, being awake, aware, and more invested in the pleasant bits than the unpleasant bits, with the result that the unpleasant bits slowly fade from memory…? Seems possible. Certainly, I do find more value in focusing on the pleasant bits, regardless. 🙂

I write a few more paragraphs, mundane details of this or that. I delete them when I realize they are not relevant to anything much – or even each other. I think for a moment about the skillful writing of two rather different (and very dear) friends, and feel very relieved that I do not compare my writing to theirs day-to-day; we are each such different writers, with such different voices, it would be beyond painful to hold myself to such a standard, and really – there’s no comparison, we each have such different things to say. Every voice in the symphony is utterly necessary for the music to be most beautiful and most complete.

Today is a good day to be uplifted by life, to see the sky, to feel the rain, to be mindful of my fellow travelers on this journey. Today is a good day to walk on. Today is a good day for being and becoming.

 

 

 

 

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Categories Free Will, Healthy Living, Mindfulness, Perspective, The Art of Being

Staring at the Menu

April 23, 2016 //
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I woke in good spirits this morning, but also in more than the usual amount of pain. So far I’ve been mostly ignoring it with some measure of success. The mild deceptively stormy looking morning found me feeling a bit restless and at loose ends, unsure how to spend my time on what is a mostly fairly ordinary Saturday morning. I had considered a number of things I could do with the day, but didn’t make any firm plans in advance.

Sometimes the journey we plan isn't the journey we take at all.

Sometimes the journey we plan isn’t the journey we take at all.

Eventually, I went for a walk through the park…which became a walk to the farmers’ market some 2  miles away…which turned out to be nothing more or less than a 2-mile walk; the market is still on winter hours, and not open on this particular Saturday. I sat in the park there, where the market generally is, and rested my feet for a few minutes, listening to the breeze through the trees, and the sound of the fountain splashing. The walk home seemed longer than 2 miles, and I arrived at my door tired, still in pain, and feet aching… feeling peculiarly content. I awaken to a different understanding of my experience. I could have gone elsewhere, or done something more, but really it was an effort to make a choice to go/do in the first place; I only wanted to walk, and then to walk some more. Looking back on it, I wasn’t needing to get anywhere at the end of the journey – except home.

I pause for flowers along the way.

I pause for flowers along the way.

...Mostly yellow ones today.

…Mostly yellow ones today.

I feel a sense of ease and relief as I cross the threshold, and lock the door behind me. Home. As I relax into feeling welcome in this quiet safe space, I find myself comparing my pain and fatigue with the length of my ‘to do’ list and decide to do the housekeeping tomorrow, and rest and take care of myself today. Rushing through life robs me of the opportunity to savor it, and to linger over small pleasures.

Simple pleasures: birds at the feeder, a small container garden, a cloudy spring day.

Simple pleasures: birds at the feeder, a small container garden, a cloudy spring day, a good cup of coffee.

I sip my coffee thinking about how vast life’s choices and opportunities really are. What will I make of my life? What are my next steps? Where do I go from here? Who do I want most to be? What do I want to do when I grow up? I laugh, wondering at how much of life seems spent on that question…and why I ask it, even in humor… I mean… what’s with the ‘when‘? There is only… ‘now’.  A drenching steady rain begins to fall.

Today is a good day for small pleasures, and for enjoying moments of leisure. It needn’t be anything fancy, or exotic; taking the time to enjoy living life is enough.

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Categories Free Will, Healthy Living, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Oregon Trails, pain, Perspective, solo hiking, Spring, The Art of Being, Words

So Many Right Ways

January 26, 2016 //
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Another morning. I sip my coffee and breathe through the sensation of unease that begins to develop each time my thoughts land on moving; I have the keys, the lease is signed, and for the moment I live between places, in the thoughts of going from one to the other. It’s peculiar.

One day, one moment, of many.

One day, one moment, of many.

Today moving begins in earnest. Do I move the kitchen first? Maybe the bathroom? Just start with the farthest closest? Patio garden first to get it out of the way of carrying things through the convenient patio door? Across the muddy strip of winter lawn? These are not new thoughts, and they drift past in more or less the same order that they do each time they get my attention, again. The repetition I rely on to firm up good practices is a nuisance this morning; I have been here and it does not need to be revisited. It’s the unease; there is anxiety in the magnitude of changes, and a fear of ‘doing it wrong’, even though the only person making the call on whether it is going well or poorly is me. My home, my rules, my way; I am the sole architect of my joy or discontent on this move – and I’m a tad irritated with myself to be throwing my heart into turmoil over something I approached with eagerness and enthusiasm from the outset. These are the emotional circumstances that develop for me around change, and the greater the change the higher the likelihood that I will find myself, at some point, weeping or raging – lost in a storm of uncontrolled emotion, unable to function until it passes.

I am relying heavily on myself on this move. I generally do, then get tangled up in the help of friends in moments of humanity, things lost or things broken, feeling frustrated when real-life doesn’t meet expectations. This time I am leaning on lessons learned in the most recent 3 or 4 moves; I will handle what I can, and reach out only for the specific help I really need, when that time comes. I have professional coming to handle the very heaviest pieces. The satisfaction in self-reliance is pretty profound, and I am in a place in life where living focused more on contentment than on profit has resulted in household goods of fair lightness, with only a handful of pieces I can’t lift or maneuver on my own. I expect to ‘work my own way’, which often means sipping coffee between tasks, sitting down for a minute quite frequently, and taking my time – but also working in an organized way, and quite continuously at my slow steady pace from waking to crashing at the end of the day, passionately involved in creating order from chaos. Embracing change awake, and aware, and mostly fairly fearlessly… well… except for the occasional moment of nauseating unease.

I am missing my traveling partner. I am not regretting my decision to handle the move without his help, though. Every move we have done together has taxed our relationship during that period of time between beginning the moving, and finally getting entirely unpacked and settled in; I don’t handle change well, and it is uncomfortable to live with. (That’s putting it mildly, based on what I see reflected in my journal notes.) I don’t know what to expect from this particular move, emotionally, and I endeavor to set myself up for success by being okay with the unknown, on this one, rather than attempting to nudge myself in line with some specific expectation or another; maybe this is the move that shows me it doesn’t have to be such a disruptive experience? I’ve come pretty far. Still… I do miss him. I think about him often. Love anchors me to the move with a sense of purpose and security.

New perspective.

New perspective.

One more work day… then, The Move, and only The Move. I figure I’ll be living in the new place more or less full-time by Thursday afternoon… which also means I will be disconnected from FiOS for a handful of days until the provider cuts over my circuit to the new location some days later. I consider it – is it an inconvenience? I can tether with my phone, so it isn’t as if I am facing being without connectivity completely… Funny that internet access feels like a necessity in life, like drinking water and secure housing, or medical care; it is the unimaginable future of my childhood.  Still, maybe some digital downtime while I move is an opportunity more than a headache? More room and time to simply breathe, simply be. There will be time for dissecting lessons learned and having meta conversations later, and there is much to be said for having the experience I am having.

Today is a good day for time…and motion. Today is a good day to ‘walk on’ in life, with eyes wide with wonder and a playful sense of purpose. Today is a good day to remember that plans are not the goal – just as the map is not the world. Today is a good day to live life.

 

 

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Categories Anxiety, Brain Injury, Free Will, Healthy Living, Logic & Reason, Love, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Relationships, solo hiking, The Art of Being, The Big 5
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