Archives for posts with tag: we become what we practice

I’m thinking this weekend I’ll “take a cleanse” – an emotional cleanse. A heartfelt, welcome moment to detox from the poison filling my day-to-day consciousness (because it is also filling my internet bubble, rather unavoidably, because – like so many people – I care about stuff) seems a bit overdue. I won’t care less. I’ll just set aside the news cycles, set aside Facebook (note to self; this requires actually logging out of it, and also just go ahead and temporarily uninstall it from your handheld, it’s just easier that way), log out of social media accounts, update my home pages so that I get only my blog, and a search tab. That’s step one.

Step two in any good cleanse isn’t just about what I’m not putting into my face holes, it’s also about what I am putting in my face holes. It’ll be a grand opportunity to hike, weather permitting, or read actual books, paint, bird watch, chat with friends… It’s not as if there is some shortage of activities to indulge my senses in real life. I’ll make a point of getting good rest, good nutrition, and getting plenty of exercise. I’ll exercise my brain with content that really challenges my thinking in new ways. I’ll learn. I’ll grow. I’ll heal.

It isn’t that I don’t care. I’m sure not less involved, or taking less action. It’s necessary to really care for the woman in the mirror, or I won’t hold up for the long haul, and may become, over time, progressively more reactive, less rational, more emotional, less reasoned – and there is a balance to be struck. We become what we practice.

It's a good day for practicing effective practices.

It’s a good day for practicing effective practices.

What are you doing to take care of you? What are you practicing? Today is a good day to make each choice count, and to become the person you most want to be. 🙂

I’m home. The busy work day is behind me. The week is finished. I sit quietly taking it in; I don’t work tomorrow. I am home. I am alone. Tonight… I’m even lonely. It happens. Just using the word, my eyes tear up a bit. I’m okay, just very human. Tired. In pain. Frustrated by the world every time I hear an adult conversation in passing, or read the news. “Stick a fork in me…” I sigh out loud, the sound of it in the room seems oddly out-of-place with the quiet.

A shower later, and a change into comfy clothes, I’m still in this strange place, poised between contentment and despair. There’s no particular reason for it, really… it’s winter. It’s been a busy week at work. Is that all this is? Am I just tired? I’m struggling to manage some of my self-care basics with the new job. I’m pushing “too hard”, taking too few breaks, getting too little rest… but I also love the job, feel passionate about the progress we’re making, and feel very valued and appreciated. What do I do with that? The long commutes make the days very long indeed, and the evenings very short.

I feel myself sort of… pull back. From everything. Closing the door on “extra people” – as if the friends and loved ones outside the workplace are not in fact far more important to me, day-to-day, moment-to-moment, than even my most esteemed colleague. I come home at the end of the day. Close the door. Sit down. Being fair to my self and my circumstances, it’s rare to feel other than contented on a quiet evening after work, these days. Tonight is different. I remind myself that the sensation of “always” that feels so dull and bleak and immovable is, itself, a part of this feeling – and every sad strained drop of it is pure emotion. Chemistry. Lacking in real meaning, or substance. It’s more a drug than an experience. Squashing it doesn’t help – never has. Venting… meh. I’ve had mixed success there, and my suspicion is that it is the camaraderie of sharing the tale, the connected moment, that results in any apparent success – and fuck, I already know that experiencing an intimate emotional (positive) connection with another human being is a fast track to losing the blues. This is not news.

…But I ache, and I’m tired, and… I’d also like very much to be alone. Now isn’t that a bitch? Feeling lonely, and still wanting to be alone. What the fuck do I do with that?? Well. In this particular instance, I light a fire in the fireplace. I put on some soup. (I made a tasty robust 15 bean soup yesterday in the slow cooker, while I worked from home. It’ll be even better today.) I put on my fuzziest, comfy-cosiest, softest spa socks. I did some yoga. Took some time to meditate. I started choosing to let the stress fall away. I looked the loneliness in the face, and let it be what it is, without piling self-criticism, disappointment, or additional demands on top of it. I lit the lights on the Giftmas tree – and grudgingly made room for the awareness that I was smiling, at least a little. One thing at a time. I started treating myself better, one thing at a time. Rather than continue down the unpleasant path of criticizing my crappy treatment of myself, I’m making a point to go ahead and treat myself better. Right now. Only that. We become what we practice.

Soup will be ready soon. It’s later than I generally have dinner, but I’m also not sleepy. Just tired… and the kind of tired that is mostly brain-tired. Giving my brain a rest isn’t always about sleep. My fingers find the edge of the book I am reading… soup first, though. Later, sleep.

Tomorrow I can begin again.

I’m up earlier than I need to be; it’s Saturday and I could sleep in. Only… I’m awake, so… that isn’t happening. 🙂 Being attached to that outcome (sleeping in) has messed up so many beautiful mornings on which I earnestly wanted to sleep longer and couldn’t. I think, generally, I’ve let that go. It feels pretty good to be awake, okay with being awake, and simply enjoying the additional minutes or hours of the day.

The treeline obscured by fog; I assume the world exists beyond although I can't see it.

The treeline obscured by fog; I assume the world exists beyond although I can’t see it.

Last night was strange. I was not in the mood for company at all, and by the time I got home all I wanted was the peace and stillness of solitude. I started a fire in the fireplace, and sat down with a rare treat – a glass of sherry.

Just as my nerves started to unwind, and I began to relax into a state of lasting contentment, the smoke alarm went off. Okay, startling, but I silence it and settle down. It goes off again. The room does not appear to be smokey at all. I silence the alarm. I sit down, pick up a book. Smoke alarm. Okay, damn it, this is bullshit and I begin to feel agitated. It was an effort to pause the fast-building rage that is my purely animal reaction to frustration. I open windows, doors, and turn on fans. Clearly the smoke detector thinks there is smoke… why don’t I?

I step outside into the cool rainy night air, and breathe deeply; it is by far fresher than the air in the apartment. Okay… maybe there’s something to this? I look out into the night, it doesn’t seem any clearer… I turn and look back into the apartment, still not seeing “smoke” at all. I go inside and head for the little cloth I use to clean my glasses. Ah. Yep. That’s it; my glasses are so smudgy I couldn’t see that the air in the apartment wasn’t entirely clear – it was, in fact, a bit “smoggy”. Well shit. I keep airing out the apartment, feeling a bit aggravated – why tonight? I take time to sit down directly in front of the fireplace to watch it crackle away merrily – it cares not one bit about smoke alarms. I listen to the wind and wonder if it might be preventing the smoke from going up the chimney? Then I notice that the flue lever is much farther “open” than I generally open it, and also that reliable small curls of actual smoke are indeed rolling past the opening of the fireplace and into the room. So, while not billowing out in a definite noticeable way, there has definitely been smoke making it into the room since the fire got started. (Hey – smoke alarm, I’m sorry I was mad at you; you were right.)

Adjustments made, rooms aired out, windows returned to their closed position, fans turned off, alarm silenced… I can sit down, breathe, and relax. Well. I can choose to. I can make the effort. I can begin again. I can also quietly sit until the evening feels quite late, before being overcome by fatigue and calling it a night. Aside from dealing with the smoke alarm, I really didn’t do anything last night. It was exactly what I wanted out of my evening. No television. No music. No people. No fuss. No media news. No conversation. No. Just no. None. Not any. Only the quiet, my glass of sherry, and the stillness.

It was quite lovely, once I finally got to really settle down. I make a point of remembering that I did get to settle down and relax, quiet, content, without stress or fussing – and it’s important that I do that, because as I wrote about all the rest, all the rest became more prominent in my memory, reinforced in the telling. Amusing anecdotes about stressful things can work like that, too; we tell the tale, and it becomes the larger part of our recollection. It is one of the terrible truths of PTSD; the more our trauma haunts us, the more prominent the recollection of it becomes, the more significant in our implicit memory, the more “real” – even compared to other factually real events and experiences that may be going on now. Yikes. So, this morning I make a point, once the tale is told, to also savor the portion of the evening that followed, because the stillness and contentment can be a bigger portion of my experience, if I choose it to be so. Verbs. Choices. Practice. I enjoy the stillness more than the stress.

I’ve no idea what today holds. It is the weekend, and my traveling partner is far away. There is no chance we’ll see each other today. I’m okay with that; although I miss him, I’ve been needing some reliable consistent quiet, and have been struggling to create that within myself in his company. There has been so much busy-ness in my calendar (and my life) since I returned to work: a visit from my step-son, a couple of parties, my traveling partner coming and going a bit more than usual, OPD, a new work routine, a new commute… Every detail of my everyday life was completely overturned when I returned to work. Life has been so busy – and so social – I’ve been left with no time to sort it all out. The timing of my partner’s trip in this instance could not be better. 🙂

I still miss him, greatly, and it is one source of my background stress. I’d very much like to have a living arrangement in which he could come and go utterly freely without concern. Another source of my increasing background stress is my commute; it consumes 10 hours a week of my precious limited lifetime. The transit portion of that commute is rarely pleasant, and puts me constantly at risk of illness. I make a point of living close to work for a reason, and that reason is that I dislike wasting my life commuting. I want that time back! By itself, this is not a big contributor to my stress, it’s a small thing; it drives thinking about moving, though, which causes me major stress.

Mist obscures the autumn skyline of the trees on the far side of the park. I assume they are still there.

Perspective matters. Letting go of attachment helps. 

I remind myself “this too shall pass”. I breathe. Relax. Sip my coffee, and look out across the meadow, into the misty morning; I will have to give up this view in favor of another. More upheaval. My anxiety kicks in, and I breathe through it. This will be something to face, to deal with, and to process for months to come… and that’s okay too. I feel things, and I have tools to process my feelings. 🙂

Today is a good day to consider what I have, what I need, and what I’d choose to change. Today is a good day to embrace that change and make wise choices. Today is a good day to begin again.

The rain continues to fall. I’m okay with that. I play songs that seem relevant to the experience of the rainy morning I’m enjoying. Songs that remind me to “be like water“, and songs that are “on the nose” and songs that are metaphorical.

Being a student is a good beginning, generally.

Being a student is a good beginning, generally.

I’m enjoying the morning before returning to my studies for the day. I smile, thinking of my traveling partner. We both really needed some downtime, and we’re both really getting what we each need; being individuals, what we need differs somewhat. It matters a great deal that we’ve made room for each other to have the experiences we each need, even where those differ pretty radically. “Go have fun doing what you do!” with a genuine smile and real enthusiasm is another way to say “I love you”. I most particularly enjoy the later opportunity to share those experiences with each other in conversation, pictures, and tales of adventure. 🙂

There is more to learn than I can know in one lifetime.

There is more to learn than I can know in one lifetime.

The heavy gray clouds break open briefly revealing blue skies beyond, and I look out across the meadow and the marsh. Will there be sunshine today? The blue seam of sky closes like a zipper. Perhaps not. 🙂

What about this moment right here? I breathe deeply, relax, and feel the smile tugging at the corners of my mouth – one that tends, these days, to be waiting for any opportunity to reveal itself. I’m okay with that. An authentic smile feels as good as a forced one feels strained and unpleasant; either has the power to create an emotional experience, just as our emotional experience can be reflected on our face, in a smile.

We become what we practice.

We become what we practice.

I find myself “stuck”, gazing out the window into the sky, watching the clouds shift, roil, and skitter past on the wind. The autumn foliage, gold, russet, and amber hues, is shaken loose on the wind, tree tops swaying, leaves raining down. Already there are bare branches reaching skyward, tree tops naked, silhouetted against the dramatic cottony whites and grays of the stormy sky. Autumn. Definitely autumn now.

Begin again. Somewhere. One choice. One change. One book. One moment. The day and the opportunity are yours.

Begin again. Somewhere. One choice. One change. One book. One moment. The day and the opportunity are yours.

There is still time to start laundry before the seminar begins for the day. There is time for a lovely hot shower, and a bite of breakfast. There is time for a second coffee – even a third. There is no rush; this is my life. Today is a good day to slow down and enjoy it.

This morning I woke too early, with a headache, and feeling uncomfortable and irritated. It’s a practical thing; I was awakened by the not-distant-enough whine of an idling freight train. It happens now and then. It is both intensely unpleasant, and utterly out of my control. It is also not a sound I sleep through easily… so… up at 3 am.

It’s almost 5 now. Though the whine persists, my anger and annoyance dissipated with practice(s): yoga, meditation (with ear plugs in, honestly), some quite housekeeping, a hot shower… and now, I hear the engine beginning to accelerate, slowly, and pull away. Finally. Culturally, and this is my opinion, we put (and allow) far too much emphasis on industry at the expense of quality of life. Noise pollution is a symptom. I wonder how many other people were wakened by the whine of the train this morning, maybe even not aware of what woke them, or why they woke with a headache this morning. How many bad moods in how many workplaces will it generate? I’m still a little cross about the noise; it’s hard enough to sleep well without that added to the mix.

a change of perspective

A change of perspective is needed.

I take a deep breath, and another, and have a sip of my coffee. I think about putting down roots. I think about my traveling partner. I think about the seasons, and upcoming holidays. For a moment, I even think about work. I let my thoughts pass through my consciousness without commentary or criticism; they are only thoughts. I have another sip of my coffee. I think about how fortunate I am, generally, and delight myself as some recent emotional highlights, beautiful memories, surface, are savored, and make way for the next recollection.

Simple moments of calm joy have value, too.

Simple moments of calm joy have value, too.

It was once a challenging practice to pause to appreciate, and to linger over, pleasant memories. Now it is a commonplace thing that I take time to enjoy regularly, and often find myself enjoying many delightful moments quite fully, in the moment themselves, without reservation or worry. A worthy practice, built over time, has become part of who I am. Although that was one desired outcome, it wasn’t initially something I felt I could count on. Incremental change over time is a thing; we become what we practice.

Where does your path lead?

Where does your path lead?

We become what we practice. Think that over for a moment… We become what we practice. Similarly, we tend to embrace as true just about anything we hear repeated a lot. So… if we hear and read hate, a lot, and we practice being hateful and angry, a lot… who do we become? Hateful angry people? Seems likely. Just saying; we can choose differently, and practice other things. It is literally that easy (and also that challenging).

What are you practicing? In your relationships – how do you treat your loved ones? Those behaviors are practiced. Out in the world, how do you treat others? More practiced behavior. When you interact through media, what communication habits are you practicing? When you filter events through your personalized world-view, more practiced behavior (and thinking) comes into play. What are you practicing? What settings do you tolerate in your ‘auto pilot’? Do you snap at people in the morning? Are you quick to anger? Prone to making assumptions? Attached to outcomes? Defensive or resentful? Dismissive, mocking, hurtful or mean? There isn’t much about how we behave (and how we think) that doesn’t at some point stem from things we practice, and in many cases practice quite willfully… It seems to me, this opens the door to a profound opportunity; we can choose differently, practice other things, become the person we most want to be.  This isn’t new thinking for me; I think about it a lot.

We become what we practice. We can change by choosing our practices differently.

I look back on the woman in the mirror with a certain amount of internal discomfort; although she has changed a lot over the years, we are one, and I still have to own some very unpleasant shit that I have said, and done. That’s part of the journey, too, sorting out the bullshit, recognizing and being accountable for poor decision-making, bad behavior, mistreating people, and making amends where I am able to do so… and where I can’t “make it right” in any practical way, making a sincere apology, remorseful, contrite, and honest about the damage done, and going forward practicing better practices.

Gracious sincere apology for wronging another is one of the most difficult practices, requiring a heightened level of awareness of another’s suffering, and compassion set to maximum. The more I grow as a human being, and the more I become the woman I most want to be, the more I am also aware of how human I am, and how much I have hurt others. Uncomfortable indeed, and certainly it sometimes warrants a sincere apology.

Here’s another day, and another journey. Today is a good day to treat myself, and others, truly well. Today is a good day to be considerate, and a good day to listen deeply. Today is a good day to be kind, compassionate, and gracious. If something goes sideways, and I miss the mark on any of those things, it’s also a good day to apologize and put things right.