Archives for posts with tag: war

I’m sitting quietly, waiting for the sun. It’s a Monday. It is also 10 days until my upcoming coastal getaway. I’m not really counting down the days, although I am eager to enjoy the time painting and savoring my own company. I’m here, now. This isn’t a bad place or time to be. I even got some painting done yesterday. Amusingly, one of the two pieces is a recollection of a foggy sort of misty morning at the very location I plan to stay.

I had originally planned to camp and even try a new spot, but I needed to change the dates to fit my Traveling Partner’s care needs and PT schedule, and the new timeframe has less pleasant weather in the forecast, and I’m not even actually up to the amount of manual labor solo tent camping would require – and it would be a huge struggle to paint outdoors on rainy days. With all that in mind I finally yielded to the obvious and booked a room with an ocean view. Good enough. Better than that, actually, and I am excited.

..I’m also here, now…

My getaway is coming up. I’m pretty much always ready. I’m not emotionally attached to the outcome, because it could be that my partner won’t be enough recovered to really get by adequately without my care. If that’s the case, I’ll cancel with regret, get over my moment of disappointment, and move on. Priorities.

This morning I briefly went over all that in my head, again, and moved on. Again.

My dreams the last several days have been full of war and images of the planet burning. Grim. I avoid taking them personally, or blowing them up into more than what they are – only dreams. Almost unavoidably, the images turn up in my art anyway. My dreams sometimes fuel my inspiration. Modern warfare (any warfare, really) is pretty fucking terrifying. The cost is high. The price of victory excessive in a reality where there are no real “winners”. War makes everyone a loser. Death and destruction and chaos and trauma…no good outcomes in war. The other painting I painted over the weekend comes directly from my nightmares.

Drone warfare and it’s far reaching consequences, reaching even into my art, and my dreams.

Still, painting feels good, and it helps to paint. There was nothing on fire in my dreams last night, although my sleep was restless and interrupted. It’s been pretty bad lately, actually, and I’m not certain why. Maybe physical pain? Background anxiety over distant world events I can’t control? Concern over the upcoming election? (Did you also feel it as a direct threat to your personhood when you read or heard that Trump said “women won’t have to think about abortion anymore” if he is reelected?) It’s a scary world sometimes. I’m glad painting gives me a voice for things I don’t know how to say with words.

Huh. This morning started out fairly cheerful. I find myself wondering if that was a bit forced, or whether I’ve simply managed to make a “wrong turn” somewhere along the way. I give myself time with my thoughts. I’ve got shit on my mind, clearly, and the way out is, reliably, through. I feel that aching need to be heard. To be “visible”. To be understood and validated. Tears well up and spill over. I miss my Dear Friend who died shortly before Spring. There are very few people I feel emotionally safe unburdening myself to, specifically regarding war and trauma and misogyny, and the lingering wounds of ancient personal horrors that follow me still. She was one. Gone now. My Traveling Partner has long been another (but for now I’m in the role of caregiver and must be sparing and deeply considerate about burdening him while he heals). I guess practical wisdom suggests I make an appointment with my damned therapist. That’d be pretty grown up of me.

For now, I breathe, exhale, and relax – and let the tears fall. It’ll pass. That’s predictable and reliable, and there is no shame in honest tears, and there’s rather a lot going on in the world worth crying over.

I look to the sky for any hint of daybreak. Soon. I’ll get a lovely walk in, along a favorite trail, then head home to begin an ordinary enough Monday. My tears will dry, and I’ll begin again.

I’m sipping my coffee and thinking about green tomato pickles. It’s not a random thought; I’ve got a lot of green tomatoes in the garden, and the season is quickly ending. Rather than waste that bounty, I have been thinking about what to do with those green tomatoes. Pickles? A relish? Sliced and fried? I’ve got options.

…Live is rich with options…

Last night my Traveling Partner and I closed out a lovely day with continued conversation about various household options, most particularly what he’s going to do about/with his work & gaming space. He is very much one of those folks who will regularly change things up with the decor, the arrangements, the utility of a given space. I’m one of the other sorts; I like to “figure it out” and have things as I like them, and then simply live with that more or less indefinitely until something forces me to consider a change. I find myself less likely to “become lost” in the middle of the night as though I’ve awakened in an unfamiliar place, if my place remains familiar. LOL No criticism of my partner’s approach, it’s just one of many variations on the theme of being human. Some people also drink tea, instead of coffee. Just saying – there are options.

…We both drink coffee…

…Okay, he also drinks quite a bit of iced tea, and I enjoy the occasional cup of hot tea on a chilly day, or in the afternoon. lol Options.

I spent yesterday afternoon in the garden. It was lovely time, well-spent. I didn’t get as far with things as I might have liked. I decided to let a few more tomatoes ripen on the vines, while there are still warm afternoons for them to do so. My original intent had been to cut the vines down and strip the green tomatoes from them and then… do something with those. I’ll still have that opportunity, it just won’t be this weekend. More time to decide on pickles or relish or some kind of delicious sauce for a chicken dish, or perhaps just fried up and served with scrambled eggs and toast some morning. 😀 I ache today, although whether it’s due to the work yesterday or the likelihood of rain today, I don’t know. It’s among the many things that don’t really matter, I suppose.

…Some things definitely matter more than other things…

I’m listening to the rain already, on a video. Considering all the many options for “content” that I could consume, it may seem strange that I so often choose this… but I find it both relaxing and also suitable for masking other sounds in the background. I enjoy it. I’m definitely a fan of choosing the options I most enjoy, when I’m able to do so. I’m fortunate that at this point in my life I am in no way prone to taking that inclination to hedonistic extremes; it can go very wrong for some people.

I sip my coffee and think my thoughts. Last day of a long weekend, for me. Work day for my Traveling Partner. I’ll likely find something to do at some point and do that… whether here or elsewhere is as yet unknown. I think about self-care practices, and I think about creative endeavors, and I think about the spaces in my life where those things collide…

…My Traveling Partner sticks his head in my studio and points out that I’ve got a good opportunity to have a soak before it starts raining today. It’s tempting… very. He points out that I am reliably in a better mood and feel better after a good soak. He’s right about that. So…

…Some time later, after a lovely soak on a not-yet-rainy-but-already-misty morning, I return to my writing and my now-cold coffee with a profound feeling of contentment, and a handful of homemade chocolate chip cookies. 😀 Options!

I’ve no idea what the rest of the day holds… I know I have options. Choices. Undetermined potential in the hours ahead… it’s a nice feeling. I munch a cookie and sip my coffee feeling as if “all is right with the world” – though I know that truly that is not the case in any global real-world way. Individual self-care requires me to care for this individual that I am, with my whole attention and will, and legitimate authentic consideration for myself and this fragile vessel. In this limited sense, “the world can wait” – these individual moments of contentment and joy have real value. Perhaps if more of us were focused on delivering, enabling, creating, and sharing moments of joy there’d be less will for bombing innocent civilians (or, frankly, anyone at all) into remnants of flesh and memories? Suffice it to say I am not unaware of the horrors of war, nor what is going on in the world beyond my little suburban home in the countryside – I just also definitely need to (and will) take care of myself. I’ve learned that lesson over a painful lifetime. “Put your own oxygen mask on first.” It’s good advice. In the event that oxygen masks deploy, whether for real or metaphorically, it definitely makes good sense to mask up before you start trying to put masks on other people. 😉

You’ve got options. Consider them. Take a minute and do it with intention and deliberation. Choose wisely. You are the architect of your own experience. You are your own cartographer on life’s journey. Choose your path and walk it. If you find that you’ve strayed…? Begin again.

I’m waking up, this morning, on the other side of change. It’s interesting to feel it  unfolding in my experience; different actions result in different outcomes. My appointment yesterday was somewhat intense, challenging, very intimate and connected, and…personal. It didn’t feel ‘bad’, or cause me great distress. That alone is a change in my experience. The everyday practice of taking a few moments for real stillness, for calming my mind and my heart simply as an exercise in mindful presence, and doing it regularly, has definitely changed my emotional resilience, and reduced my level of panic when I am overwhelmed, which happens less easily, and less often. Progress.

When I choose to behave differently, I change the way I interact with the world, and potentially open new opportunities and choices for people involved in my life. It isn’t about ‘fair’ or who did what first. It is very much about making real choices to be who I most want to be, to willfully and deliberately choose to honor my values, and act in accordance with them. It is about who I am, and how I treat fellow humans along the way. I create the world with my choices and my actions, or at least that small piece of it that revolves around me. Sounds so simple. Figuring out those pesky choices is the challenging bit. I’m definitely certain, at this point, that repeating ineffective behaviors again and again is not going to change an unappreciated outcome.  I’ve also got substantial empirical evidence to support the idea that treating myself badly limits my ability to treat others well, and that treating others badly generally results in two outcomes: one, people react and behave in life in accord with the way they are treated by others, and two, it tends to set up a perception of ‘who I am’ in their experience that isn’t very pleasant when reflected back on me in the way they choose to interact with me later.

I don’t always see my progress. I definitely experience my challenges in a visceral and immediate way. It can make for a pretty negative experience without the balancing effect of a daily meditation practice. At least, that has been true for me. (Your results may vary.) What I bring to my experience, myself, definitely colors that experience, affects my understanding of my experience, and filters it through the context of my chaos and damage – often in spite of efforts to be more present in the moment, more ‘now’, more mindful, more aware – and less ‘think-y’.  I guess that’s why it is ongoing ‘practice’ with no ‘mastery’ in sight.  This morning is a little different from other Thursday mornings, largely because Wednesday evening had a different outcome; we made different choices, my partner and I. I am more aware of small everyday differences in my choices, decision-making, and experience, these days.  It’s more important than I understood that I, myself, acknowledge and validate my small successes from within; it’s part of that ’emotional self-sufficiency’ notion, and it feels pretty good to enjoy this experience of recognition, alone in the dim light of dawn over my morning coffee.

There’s a lot of violence and tragedy in the world. Humans killing humans. Humans treating other humans badly. I can choose differently, myself, and although I am ‘just one person’ – I am also, actually, one person making choices, and that matters. I can choose, myself, to be non violent. It makes a direct and immediate difference in every one of my relationships with individuals, every time I make that choice. That is true of each of us, each time we make any one choice we do make; it matters, and it changes the world. I suggest, based on my own experience, that when we choose actions that result in violence, that result in overstepping the boundaries of others, that result in actions which violate another human being, or our own values, it also changes the world – and every one of those choices is an act of will.  Choose differently, if you want a different outcome.

Beyond grieving, beyond acknowledgement, what will you choose to do to make it better?

Beyond grieving, beyond acknowledgement, what will you choose to do to make it better?

So, here it is Thursday, and I’m headed to  work. Today I won’t bomb any school children in their sleep, or violate boundaries willfully. Today I won’t steal, murder, or deliberately put other human beings in harm’s way. Today I won’t use my ideology to justify the maltreatment of others.  Today I will not go to war. Today I will not justify bad acts with my experience of anger. Today I will not make choices that worsen the circumstances of others in order to profit. There are probably very few among us who ever do most of these things – but I snuck in a couple that I know many of us do choose. It’s pretty easy to casually use ideology to justify mistreating someone whose ideology is different; the ease of it doesn’t make it excusable, or less ugly. Certainly, many of us have used our own subjective experience of anger to excuse treating someone else badly, and my observation is supported by the plethora of news articles about domestic violence, and police brutality; the reality  of it doesn’t excuse it. Wheaton’s Law truly covers the basics;  that and The Four Agreements could easily ‘save the world’… but there are choices involved, and ideology and anger can get in the way of good choices.

Today is a good day to treat human beings with humanity. Today is a good day to love and to help. Today is a good day for compassion. Today is a good day to change the world.