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Frustration, Failure, and Free Will

May 4, 2015 //
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I slept badly last night. My sleep was interrupted, restless, and featured bad dreams on old themes with new characters. I felt over-heated much of the night, which I noticed most often immediately before taking some action that subsequently found me feeling too cold. It was an uncomfortable sort of night. I could spend many hours and words looking for ‘why’; I don’t find that doing so is helpful, nor does it result in fewer such nights. I let it go and move on, feeling generally in good spirits this morning in spite of the difficult night.

I didn’t let the lack of good sleep frustrate me. It got me thinking, this morning, about frustration in general. Frustration is my kryptonite, emotionally. Something about my messed up wiring, and broken bits, allows even small moments of frustration to become a very big, very ugly, emotional mess in a small amount of time. Lately, I’ve been finding my way to using some common moments of frustration as simple practices for dealing more appropriately and comfortably with frustration itself. The value in these small practices has been almost immediate, but the value in any practice is the practicing, itself, and I still need quite a lot of it before I even approach a place in life where I may be able to say “I handle frustration well”. That’s the goal, though, ultimately.

The journey is not all blue skies and meadows...but there are some blue skies and meadows to enjoy along the way.

The journey is not all blue skies and meadows…but there are some blue skies and meadows to enjoy along the way.

It is no easy feat for me to choose to make use of some unpleasant moment or circumstance to willfully practice some better practice than my reactive impulse in the moment might direct me towards without any practice at all. Frustration is a free will killer. Frustration dissolves emotional resilience and mindfulness almost instantly, for me. Frustration is an emotion to which I reliably still react, rather than responding with mindfulness, will, consideration and good self-care.  Practicing useful practices has resulted in so many day-to-day improvements in my experience that it has been a source of some frustration that I hadn’t yet built a practice specific to mastering how I manage frustration, itself. Finding one or two in my everyday experience – built around the most common sources of frustration in my own life (like logging into apps using complicated passwords that easily fail, or the occasional odd screen-freeze on my device) – is allowing me to practice better behaviors in response to frustrating moments. The hope is that doing so with small things, harmless things, common things will insulate me from major freak outs and emotional disasters when bigger things frustrate me; practice may not make ‘perfect’, but it sure tends to solidify habits, and change specific reactions.

Taking time to appreciate pleasant moments gives them lasting impact on my day-to-day experience.

Taking time to appreciate pleasant moments gives them lasting impact on my day-to-day experience.

Celebrating progress, even small wins, has big value. Even something as small on the victory scale as a change in thinking, or a good idea, is worth a moment of my appreciation. This morning, I’m taking time to appreciate new practices that address a very old issue, for me, and feeling positive and supported. This, too, is a practice; the practice of celebrating small victories, and incremental progress over time, is a practice that builds more positive implicit memory, as well as providing myself with emotional support from within – which builds emotional self-sufficiency, and keeps me on the path of reaching that place where my close relationships with others are reliably chosen based on desire, and built on positive emotional values, rather than investing in habitual, self-defeating, or co-dependent behaviors, that over time become damaging.

Where does my path take me? How do I look beyond patterns to find change?

Where does my path take me? How do I look beyond patterns to find change?

 

Meeting most of my emotional needs, myself, isn’t an unreasonable goal, and getting there lifts the burden from loved ones to ‘make me happy’ – or ‘make me’ anything at all. I get to ‘make me’ in my own image. Powerful. I am eager to take that project to a new level by moving into creative live/work space and investing more of my time in me. The wait involved in ideal readiness – and an available unit – is another practice in managing frustration on a larger scale; my impatience lurks in the background, waiting for a moment to jump out and undermine my good time now. Mindfulness practices are one way to keep my Observer firmly in the driver’s seat for much of the journey. Another beneficial practice is to embrace the joy I find in planning the move; making a point of being very realistic, practical, and frugal builds useful skills for good self-care, and I feel engaged in imminent change in a positive way.  I’m still very much a beginner, practicing practices. I am still at risk of attacking myself, my will, my resolve, and my intention, from within on any point of vulnerability my demons can grab onto; it makes for some uncomfortable nights, but I am content to show myself some compassion, some acceptance, and some love, and move on from the difficult moments to continue the practicing of good practices. 🙂

It's worth it to take a look at my experience from another perspective...

It’s worth it to take a look at my experience from another perspective…

Today is a good day to practice good practices. Today is a good day to enjoy now, and celebrate small successes that matter to me, most. Today is a good day to enjoy each moment with a smile. Today is a good day to enjoy building my world.

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

Shuffling the Deck

April 29, 2015 //
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I slept well and deeply last night. I woke feeling stiff, and in pain, but in a generally positive place emotionally. It’s an ordinary enough Wednesday. I sip my coffee and consider how meaningless the sentence “It’s an ordinary enough Wednesday” actually is, if one does not know the meaning of the word ‘Wednesday’. It’s quite difficult to have a good quality discussion on a topic, if the participants don’t share a similar understanding of how the words being used are defined. It’s a huge part of the ‘each having our own experience’ puzzle; the way we understand the world, ourselves, and the way we use language have the potential to be misunderstood.

We are each having our own experience.

As with the definitions of words in the spoken and written language we use, our assumptions ‘about’ things and people going on around us define other characteristics of the world, and our experience; our assumptions are quite individual and personal, and may not be shared by others. The assumptions we each make may not even be ‘accurate’ when compared to what can be shown empirically, tested, or verified.

We are each having our own experience – and it may not be ‘real’… or to be more reasonable, it may not be anything at all like the experience a large percentage of other people are having, seem to be having, say they are having – or is being held out as some sort of defining ‘norm’. It’s our own. Exclusively and entirely ours – and mostly chosen, and often based on our assumptions. To be clear, I’m not attempting to say that we are ‘at fault’, ourselves, when someone else acts against us violently, or when we must endure non-consensual experiences inflicted upon us. We can make use of our free will to take action, and some of the actions taken in the world are inflicted on someone, by another, causing pain, injury, or assorted other negative outcomes.

Some of the most horrible things that occur in the world are defended, and often by a great many people, using assumptions and definitions to support them, while the suffering is decried by others, also based on assumptions and definitions. It’s messy. Who is ‘right’? Does the injured party define the circumstances because they are injured by them? Does an aggressor define the circumstances, free to do so based on ‘intent’ versus ‘outcome’? We each have our opportunity in life to examine this puzzle closely; we will each hurt someone, sometime, and we are each at some point hurt, ourselves. When we are hurt, does the intent of the one who hurt us matter more than our pain? When we have injured someone else, which thing is more significant to us: explaining why we didn’t mean our actions to cause injury, why our actions ‘shouldn’t have’ caused injury, or that someone is hurt? Is being ‘right’ more important than treating each other well?

We are each  having our own experience – and I can’t answer my questions for anyone but me, really. I am thinking these things over, myself, because ‘reciprocity’ is on my mind; it’s one of my Big 5 relationship values. Reciprocity, from my perspective, might mean everyone takes turns on a household task, or it might mean that one person does a specific thing routinely because they don’t mind or have unique skill at it, while others also take on tasks similarly suited to their nature in equal measure, thus distributing the work in a way that is balanced and fair to all. Reciprocity can mean ‘taking turns’. Reciprocity, emotionally, means I give support in equal measure to receiving it, and that I back my partners goals and growth equally with my own. “Equal”, “balanced”, “fair” and “reciprocal” are all words, and because we are individuals, we define them for ourselves, quite individually. My need for reciprocity is not necessarily shared by others; it is my own choice to value this quality in my relationships, and to foster it in my own experience. I choose whether to build relationships with individuals, and can’t force my values on them. Sitting here sipping my coffee and considering reciprocity as a relationship value I realize that one thing I think is utterly urgent to be reciprocal with is consideration, itself. Reciprocity is hard to achieve if I don’t take time to consider what has value to others, what their needs may be… Oh, damn. Another definition would be needed… “need” versus “want”.

Each having our own experience…and it hits me hard, as I down my last gulp of now cold coffee; if I am engaged and present in my own experience, awake, aware, and observing the experiences of others while doing so…making the wisest choices I can to take care of me, and meet my own needs over time…listening deeply when others interact with me…practicing non-harm, compassion, and self-compassion…treating myself truly well, and living beautifully…it sounds rather as if on those terms, reciprocity happens, consideration is, and The Big 5 dovetails quite seamlessly with The Art of Being. So…this tells me living my own experience fully, and mindfully walking my path each day is ‘all’ that is required to live a life that is generally contented and joyful. There’s definitely a lesson about attachment sneaking in there, too. My definitions, my values, my goals…your results may vary.

I am a flower, blooming in my own time.

I am a flower, blooming in my own time.

Today is a good day to enjoy the person in the mirror. Today is a good day to do my best. Today is a good day to build emotional resilience and self-sufficiency, appreciating how far I’ve come, and what a lovely journey it generally is. Today is a good day to listen deeply, to love well, and to savor being okay right now.

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

More or Less

April 17, 2015 //
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I am enjoying a lovely quiet evening. It is very different from what I may have expected – a good lesson in letting go of attachment to expectations. It is also very different from I might have planned; having not made specific other plans, those thoughts are irrelevant – the very essence of thought: lacking substance or reality of its own, but seeming unarguably valid. Certainly, the evening is different from what I may have said I wanted, had I been asked, and again the thought lacks relevance, circumstances being what they are; pleasantly calm, quiet, and solitary. Funny that such a quiet evening of contentment and study wasn’t higher on my list of possible desirable evenings… I consider wondering why it wasn’t, but quickly realize that what matters is to enjoy it as it is, without criticism or judgment, and to trust that practicing being accepting of, and kind to, myself on a quiet evening requires no excuses, justification, or defense.

I have my challenges. I find myself struggling to let go of attachment. I have a loyal, kind, and generous nature that leaves me open to exploitation, too tolerant of poor treatment, and with a brain injury that limits my ability to set firm boundaries, or reliably communicate clearly in the moment. It seems strange to admit it so simply; I have refused to acknowledge these traits for so long, out of shame for being weak and broken. I have been hesitant to be vulnerable out of fear of leaving myself open to ridicule. I could be kinder to myself, and benefit greatly from it. I still have a lot to learn, and much to practice.  Hard, too, is the inevitable discovery that things I enjoy in myself, and qualities I choose to nurture because I value them, may not be similarly valued by others; it requires strength and persistence to choose me, and to show myself the loyalty, kindness, and generosity that is so much who I am.

Where does this path lead? I am in unfamiliar territory.

Where does this path lead? I am in unfamiliar territory.

The path to emotional self-sufficiency seems also to be the path to The Art of Being, and a path that speeds to creative freedom, satisfaction, and a less chaotic day-to-day experience. More choices, fewer reactions. More day-to-day calm. More likelihood that I will be able to meet my needs over time.

…Here’s the thing, though, at least for me; my choices really matter, and it is critical that they be made again, and again, and again, even when I am uncertain of the outcome, or experiencing insecurity or doubt. It’s how practice works, and there’s no short cut; I still have to do the verbs. I don’t always get the outcome I’m after…sometimes that seems to matter, at least long enough to blow my heart off course, sometimes it doesn’t matter at all. So…it’s not without effort, or failure; I fall, I get up, I go again…I learn, I grow. I gain perspective, and try again. It’s enough.

Tonight, I make good choices; I complete a project I committed to, and spend the rest of the evening in gentle solitude, enjoying my own company, my own moment…also, very much enough.

A lovely sunny spring day becomes a quiet somewhat chilly spring night. That, too, is enough.

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Categories art and the artist, Brain Injury, Free Will, Love, Mindfulness, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Relationships, Sleepless Nights, solo hiking, Spring, The Art of Being, The Big 5

Subjective Perspective

April 15, 2015 //
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I woke with a nasty headache this morning. It rises from locked up muscles alongside my arthritic vertebrae, like parallel columns of pain, becoming one just at the base of my neck and feeling rather ‘braided’ with tension up my neck, cradling my skull with an embrace of even more pain that wraps the lower back portion of my head. It is not acute nor pulsating, it is a more dull steady presence with more than necessary intensity. I have this headache relatively often. Generally, expressed in words, it sounds like this “I have a headache”. Other headaches sound more like this “I have a headache”. It isn’t possible to tell from words how severe someone else’s pain is. Pain doesn’t show much; by the time pain can be easily seen on my face, I am in so much more pain than can be easily managed that it’s not likely sympathy can do much more than offer a few kind words. I cherish the kindness.

Much of the time, because pain is not easily visible, my experience is one of being haplessly mistreated by well-meaning people, even people who know me well, and profess deep affection for me; they don’t know I am in pain, moment to moment. Simple requests sometimes sound quite ludicrous to me… “Can you just go ahead and…”. I have not yet learned to say “No, actually, I can’t ‘just’… I’m in too much pain to do that.” The amount of pain I am in this morning is well beyond the day-to-day pain I know so well. It’s hard to consider other things and look past the pain…and when I succeed in turning my attention elsewhere, I quickly find that whatever I am thinking over becomes tainted by the pain; my negative bias increases, I feel discontent, angry, frustrated, emotional, resentful… and it so easily changes from an experience of physical pain, to an experience of emotional pain. The result is often that I find myself blaming some circumstance for my feelings. My subjective emotional experience becomes the focus of my attention, distracting me from the pain but leading me down a rabbit hole of mis-information, negativity, doubt, insecurity, and fearful speculation not tied to my actual experience of events. Pain is a mind-altering drug, and it’s always a bad trip.

I woke early today. I woke because of the pain. This headache is that bad. I meditated quietly until the alarm went off; two hours passed pretty quickly. I feel reasonably calm, content, and balanced; I know that the pain has the potential to mess with my mind, and destroy my fragile lovely moment. Mindfulness, self-compassion, kind treatment of this mortal vessel I inhabit, and patient attentiveness to self-care basics will be incredibly important while this headache lingers. I know what to expect when I speak up about the headache, too. “Well, have you…?” and “When I have a headache, I…” or “What have you done for it?” People tend to be pretty well-meaning about headaches. It’s frustrating to wade through the helpful suggestions; I’ve been doing this awhile, and at 52 there’s not much in the way of new stuff to try for this headache. I work on staying calm and focused, and not crying over small bullshit simply because I hurt too much to handle real life well. It’s the best favor I can do the world on a morning like this one.

Choose your adventure. Choose your perspective. Choose your experience.

Choose your adventure. Choose your perspective. Choose your experience.

Oddly, this isn’t really a post about pain; it’s about the very subjective nature of perspective. Pain is a metaphor, but I’m finding it challenging to move on from the pain itself, this morning. Tedious.

I recently read some writing an associate did regarding a shared experience. The subjective nature of perspective being what it is, I reacted to the words before I remember to take a few breaths and approach the words mindfully and aware that the unique perspective presented has nothing whatever to do with my experience of those same events. It took some time to move past my initial reaction of irritation at the ‘obvious’ dishonesty, the ‘irresponsible minimization’, and [to me] clear use of the opportunity for image management; my perspective is also subjective. I managed to set that baggage down pretty easily, and reconsider the words as nothing more than personal narrative, subjective and likely well-intended, without judging the words as ‘truthful’ or ‘honest’. Regardless of any of that, they are the words this associate chose to describe the experiences we shared. While it does say something about my associate’s experience – and my associate – those words have nothing to do with my experience, at all. If I react, buy in, become angry and express my anger with demands that my associate change their perspective of the shared experience we had, I give up my own experience to own theirs as the valid reflection of events. It was a pretty joyful moment when that hit me; all I have to do to enjoy my experience from my own perspective when someone else’s perspective causes me discomfort, alarm, distress, or anger, is to go ahead and continue to have my own experience, from my own perspective! I validate my own experience fully by simply having it. Wow. Simple and powerful.

Every one of us has our own perspective. Being able to comfortably listen and hear another person’s perspective improves my ability to be compassionate, to be kind, to be wise… and it also eases me into a lovely place with myself, too; more able to treat myself well, by honoring my own experience as real and true, and mine. It isn’t about who is ‘right’ – ‘right’ doesn’t enter into my subjective perspective of my own experience – nor does it feature heavily in yours. Arguing about a subjective perception of events isn’t helpful – because we choose our experience, and have no obligation to choose what someone else has chosen. Facts are facts – and I have learned caution, even there; very little of what we share with each other has anything at all to do with ‘facts’. Thoughts are not facts. Emotions are not facts. Values are not facts. Narratives of experiences are not facts. Memories are not facts. Each of those things are entirely subjective, and mostly pretty made up. We are attached to our own, sometimes to the point of being completely irrational about holding on to the ‘rightness’ of them without regard to the pain we cause others.

One beautiful moment, so many ways to enjoy it.

One beautiful moment, so many ways to enjoy it.

Today is a lovely morning, from my perspective, in spite of pain. Today is a good day to live my experience awake, aware, and mindfully. Today is a good day to show the world kindness – because I can, and it’s simply a better way to enjoy my experience. Today is a good day to brush off the things that distract me from love, with an understanding smile; we are each so very human. Today is a good day to be the change.

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

Even Art Takes Practice

April 8, 2015 //
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I spent a restless night, dreaming strange dreams, waking, returning to sleep and repeating the cycle without any stress or agita. It was a restless night nonetheless. I had to take a break from some medication I’d been taking, due to other health concerns, and over days wound up standing on the threshold of Hormone Hell once again. Annoying. Now…now I get to adjust to the hormones all over again, and that’s a few restless nights and strange dreams. It’s not so bad – I think I am getting some better at this. 🙂

In other areas of my experience, the endless practicing of practices, compassionately applying fail sauce when needed, and dusting myself off to practice some more is paying off; every day more small details play out in a way that feels, from my perspective, as though it is my experience, indeed, and that I am generally enjoying much of it – and what is not enjoyable, still tends to be reasonable, understandable, and an opportunity to grow. Perspective matters. Good communication basics matter. The will to let things go, and refrain from making someone else’s experience personal to my own – yeah, those things matter a lot. Is life ‘perfect’? Is it ever, for anyone? Listen to some of the peculiarly specific Bitching of the Rich and Shopping sometime, at a place like Whole Foods – even the privileged and the mighty find things to be discontent about. (Can you imagine a mom barely making ends meet on minimum wage complaining in the grocery store about the packaging at the meat counter being a potential choking hazard for her dog – and how her dog will only eat prime rib, but the cook won’t feed the dog, and is she really expected to open the package, herself? I doubt you’ll ever hear such a thing from a woman on minimum wage or assistance. Whole Foods is great place to listen in on privileged foolishness.) There is a lot of perspective to be had in the world, quietly observing fellow human primates in their natural environment – be careful even around the domesticated ones; human primates are quite dangerous, and easily provoked to verbal or physical violence. (They just aren’t as tame as they look.)

Perspective is a very big deal for me. I sometimes move too quickly through my experience, before I give myself the opportunity to reason, and to choose well. This is an effect of disinhibition – I feel, I react –  I have the thought, I say the words; sometimes it is embarrassing and quite public, sometimes it is frustrating and quite lonely. It is a part of my experience, and I am learning practices to help me manage it. The most critical one is probably meditation. The time I have spent so far really embracing stillness, practicing meditation as though it meets the most basic of biological needs – like sleep, like eating, like breathing, like sex – has taken me a very different direction that I had been headed. One that is vastly more positive, compassionate, agreeable, engaging – supportive of the needs of others, without under-cutting my own. One that refuses to abdicate my decision-making, sense of self, or joy, and refuses to over-compromise when it comes to meeting my basic needs as a human being. “Life-changing” is a fair observation. Perspective matters so much that it not only helped me get this far – it helps beat back the not-as-uncommon-as-I’d-like despair that sometimes hits me when I come face to face with having to put myself first among my priorities, and face rejection, resentment, anger, or the defense forces of the status quo; change is not always a comfortable fit for everyone facing it. My changes impact the experience of others who interact with me. The limitations of my injury sometimes leave me unprepared that what I want and need and will be good for me may face opposition, or be in conflict with the needs of others. There’s perspective, standing by for me in the those moments, reminding me to be kind, compassionate, and remain focused on what matters most – to me.

Like awaiting the inevitable first rose of spring, it is important to trust the process, and know that mindful living, good self-care, and putting my oxygen mask on first will take the journey in a positive direction. "Baby Love" in the garden, the most loved rose in my garden opens first this year.

Like awaiting the inevitable first rose of spring, it is important to trust the process.
“Baby Love”, the most loved rose in my garden opens first this year.

Sometimes I have a peculiar feeling that I ‘don’t know who I am’; it always passes when I realize what I am feeling is really the chasm between who I am, in my own experience, and how different that is than who I sense I have been defined as external to my own experience, by others. Lucky me, this one’s easy; I am the sole and exclusive subject matter expert on my experience, on how I feel – on who I am. There is no ‘second opinion’, only other perspectives not my own. Better still? I choose. I decide. I create my experience. No, those things are not ‘selfish’ in any inappropriate or cruel sense; they are a natural statement of personal power and autonomy, utterly necessary for self-love, self-compassion, self-assurance, and a comfortable sense of self. The Art of Being would seem to require that I go right ahead and be; it’s a verb, and the verb is to choose. 🙂

Today is a good day for choices, for changes, and for love. Today is a good day to be at the top of my own agenda. Today is a good day to embrace what I love about who I am. Today is a good day to enjoy my experience.

 

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Categories Brain Injury, Free Will, gardening, Healthy Living, Hormone Hell, Logic & Reason, Love, Menopause, Mindfulness, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Relationships, Sleepless Nights, Spring, The Art of Being, The Big 5, women, Words
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