Archives for posts with tag: walking my own path

Three words, and a very challenging practice.

“Assume positive intent”… well… that seems generally like a very good starting point in most relationships. Certainly our loves can be assumed to have positive intent (elsewise perhaps we benefit from choosing our loves with greater care!) The average stranger in passing rates an assumption of positive intent, and even in the face of moments that might suggest that a stranger’s intentions are less than ideally positive; it’s highly likely that it is my own narrative coaching me to a different outcome than any action, choice, or intention of that stranger. Most of us, much of the time, are far to self-involved to willfully and deliberately, with consideration of the consequences, and planning of the details, do each other some harm. Hapless inconsiderate douchebaggery notwithstanding, most people, most of the time, are mostly doing something that is more or less, in that moment, their rather human “best”.  Assuming positive intent applies a little social lubricant to my interactions, rather in the same way that saying “please” and “thank you” do. Assuming positive intent is the flip side of being courteous.

I write this morning, thinking about “assuming positive intent” in the context of three experiences.

The first of these was a gentle chiding by a professional peer in response to a cynical remark I made in the office. She had replied, with some firmness, “you aren’t assuming positive intent”. She was right. I have since thought it over a lot. It was an important observation. Too often past pain and trauma in relationships, or current struggles that linger, become source material in my thinking and decision-making in the present. I can do better than that – with practice.

The next experience was my homecoming last night. It was obvious my Traveling Partner had been and gone. It was obvious because my produce delivery had been brought in, and because there were coffee cups and glasses left on end tables here and there, and a cushion moved to a “comfortable guest spot” in the living room (I’d left it by the patio door). A used tissue on the floor. A small decorative container I’d left closed, was left open. I started to be annoyed about having to pick up after people I didn’t hang out with… which was tested by also being pleased about the produce being brought in. An assumption of positive intent helped out here; by choosing willfully to assume positive intent, I was reminded that my Traveling Partner had a super full calendar yesterday, and likely hadn’t intended to linger at my place at all, possibly rushing off without double-checking that things had been tidied up. It made it a lot easier to get past an “I’m not the maid” moment.

The third experience was waking up this morning and reading (again) about the United States dropping a fucking “MOAB” on Afghanistan. Yeah. I’ll admit right now; I can’t find any room in my heart to assume positive intent on this one. There is no moment at which taking a human life by force holds an assumption of positive intent. Dropping a big ass bomb far away hoping to kill a couple dozen people just seems like … heinous short-sighted crassly violent stupidity. So we killed some people we’ve decided to define as “bad guys”, based on our own narrative… but… what about the other effects of slamming the planet with a big ass bomb? What about the earth itself? What about other people? (“We have no evidence of civilian casualties” is a pretty pitifully insensitive remark to be making, when the bomb that was dropped likely obliterated everything within a substantial radius, entirely.) What about… other life forms than human beings? Seriously. We’re just not “everything that matters”. What about desert foxes, wee mammals, birds, reptiles… what about the fucking environment we all live in? This? Not the time for assumptions of positive intent, because right here, it is plain to see the aggressive, violent, damaging action we’ve taken. It isn’t pretty. It’s not okay. It was toxic muscle-flexing, stupid, short-sighted, gross over-kill. Not an action taken from a position of assuming positive intent, or with any wholesome outcome in mind. The dead were the bad guys? Yeah, well – apparently so are we; dropping a bomb is not a good guy moment.

I take a deep breath and another sip of my coffee. I look back on a lifetime of experience and acknowledge that I didn’t always feel the way I do now about war – or assuming positive intent, either. Growth and change – and practicing practices, and choosing different verbs, and walking this path through chaos and damage, working to heal, and finding other ways to be than continuous raging fury – have taken me a very long way from that woman in the mirror that I was at 23. 53 is nearly over… 59 days remaining, then I’ll get to take 54 for a spin, and see how I like that one. I know one thing; I’ll be practicing assuming positive intent – and I won’t be dropping any bombs.

We change when we grow. There are verbs involved. I’ve had to begin again a whole bunch of times, and walk on from discouragement, from pain, and even from friendships that could not be sustained any longer. I’ve made choices to change. I’ve had change forced on me unexpectedly. I’m having my own experience. 53 is among my very favorite years of life… it’s had some lovely moments (quite a lot of them) and some interesting challenges. Totally worth all the verbs and practicing. 🙂

I look at the time; it’s time to begin again. 😀

This morning just a shout out to the farmers, pickers, processors, roasters, and workers of all sorts, unnamed and uncounted, who contributed in some way to my morning coffee. I am all kinds of grateful for it this morning. lol

I stayed up later than usual last night, enjoying a quiet evening of conversation with friends. Time well-spent, sure, but resulting in… consequences. My routine being thrown off a bit, further contributed to the lateness of the hour at which I went to bed, and then my sleep was not only short, but somewhat restless and unsatisfying… and here I am, frittering away the time before work looking at kittens on the internet, cartoons, and pictures of friends, because frankly I’m not up to much more quite yet. I am still on my first cup of coffee.

…I wasn’t even sure I’d write at all this morning. So tired, groggy, and… still waking up, more than an hour after waking up. 🙂

Random photo I took last night as I arrived home for the day. No point to it, no relevance, just a whimsical moment in life.

Today is a good day for kitten pictures, good-natured humor that doesn’t hurt anyone, and a second cup of coffee… it won’t change the world, but it’ll probably keep me going through the morning. 😉

A new week, a new day, a new moment… this “now” thing, with some practice, becomes firm and reliable. Here it is Monday. The weekend is quite clearly behind me. I woke ahead of the alarm, feeling sufficiently rested, and definitely awake. The morning is leisurely, and gentle on my consciousness. Facebook is a playground of birthdays, kittens, and throwback pictures. I don’t yet bother with the news; reading the news would be a poor way to treat myself on a pleasant morning.

I sip my coffee. Yep. I did make it up the hill yesterday, returning home with coffee. 🙂 I spent the morning on laundry, tidying up, and looking forward to the planned visit with my Traveling Partner (that was later cancelled, when it was obvious he wasn’t up to the trip over). The rest of the day was restful, calm, and quiet. I meditated. I read. I watched Rick and Morty. I drank coffee. I gardened and planned the week ahead. By Sunday evening, the weekend was firmly fixed as a very pleasant memory – even the power outage of Friday lingers in my memory as a good time (having to replace most of the perishable groceries was a mild inconvenience on Saturday, spent pleasantly in the good company of a similarly inconvenienced friend). The weekend was sufficiently social and connected to meet those needs… and sufficiently solitary to meet those needs… Indeed, the weekend was in all regards quite sufficient, generally.

It was a lovely day for meditation, and chilly enough to light a fire. 🙂

So… here it is Monday morning. Somewhere out in the community, a future new colleague will get an offer to join my team. Somewhere else, someone will make a choice that changes their life in some important way. Unrelated, elsewhere, someone will give up in frustration, and discover that letting go makes a difference, and that everything will be okay. There are so many human experiences to be had, and we are each having our own. That’s pretty awe-inspiring (for me)… the vastness of our available choices is so broad and varied that we generally reduce it to just two or three things, walled off by “can’t” (really, “won’t”) or “have to” (really, “choose too” or “insist on”). Like going to a diner with a huge accordion-folded menu, and having to order quickly, we narrow things down to simplify our problems, decision-making, and choices… for convenience? For cognitive ease? Because it’s faster? I don’t know. I’ve been trying not to short-change myself in that way, for a while now. I like to “read the whole menu”, and maybe try something new now and then. 🙂

Today is a good day to live. Today is a good day to take my time with life’s menu, and consider it with great care, and eyes wide with wonder. Today is a good day to walk my own mile with a smile, even though there is no map on this journey… and if there were? The map is not the world. 🙂 It’s time to begin again.

I could say more about war, about warfare, about the toll it takes, about the very high cost of the very lavish profits for the very wealthy few, and maybe there will be time for all that, some other day.

This morning, I am focused on peace, on sipping this good cup of coffee, of being right here, right now – calm, contented, rested. If I allow war, the fear of war, the anxiety caused by war, to consume my consciousness then I live every moment at war, without any opportunity to feel the full scope of my emotions, or to experience the entirety of my experience, fully. Seems a waste, really (and it is), the waste that is a collateral cost of war; the waste that is the loss of this singular lovely moment right here, in exchange for contemplation of war. No, thank you, not this morning. 🙂

I sip my coffee and simply exist, right in this present moment, quietly. I breathe deeply and calmly, feeling the chill of the room. It is before dawn. I hear the commuter train some distance away, sounding the horn as it pulls in to the platform, and again as it pulls away. I yawn and stretch, letting my gaze wander the room. I smile, surrounded by my own art. I could only love this space more if it were truly my own. No breeze this morning; I don’t hear the wind chime, and I do hear the traffic on the busy street beyond the community and the park. I notice that it is not raining, at least for now.

Again and again I find my mind wanting to wander to things and moments that are not now. I gently pull it back to this space, this moment. Why borrow troubles from moments that are not now? Seriously. My own well-being definitely requires that I get at least some time in, every day, that is firmly in this ‘here, now’ space, undistracted by the future or the past or what is not yet or what is not here. I’ve been astonished more than once by how much chill I now have, and how much more perspective, when at other points in my day, I am faced with… circumstances. Trials. Challenges. Stressors. Aggravating moments. Frustrating situations. Complications. Emotions. I’ll have any one of those things, or some mixed up handful, reliably without any effort to select for them. I don’t have to jump ahead to get there sooner… and it’s rather nice to face them a bit more prepared, and a bit more resilient. So, every day, I take time to meditate, to exist very mindfully in this space, in this moment – wherever that happens to be, at whatever time I choose. My mind, of course, wanders. I pull it back. It wanders again, and again, I pull it back. It’s a gentle tug of war, without frustration or internal criticism; I am challenging the habits of my monkey mind. It takes practice. Surely I expect to begin again. 🙂

This morning I pull my monkey mind back to meditation, I begin again, and I enjoy thoughts of far away friends, feeling grateful for each step on the journey illuminated by loving words, perspective, the wisdom of experience, and shared moments. I allow my senses to fill up on the feeling of being valued, of being loved, and of loving. I smile and sip my coffee. My smile deepens when my Traveling Partner crosses my mind. My sister, my niece, my friends next door… my recollections are filled with smiles, and this too is my own doing; there are verbs involved. These days I spend far more time recalling smiles, and moments of delight, than I do rehashing conflict or preserving moments of discord in my memory. It has proven to matter a great deal whether I spend my time thinking over past pain or past joy; our implicit biases are built on what we spend our time contemplating. The choices we make about “re-runs” in our thinking are actually quite important.

Thoughts of love make lovely re-runs.

I notice the time and become more aware of the moment with some specificity. It’s time to begin again. 🙂

I crashed hard, early, last night. It wasn’t even 8 pm. The alarm woke me, with some persistence. I’ve no recollection of waking at any point during the night. I slept, nearly motionless, for a continuous 7.5 hours, according to my fitness tracker. I woke feeling rested, according to my subjective experience of self. I’ve frittered away nearly an hour over my first coffee, reading this and that, catching up on email, making a list of things I need to get done this weekend. It’s a nice morning, so far, preceding what I anticipate will be a pleasant, if busy, work day.

It’s spring. I enjoy spring. I get my camera out more when it isn’t raining. It’s been raining a lot. It’s raining this morning. I am thinking about bluer skies.

Evening walks home under blue skies…

…vibrant sunrises and the promise of sunshine later…

…brilliant shades of azure and cerulean blues, tiny green leaves unfolding, shades of pink and mauve and creamy white blossoms everywhere.

Each morning I look forward to my walk in to the office, through the city. Each morning I pause and look back, across the river, at this city I’ve enjoyed now for 19 years. I’m glad I came here. 🙂

I’m glad it’s spring.

Today is a good day to begin again.