Archives for posts with tag: we become what we practice

Dat Path, Tho!

January 11, 2020 //

I enjoy the thought that my Traveling Partner and I are sharing this journey, walking a shared path. Now and then I am reminded that it is, however pleasant, an illusion. We are each having our own experience. We walk our own path. Survive our own hard mile. We endure our own dark night of the soul. We, each, alone care for our innermost heart, and nurture our tenderest wounds. The reminder was powerful, and I am so grateful I was merely a bystander to two paths that suddenly diverged on a Saturday morning. I don’t know if this is a sad story or not, maybe it is, maybe it isn’t – certainly it is a story of change.

I was having coffee with a friend. We get together now and then, on a Saturday morning, and catch up on life and things. A couple, strangers, came in shortly after we sat down, and sat near us, sort of off to the side, definitely within our view, and close enough we could not avoid hearing their conversation, which I’ll share as accurately as memory permits…

He held her chair. This ordinary looking man of apparent middle-class means, allowed his companion to get seated, and they ordered. She thanked him for picking her up from the airport, and for taking her to breakfast. How thoughtful. She smiled. He shifted uncomfortably before speaking.

“So… welcome back..?” He laughed uneasily. His smile was fleeting, and somewhat nervous.

“Are you okay?” she asked, without looking up from her phone. This seemed somehow significant to her companion, and his posture straightened, and the look on his face became resolute, and more sure of himself.

“Yeah. So, about that. I’ve decided to end our relationship.” She laughed with a bit of disbelief, then looked into his eyes and her face sort of… froze. “I wasn’t sure how you’d take this, so… the least I could do was take you to breakfast…”

“You wanted to be in a public place so I couldn’t make a scene!” she hissed, leaning in close. Her face was tight with tears she was fighting. He… was still calm.

He inhaled deeply and sighed. “You’re right of course. I’m sorry. I needed to feel… safe. This is hard. Hard for me, too.”

“Why?” she demanded with a quivering voice, “someone else…?”

“No.” He sounded sad, and lost. “I just… there’s a lot I want to do for myself, to explore on my own. I just… I want to be myself, no compromise, no obstacles, no negotiation, and I haven’t felt able to. I’m sorry.”

They both sat quietly for some time, just drinking their coffee. My friend and I sat drinking ours. Occasionally looking at each other in a soft, sad, “what the fuck?” sort of way, each in our own thoughts, about our own partners, our own paths, our own lives.

Eventually, the man at the nearby table busy quietly breaking up with his partner spoke again. “So… I’ll need the keys to the apartment before I go. I … um… I had your stuff packed up and put in storage while you were out of town, and… um… yeah. I don’t want you to come back to my place, at all. I packed your clothes and things and they’re in your car… I’ll… I’ll just pay the check and take a car service home… is… what I planned.”

She sat looking astonished, helpless… I sensed that it might turn to frustrated fury at some point, and hoped that everyone would keep their heads, and find that calm center in their storms. “Is this happening?” she said quietly, in a child-like voice, as if disbelieving. “Five years, and then… this?”

“Yeah.” he said, “It’s happening. I’m going to go now. Please don’t call, I’d like this to just be… over.” He hands her an envelope, and her numb hands accept it.

“What is this?” she asked.

“It’s an inventory of your things. Please email me if I missed anything. Also… I, uh, paid off your car. I mean… I bought it, but, um… it’s yours.”

“You’re not taking it?” she accused, almost snarling the question.

“No. Why would I?” he asked patiently, “I don’t hate you. I’m just… done. Okay? I mean… I hope we’ve over this really fast, and we both move on with better… other things. …I’ve got to go.” He put his jacket on, and looked around as if he did not expect to see the place again, ever, and left.

The woman sat quietly, staring into her coffee. The other customers seemed also uneasy. Conversations seemed quiet, muted, as with a respectful silence. I know I was, myself, uneasy. I sat with my friend, each of us taking a turn at small talk, both of us thinking about two people – any two people – at any airport, seeing each other again, after some time apart, and suddenly, one path takes a sharp turn for a very different destination. Now and then I glanced her way, although I don’t know what I was trying to see.

My friend and I finished our coffee. We hug and agree to “do this again soon”. We both know we don’t really want it quite as it was, this time… I walk away feeling introspective, and a little bit blue. What if it had happened to me? What about you? What would that be like…? What would you do? I sigh, as I unlock the door of my car, ready – so ready – to return home to see my Traveling Partner, again…

…My “Traveling Partner”… nonetheless, we each walk our own path. We’re fortunate, any of us, to share the journey for a while, aren’t we? It’s not likely we’ll share the journey “forever” (that’s a child’s fantasy, I suspect). I spend the drive home contemplating love, thinking about what it takes to build, maintain, sustain, and nurture love. Thinking about what I’m good at love-wise, and what I still need so much work on. I think about all the things in the world I would like to see and do and be and experience along the way… and I think about sharing it with my Traveling Partner. I think about not sharing it with him. Would I love life any less if our paths diverged? I like to think not…but it would be so painful to find out. I put myself in her shoes, imagine myself sitting with my coffee, alone unexpectedly, no plan, no place,… I breathe, exhale, and relax, grateful that my path, for now, is different. No assumptions. No expectations. Aware that change is a thing that can happen unexpectedly, to anyone, at any time. Firmly, studiously, I am not taking love – this love – for granted. There are verbs involved. Choices. No map.

I took comfort in arriving home to welcoming arms, and a chance to begin again.

Tags a moment of gratitude, be kind, begin again, breaking up is hard to do, breathe, choose wisely, dat path tho!, Do you boo, don't forget to take care of yourself, emotional self sufficiency, experience, listen deeply, love and lovers, MBSR, OPD, perspective, relationships, The Big 5, walk on, walking my own path, we are each having our own experience, we become what we practice, what matters most?

Categories Allegories, Despair, forgiveness, Free Will, gratitude, grief, loneliness, Love, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Parables, Perspective, Relationships, solo hiking, The Big 5, winter

Measured in Words

January 9, 2020 //

I measure a hike in miles. I think measuring my progress over time, as a person, may be easier to do in words.

I started this journey, here, in January of 2013, after my emotional wellness crashed hard at the end of 2012 (due to the combination of a traumatic breakup, a fairly (terrible) new relationship I’d gotten tangled up in, and a serious flare up of my PTSD in the aftermath of the infamous Delhi rape in December 2012). While I sought therapy, I also sought a more useful way of communicating and reflecting on my experience, and ended up here. Since that very first blog post, a rather shy introduction, I’ve written 2013 posts, in 7 years, with an average word count of about 700 words.

…I’ve written, right here, 1,317,956 words. Yep. 1.3 million (and a few more) words…

…I haven’t solved anything by doing so. I haven’t “fixed” myself, or the world, or made any noteworthy mark on society, as far as I know. I’m not bitching, I’m just saying – these are the words of one woman. One human being. One perspective. The word count will no doubt continue to grow. I manage about 187,000 words a year. I write nearly every day, even when I don’t write a blog post (I’m not even going to try to quantify all those words). I average 286 posts per year, which, while it doesn’t amount to reliably “every day”, shows some astonishing constancy. Still… I do miss an average of 79 days each year… about 6 and a half days per month, although I doubt there’s that sort of reliable monthly cadence to it. lol. It feels more as if I take a breather, now and then, for a few days, or when I’m out in the trees camping, and then shake that off and get back to it.

…I find myself wondering how many total words I’ve written, and spoken, over the course of a lifetime… a lot of words, no doubt. 🙂

I sip my coffee and smile. This morning feels good. That’s enough. 🙂

Tags a woman of many words, be careful with your words, being and becoming, consider your words, emotional self sufficiency, I am my own cartographer, in other words, perspective, practicing the practices, speak gently, sufficiency, the map is not the world, there are verbs involved, use your words, we become what we practice, words words words

Categories Free Will, gratitude, inspiration, Mindfulness, Moments, Perspective, Practices, The Art of Being, Uncategorized, Words

A Glitch In My Matrix

January 8, 2020 //

The alarm went off, catching me by surprise and yanking me from a deep, dream-drenched sleep. I got up, without properly understanding that it was the alarm that woke me. Minutes later, I was pushing myself aggressively through my morning routine, tangled up in the misapprehension that I was “running late”. I somehow made the mistake that it was an hour or more later than it was, even though I had looked right at the alarm clock, and then my watch, double-checking the time, and seeing “4:30 am”, and even remembering it accurately. I misunderstood what that actually meant, or perhaps lost track of what that hour of the morning means to me, personally… or something. I quickly showered, and dressed. (No time for coffee!! I’m running late!!) I left the house promptly, and headed to work, a bit bemused by how little traffic there was this morning, and happy to have such a chill commute, in spite of “being late” (I wasn’t late).

To be fair, it’s an easy watch face to read incorrectly. lol

So… about that whole “running late” thing? I couldn’t have been. Realistically, in my current (salaried) job, my hours are flexible nearly to the point of being entirely 100% self-determined every single day…so… “late”? Not really a thing. Just saying, this morning’s weird moment was never really about being late, or not being late; it was just a very quirky sleep disturbance I am sometimes afflicted by. (Yes, I’ve had this experience before, and once or twice even in the middle of the night, in the middle of a holiday, or on a day off. lol)

About halfway to the office, while trying to sort out whether the clock in the car was “wrong” by an hour or I was wrong about the time, my brain finally woke up for real, and I became aware of my error, and that I was, actually, running a bit early, if anything… and had started my day without meditation. Without coffee. Omg. Seriously? For fuck’s sake. lol I certainly felt more purposeful about the drive, at that point; coffee in the office. 🙂

I take a few minutes for meditation, before coffee, contemplating the patterns of light, and bricks, on a rainy morning.

Strange start to the day. I give myself time to sort myself out, and re-sync with the moment, and the day. I let go of the feeling of urgency. I breathe, exhale, and relax, letting a feeling of warmth and good-natured humor fill me up. Weird morning, sure, but no damage done. It doesn’t even amount to a difficult morning – barely an inconvenience. I head upstairs to my desk, mostly ready for the day, still feeling vaguely “displaced” in some subtle way, but it’s not clear why. I let that go, too; it doesn’t seem the sort of thing worth taking personally.

I breathe, relax, and head for the coffee in the break room… it’s time to begin again. 🙂

Tags a glitch in the matrix, be here now, begin again, breathe, does anyone really know what time it is?, meditation, office coffee, patterns, perspective, ptsd, rain on bricks, running late, sleep disturbances, TBI, the map is not the world, unstuck in time, wake up, we become what we practice

Categories Allegories, Brain Injury, Mindfulness, Moments, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, winter

Another Monday, Another Coffee…

January 6, 2020 //

…And another new beginning. Maybe I’ll switch to tea? (Maybe I’m watching a lot of BBC programming…? lol) I chuckle to myself over some amusing recollection from some recently watched quiz show, then break out in a fit of sneezing (after moving a largish stack of paintings in order to make a file cabinet accessible, for later). It’s an entirely ordinary, very routine work Monday… but I still feel wrapped up in the weekend.

I said good morning to my Traveling Partner, he said good night to me, and went back to bed. A noise of some kind had woken me rather abruptly, and a bit early (about half an hour ahead of the alarm) – or I dreamed the noise. I don’t really know if there was an audible noise. Everything is very quiet now, aside from the sound of my fingers on the keyboard, and the traffic beyond the studio window, the world seems to sleep.

I see my therapist in a couple days. I feel a certain measure of comfort in that, as though having a greater-than-usual need to see my therapist for some reason (well… a notable meltdown during the holiday season, a bit of frustration here and there, some “clarity” worth reality-checking… yeah, I probably do need a bit of a follow up… lol). Certainly, knowing I have a reliably trustworthy (and exceptionally skilled) therapist, with whom to work, is a comfort all its own.

Life “feels busy”, almost to the point of being overwhelming – but I’m not yet overwhelmed, and I’m questioning that sensation. Is it simply a form of self-sabotage? Something that sometimes slows me down, or even halts my forward momentum, without really being anything of substance? Just a feeling? I think about workplace-gained project management skills, and tools I have used, and wonder, again, if those translate to use in “real life” – at home? I sip my coffee and consider the beautiful road map of the work my team did last year, which appears almost as an afterthought in our work tools… would I personally benefit from having that “world view” at home, of the projects most dear to me, the future goals I aspire to but struggle to achieve, the day-to-day miscellany that is larger than a task, more complex than an item on a to-do list, and grander than a chore; would I be getting more done if I “managed” those projects more professionally… less haphazardly? (The obvious answer seems to be “probably”…)

I sip my coffee and notice that my anxiety, absent when I woke this morning, is beginning to stir along with the thoughts of “getting things done”, and my concern that I could (fairly obviously) to more with my precious limited time. Before panic sets in on a Monday, I take some deep breaths, exhale slowly, and let all of that go. Another time will do. Now I put it all aside, and give thought to the lovely weekend that has just ended, and make time for gratitude, fond appreciation, and contented recollection. Why do that in such a deliberate way? Well, the answer with the least depth is “because it pleases me to do so, and feels very satisfying”, but it’s not the whole truth…

I make a point of reflecting on recent joyful memories, and gratitude, and appreciating the good in my life very specifically as a practice that tends to “correct for” my overly well-developed implicit negativity bias, resulting in a more positive experience of my own life, more compassionate perspective on the lives of others, and more ability to “bounce back” from stress or new trauma. Yep. Willfully savoring my best experiences, being grateful for those, and deliberately enjoying my life tends to both make my life generally more enjoyable, and also tends to allow me to more comfortably and easily actually enjoy it, in real-time, with less anxiety, and with less risk of my chaos and damage tripping me up, or triggering me for some unpleasant experience. Pretty convenient for me; I like sitting (or walking, or driving), and considering nice things of various sorts, this practice fits right in. 🙂 As practices go, an excellent example of a very effective practice that also feels very good to make the effort to actually practice. 😀

Rick Hanson, PhD, calls this favorite practice of mine “taking in the good” (it wasn’t my original idea, I learned it from him, with reinforcement and encouragement by my therapist). It was one of the easier practices to learn, and one of the most comforting and pleasant to do each day (I rarely forget to, it feels that good). Feel like taking 6 minutes to hear the author of Buddha’s Brain talk about it, himself?

I yawn, smile, and finish my coffee. It’s already time to begin again. 🙂

Tags a moment of gratitude, be here now, be the change, begin again, being and becoming, breathe, Buddha's Brain, do you feel like I do?, emotional self sufficiency, enjoy life, experience, feel the feelings, good self-care, life is a banquet, live live live!, MBSR, mindfulness, mindfulness for beginners, mindfulness matters, perspective, practicing gratitude, practicing the practices, ptsd, relationships, savor the experience, taking in the good, The Big 5, there are verbs involved, we become what we practice, what matters most?

Categories Anxiety, Brain Injury, forgiveness, Free Will, gratitude, Healthy Living, Mindfulness, Moments, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, The Big 5

That’s Not How “Making Things Work” Works

January 5, 2020 //

I woke earlier than I needed to, this morning. No reason. Maybe I’d gotten enough sleep? My anxiety started to increase a few minutes after I woke. Yesterday morning was like this, too. There are steps to take, and they do work pretty well. The key detail is that I have to actually practice those practices. Reliably. Thinking about it isn’t particularly effective; however well I know that there are practices that help reduce my anxiety, doing them is what is required. Verbs. Action. Practice.

What works? Probably a lot of things. I started here. And here. And here.

What works for me, may not be what works for you – but that may not be an obvious certainty until you’ve tried them. So… what worked (for me) yesterday? Meditation. Good self-care. Positive self-encouragement. Taking a walk. And (for me) a bonus; my Traveling Partner was out of the house for a couple hours hanging out with a friend, and I got some much needed solo time (actual solitude, spent actually at home) in which to meditate (more), read, and find an hour of real ‘cognitive stillness” (no TV, no music, no notifications, no conversation, no other human presence…just… quiet). I recognize that the profound desire for “cognitive stillness” and solitude, isn’t a thing for which we all have a uniform need. Some people would definitely not enjoy that kind of deep, stark, uninterrupted stillness, and some people find solitude, itself, quite terrifying. Finding the practices that truly support our individual needs, and our own emotional wellness, is complicated. Try a lot of things. Stick with what works. Be mindful and compassionate with others; what works for you may not work for them. We are each having our own experience. 🙂

Sometimes it’s a good idea to take a minute, and sort things out.

I suspect that a considerable portion of my anxiety, right now, isn’t properly my own. I’m picking it up from relationships and circumstances, from the media news, and sort of “inheriting” the anxiety of people dear to me, as they work through their own baggage, and deal with their own deal. Nothing about that results in the anxiety being less real; it is what it is. I’m feeling feelings. The feelings are uncomfortable, and mess with my mind, and my emotional comfort. No reason to take it personally. I have practices to help with that. Practicing those works. (Talking or thinking about them, as practices, without practicing them, does not work at all. lol Just being real. There are verbs involved.)

Once I noticed the anxiety creeping in around the edges of my awareness again this morning, I immediately began taking steps. Breathing. Meditation. ~~Checking my email.~~ (Um, no. Not that last one. lol) A quiet cup of tea. A bit of reading. I look out the window thinking about taking a walk. The sun isn’t even up yet. It’s quite dark. So… too soon. lol Instead, I reflect on how meaningful and appreciated that few minutes walking yesterday really was.

It was a beautiful day for it. Clear, and chilly without being cold.

It felt good to be out on the trail. I was grateful for the paved path, and that I remembered my cane, which I am definitely needing for longer walks.

Blue skies and trees illuminated by sunshine became a smile on my face.

I found the walk challenging enough, between slippery bridges still wet from recent rain, and my aching ankle, and popping knee, that I only managed a (fairly gentle) 1.22 miles. It still felt great to be out there, just walking, alone with my thoughts.

Gnothi Seauton. I wisely choose not to walk a distance or paths I am not ready for, today.

The distance was shorter than I could easily cover, fairly recently, but I didn’t take the setback personally. I just enjoyed the walk I actually took. 🙂

It was enough to walk in the sunshine, smiling, watching the squirrels.

I find myself glancing through the blinds, now and then, while I write, this morning, hoping for another good day to take a walk. It looks rainy. My ankle and knee (opposite sides) ache. Letting that stop me is counterproductive for several reasons, so I maintain the intention of “getting out there” for at least a mile. I may try to do this every day…

How else will I see all the squirrels? lol

Tags 10 mindful minutes, be the change, begin again, breathe, emotional self sufficiency, MBSR, meditation, mindfulness matters, one step at a time, perspective, practicing the practices, ptsd, squirrel!, taking care of me, TBI, the map is not the world, there are verbs involved, walk on, walk with me, walking meditation, walking my own mile, walking my own path, we become what we practice, what matters most?, where does this path lead?

Categories Anxiety, Brain Injury, gratitude, Healthy Living, Mindfulness, Moments, pain, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, solo hiking, The Art of Being, winter

Dat Path, Tho!

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Measured in Words

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A Glitch In My Matrix

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Another Monday, Another Coffee…

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That’s Not How “Making Things Work” Works

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