Archives for posts with tag: we become what we practice

Sipping my coffee, scrolling through my feeds, reading the posts of friends dropped into this app or that one, during the night. There is content that troubles me, and I see a lot of it; people posting vague remarks that are self-critical, negative, and on a hopeless sort of downer that shrieks of depression, self-loathing, and… a regrettable lack of understanding that there are, still, and yes, even if they are deeply depressed, some choices involved. Harsh. Why the ever-loving-fuck would someone repeatedly post this sort of quagmire of terribly self-contempt-filled morsels on which to feed themselves? Horrifying.

I don’t have to look too far in the past to “get it”. I only “don’t get it”, now. It’s one major drawback, for me, of healing and forward momentum; it can be hard to understand, or identify with, those past challenges. I guess I’m grateful for that, generally, but when I want to offer comfort, or suggest there is another way, I wish I were more easily able to do so. How do I tell someone in such circumstances “that’s just your opinion of yourself, and only for right now, and holy crap – did you know you can change that??”… when it is their own heartfelt convictions, and deepest terror, about themselves, that I’d be seeking to challenge? I mean, I can say words. Words I’ve got – lots of them – but, generally, these friends are not listening to those words. They hear the words they say, themselves, about the self they so loathe. Anything I could (and often do) say is drowned out in the din.

…It can be heartbreaking to scroll past egregious thinking errors that recognizably mire dear ones in misery. We each can only do so much. If a feeding frenzy of corrections, positivity, love, and encouragement, in response to such posts does nothing to bandage a wounded heart… what can? Well… being present helps. Listening deeply helps. Constancy and steady patient friendship helps. Eventually, though, it’s down to that person and those feelings. …And the verbs…? Yep. No surprise; they’ve got to do the verbs, themselves. No one else can actually undertake to do the work to feel better, aside from the person having the shitty experience – particularly if that shitty experience is one they’ve willfully crafted for themselves and reinforced over time.

Well… shit. That sucks. I’d love to be able to reach out a hand to a friend and take their pain away. Generally, it does not work like that. If I cling to them, wrapping myself up in their pain, eventually some may even sap my strength for living my own life, and caring for my own heart – and not out of malice, just done in a way not so dissimilar to someone overboard grabbing for a life vest or flotation device and just holding on desperately. So, I focus on self-care, and listening deeply, and sharing the journey, and “being there” – but I also work to set skillful boundaries, to be there for my own self, reliably, and to avoid getting sucked into drama. I do what I can to encourage friends who are suffering to choose less suffering, if they are able to. I still feel sad when I watch them choose suffering again and again, in a way that appears crafted and willful. My heart aches for them; I’m pretty sure that if they were able to really understand how much suffering they specifically choose, foster, nurture, and feed, they would also understand they could choose differently.

…I couldn’t treat myself differently until I both understood that such a thing were possible, and – but? – also not until I was ready to see myself differently, and as worthy of better treatment from myself. Harsh – but the truth of it is that I can’t walk that mile for anyone else. I can only suggest that there is such a path available to be walked.

It was a lovely quiet weekend, spent in the gentle good company of my traveling partner. Some snow fell. Some rain fell. Movies were watched. Content was shared – as was contentment. It was warm and connected and close. It feels good to share the company of such good companions: my Traveling Partner… and the woman in the mirror. It feels good to be in a place in life where my own good company is precious to me. I finish my coffee, wondering what words it takes to suggest to the worn down, forlorn, depressed, or anxious, that they, too, have this amazing relationship near at hand…? That perhaps the answer to the question “when will I find someone?” could be found in their mirror, right now?

The coffee is finished. It’s time to begin again. 🙂

I remember a conversation I had with my Mother, many years ago. I struggled to communicate to her, at that time, my lack of “sense of self”, and waxed poetic on that topic, attempting to make sense of my experience of adolescence. She was amused, a bit patronizing, and dismissive. Another such conversation, years later, sometime in my early twenties, shortly before a long period of time during which I was estranged from my family (by choice), she was blunt, and frank about her thoughts on that. “Don’t talk to me about “finding yourself”, that’s all bullshit; you’re already all you will ever be.” I felt frustrated, unheard… and crushed.

…Could I seriously not ever be more than the heaping pile of disappointment, ugliness, heartbreak, and wreckage, that I perceived myself to be?? Fuck…

For years afterward, that conversation rang in my thoughts, an echo of being dismissed, and I did try my very hardest to crush my own spirit, to squash any “radical notions” into a very small box, labeled “normal”, with little success…but enough to push myself farther and farther from any deep understanding of who I was – or could become. Not helpful, long-term, honestly. I could have done much better by the woman in the mirror.

I mention it because the result was mostly a lot of wasted time. It’s not time that we’re required to waste, and given the chance to explore the matter of self, over a longer time, I certainly could have, perhaps, learned more sooner, about this human being I am, as I stand here now, and who she could become, given the solid foundation of wise self-reflection, considerate decision-making, and skillful selection of practices to be practiced over time. I learned much, regardless… but… it could have been a different journey. Very different.

Okay, now that’s said, I’ll also say that there’s little time, now, to further waste on spiraling ruminations of what I did not do, or failed to choose, or any of all the things that are now entirely and wholly behind me. I’m done with all of that, and the outcomes are now part of my experience – nothing more. Experience is good for what it is, but it also isn’t “everything”. “Then”, as it turns out, isn’t part of “now”.

Beginning again isn’t an empty suggestion, or just words on a page, it’s intended as an encouragement, as a rallying cry for change, and as a moment to break firmly from the past – however recent, however distant – and start fresh. New thinking. Self-reflection. Improved decision-making. Wiser choices. Heading for a future self, someone who is much more like that self I would most like to be. I mention it because it’s a lovely day for self-reflection, and for taking a moment to pause, and see just exactly where I am on this path – and where I want to go from here. It’s a moment. One of many. The only thing that holds me back from forward progress in becoming the person I most want to be is my own decision-making about whether to do so, and the actions I take that follow up on my thinking.

Are you the person you most want to be? Have you “found yourself”? Do you even have a clear understand of what “finding yourself” could mean?

It’s a good day to begin again. 🙂

Who are you?

Where are you going?

Start with a question. 🙂

I’m still getting used to living with my Traveling Partner again. I apparently forget to write… a lot. LOL Well… there’s some good writing archived here, in older posts, and a lovely reading list… I figure we’re good here, and the occasional miss isn’t likely to cause me (or, realistically, you) any real harm. 😉 I’m still adapting old routines into new routines. Still adjusting to small changes and differences in my day-to-day experience that are part of the new normal. Change is still a thing, and amusingly, remains a constant I can count on. 😀

Most mornings on which I leave for work without writing, I do so promising myself I’ll maybe write on my lunch break, or perhaps after work… then I work through my “lunch break”, head home, and spend a lovely intimate connected evening of partnership, love, and joy, and forget all about it. I wake, notice I didn’t write, and overlook it again. lol I smirk at myself and sip my coffee; it takes me some time.

The city. The snow falling.

I left work early, yesterday, and finished the day from home. It was snowing pretty steadily.

The view from home, still snowing.

It snowed yesterday, all day and into the evening. It didn’t start sticking until later in the afternoon, and although it snowed rather a lot, and the flakes stuck, some, there’s very little cause for concern this morning, and the road in front of my house is only wet, not icy or covered in snow. I could work from home… but it doesn’t seem necessary at all. I sip my coffee and consider which makes more sense today… It’s very nice to have that choice. I take a moment to appreciate that, and seek to begin the day with gratitude.

Ups, downs, complicated plot twists, choices, actions, consequences, circumstances; all of it seems to require the same things of me. All of it requires that I adapt, that I adjust, and that I change – or make changes. Living life is very much about the verbs; there is effort involved, even in refraining from making an effort. There are choices involved, even in refusing to choose. We change, whether we choose change, or whether change chooses us.

I pause my writing, finish my coffee, and meditate. I return to the writing.

I woke ahead of the alarm, and got up expecting it to be a work from home day, but… it doesn’t really look like that’s necessary at all. 🙂 I like the downtown location of my new job, and enjoying a couple hours surrounded by the urban buzz of downtown activity is still enjoyable, for now. The views from the 9th floor windows are still enticing. The convenience of the location still exciting. Besides… the views! Yesterday I began taking advantage of close-to-work parking on the other side of the river (less costly, still provides the convenience of having a shorter commute, puts a lovely walk into my commute) by walking from the parking location, over the bridge, and through the downtown business blocks to the office. It’s not a long walk, less than a mile, actually, and quite pleasant. The distance isn’t a goal, or a limitation, it’s only an observation. 🙂 I find myself noticing I am eager to repeat that experience, and hopeful that the walkway across the bridge is not icy. Eagerness? Huh…

…Eagerness, specifically, is one of the first things I lose in life, when I am depressed, or unhappy, or stricken with anhedonia or ennui, and even when I am stressed out, or overwhelmed, or feeling weighed down with obligations, deadlines, and responsibilities. Eagerness may be a signpost of emotional wellness, for me… I had not previously considered that… had I? I sit with that for a few moments, and decide to make the commute into the office, for the pleasure of enjoying the walk. 🙂 The morning feels mild, when I step outside to reality check my notion against the real-life feel of the morning.

I’m eager to begin again. 🙂

I woke a bit ahead of the alarm. S’ok. I’m feeling better than I did when I left work Friday. I’m even up to going to work. I’m definitely feeling better, and even “over it”.

My Traveling Partner took care of me, cooking and keeping things on track around the house, while I was sick for what had remained of Friday, all of Saturday, and a bit of Sunday. By evening I was feeling okay. I even look back on it as a “lovely weekend”. 🙂 Definitely a quiet one, filled with rest and nurturing. Lovely.

Here it is already Monday. Already so much to do, to plan, to consider, to get done… I could borrow all that for this moment, and fret endlessly about things I don’t even have to deal with yet. I don’t, though. I sip my coffee, read the news with considerable care and being particular about where it comes from, and go through my email. I meditate. I relax. This time is my own. It is quiet, and I am here, now. 🙂

In a few moments, I’ll finish my coffee, without remorse or resentment for the day and week to come; it’s a time for work, and new beginnings, and change. “Nothing to see here” – this is life, being lived. At present, that feels splendid, and I take time to fully appreciate and savor this good moment, without any attachment to it, or any expectation that it is any more durable than any other moment; moments pass. That’s okay, too. I sit with the moment, present, aware, and fully immersed in it, built of it, observing blending with experiencing. Standing in my own footsteps without any yearning or discontent.

I smile and sip my coffee.

I breathe.

Relax.

I begin again.

Well, new job… new opportunities for contagion. lol Shit. I’m sick. Oh, it’s not any sort of dire life-threatening sort of thing, just an annoying virus of some kind. It began with robbing me of my appetite night before last, but I didn’t really notice that. Yesterday the tickle in my throat, and a spectacular fit of sneezing heralded the coming of the new virus with more certainty. By midday, in the office with it, the weakness, aching joints, and fatigue, joined the party, and I went home to take care of myself. I think my Traveling Partner may have it, too, but I was too sick yesterday to be at all clear about that; he was an absolute pro at providing nurturing and care, and if he was sick, too… wow. It wasn’t obvious, and as sick as I was, we enjoyed our time together.

…I meant to actually just go to bed, and to do so early. What I actually managed to do was sit around wrapped in a fuzzy blanket staring blankly at the television for several hours, then went to bed. lol I woke too early, but also too… awake. Now? Now I’m up. It’s a new day. I get started canceling plans; I am still feeling ill, and there is no good reason to expose my friends to this. I’m already looking forward to that moment when I… just go back to bed. Self-care first, and some coffee, then I will yield to the call of warm blankets, and a quiet room.

Mindfulness will not prevent a head cold. A great meditation practice will not prevent me from feeling confused, weak, and ache-y, when I’m sick. This is just real. I keep grinning every time I consider the “new love” excitement of realizing that mindfulness practices really were helpful for me – every day, every moment, significantly improved with them – and how easily I was tempted into enthusiastic cheer-leading, and also into gradually slipping into thinking errors about what it was capable of doing for me. Great self-care means practicing all the practices that support my wellness – emotional and physical – without putting any one of them on such a high pedestal that it becomes a set up for failure, over time. I’m not dissing meditation or mindfulness, at all, I’m just pointing out that – as is often also the case even with the medicines we take – no single practice (for mindfulness, for self-care, for emotional well-being, for physical health…) can do 100% of everything we need – for everything we need. Just… It doesn’t work like that.

I’ll still meditate today, if I’ve the mind for it. It’s an important practice, a foundation of my emotional health, and I get a lot out of it. I’ll still practice mindfulness, as much as I am able to while I’m feeling ill, and whether sick or well, it’s a practice I find worthwhile for keeping me grounded, realistic about life, and able to maintain a clear perspective on the things that matter most to me. I’ll shower, and practice good hygiene. I’ll make the effort to eat healthy calories. I’ll drink water. I’ll rest. No one of these great practices will cure the common cold. It is what it is. They are what they are. Only that.

…Imagine how awkward, uncomfortable, disappointing, and frustrating it would be, if I fostered a belief that meditation would cure my cold… and then it just didn’t. I might be angry. I might give up on my practice, and lose the benefits it does provide me. I might lash out at others, or rhetorically, spreading my feelings around my tribe or community, and undermining the practices of others with the festering wound of my disappointment and my sense of failure. I would wonder if I were “doing it wrong” and whether it’s “all bullshit”. What a lot of wasted emotional bandwidth. 😦

Meditation has been a practice that has served me well, thus far. I continue to practice. I value the effect it has on my day-to-day experience. I am emotionally more well, in the context of having a committed meditation practice. It’s still only what it is, and it can’t be more than that.

Today I have a cold. At some point, I’ll meditate awhile, and when I’m done with that… I’ll still have this cold. These experiences are not related to each other, and that’s entirely okay. This? This is not my best writing. It is, however, a parable. A moment to pause and reflect on what meditation is – and isn’t – and what it do – and what it don’t do. 😉

Once I’m over this sickness, I’ll definitely begin again. 😀