Archives for posts with tag: what are your values?

Yesterday… fucking hell.

The details don’t much matter, and the decision to have the Anxious Adventurer move out was already made (planned for April, after winter weather is not a serious risk). I had hoped we’d all coexist relatively peacefully in the meantime. Yesterday evening was revealing, and unfortunately nonnegotiable boundaries were violated (and had been for some time, although I was not explicitly aware of it, yet). I’m disappointed, and honestly still rather angry. The plan is still locked in, that hasn’t changed. How I feel about this third human being under my roof has changed –  a lot. I sigh to myself, annoyed to be sitting here dealing with that bullshit at all.

Well shit. I really wanted to make things work comfortably well with the Anxious Adventurer coming to move in with us. There are a lot of potential advantages to shared living, and our society places value on family.

Wanting something isn’t enough

I am disappointed that this won’t work long-term, and my Traveling Partner admitted that the downsides and inconveniences outweigh the value for him, too. I know the additional emotional labor, for me, has outpaced the day-to-day advantages to having an additional family member in the household. This shit is hard. I keep asking myself if I’ve done my best, and wondering if I have failed to be… something. If we were each different people dealing with different issues, this totally could work. I keep thinking about that, too. Am I depriving my beloved Traveling Partner of the opportunity to be close to his son? I think I’ve been persistently encouraging and supportive, coaching where I could…

I’ve struggled with having less privacy, with being required to do too much emotional labor, with the lack of personal space, and the frustration of trying to cohabitate with someone who showed up wholly ignorant of some commonplace life skills, and basic manners, but I am not looking forward to the practical requirements of the changes ahead; more g’damned work. I’m simultaneously very much not sorry this will soon be over, and also deeply regretful and disappointed that it didn’t work out.

…If you invite a feral animal into your home, you mustn’t be surprised when it shits on the carpet, but you also don’t have to let it stay if it won’t learn new ways…

I breathe, exhale, and relax. Human beings being human. Communication is complicated. Moving into a strange household in a faraway place where the manners and expectations are new is challenging. I knew going into this that it would present some variety of difficulties, but figured we’d work them out together, as families do. Like an orchestra with musicians looking at different sheet music than the players alongside them, there was little harmony and a lot of wrong notes. I’m fucking over it. I’m annoyed with myself for being as angry as I am. It’s not reasonable to blame a feral animal for not being well brought up. I just also don’t want to deal with the associated bullshit.

We each make choices. The Anxious Adventurer made his. He chose poorly, in my opinion, and in spite of steady support, encouragement, coaching and guidance. I sigh in frustration and disappointment. I don’t wish him ill, but I do wish I weren’t dealing with these circumstances at all. I remind myself how close April really is. I lived in a tent for almost a year with 15 guys, most of whom i barely knew, a couple of whom I actively disliked, and it was…fine. I can endure 60 days more of this crap, too. It will pass.

Once he’s gone, I have no doubt there will be things I miss. He’s my Traveling Partner’s son, and I hope he visits in the future – I just don’t want to live with him, at least not right now, and I don’t think I can persuade myself to trust him again. If nothing else, he needs to take some time and work on the man he wishes to become, and I really can’t help him with that (and he does not know how to accept help yet). Sitting here this morning, listening to the rain falling, and waiting for the sun, I don’t even want to try to help him further than I have. It’s not a useful way to spend my time.

A new day dawns, full of promise and opportunities, but we’ve each got to make our own choices, and do our own work.

I breathe, exhale, and relax. I feel settled with myself and my decision making. I feel comfortable in my skin, and accepting of the person I have grown to be over time. The journey is the destination. There is further to go on this path. We each walk our own mile, each having our own experience. I do hope the Anxious Adventurer finds his way.

I turn my attention to this moment here, now. The rain falls steadily. I watch the predawn twilight become the dawn of a new day, and in spite of the dreary gray of this rainy morning, I’m filled with eagerness. I am having brunch with the Chaotic Comic this morning. She shares some of the communication challenges of the Anxious Adventurer (as do many others in their general age group). There is a key difference that limits my irritation with those challenges in our friendship; I’m not having to live with them. My friend is also more receptive to discussion, and more open to considering suggestions for potentially useful changes and able to speak up to explicitly reject suggestions she does not favor. It feels like a conversation – because it is. Maybe I shouldn’t be surprised; she’s a comedian and “yes, and…” is an important part of improvisation, a learned skill.

We become what we practice.

… Still… I do wish I could have made things work, for my Traveling Partner and his son. I’d have liked to provide a firm foundation for them to deepen and build on their relationship, and I’m disappointed to have failed. I sit listening to the rain and considering what I could have done differently, myself, but it mostly isn’t about that. I can’t do that work for someone else, only for me. I’m walking my own path.

I sigh to myself and make room for gratitude. I have much to be grateful for, even within the context of this disappointing and aggravating shared living experience. I’ve learned some things about myself. Having some help was… helpful. I truly needed it, so many times. I breathe, exhale, and let my anger go. It has served its purpose and only gets in the way, now. Brunch soon, and a chance to begin again.

It’s early, still. I’m at the trailhead and ready to walk a couple more miles in these boots. Soon. I jot down some notes, details of my thoughts as I made the drive to this place. Notes to guide a conversation with the Anxious Adventurer a bit later today. Problematic assumptions may have been made, and these require clarification, and a clear resetting of expectations. Boundaries need to be clearly pointed out, and reinforced. Household rules and day-to-day “standard operating procedures” need to be clarified. We’re all in this together, but it’s frankly not a democracy (at all), and it’s important we all have a shared understanding of some basic details regarding housekeeping, basic manners, and the practical requirements that everyone “hold up their end” without nagging or dropping a fuck-ton of additional emotional labor on me (or on my Traveling Partner). So… I make some notes. I know what I’d like to communicate. I know I want to maintain a comfortable, considerate tone, and that I have a further obligation to myself to avoid undermining (or renegotiating) my firm boundaries.

I sigh quietly to myself. I catch a frown as it develops, when I wonder “how the hell did I get here?” – I’m childless by choice. I for sure did not anticipate being in a position of having to provide “parenting” to what appears to be a grown ass adult. Another sigh, and I hit the trail with my thoughts.

A new day, a new opportunity to begin again.

The morning air is still and warm, hinting at a hot day ahead. It’s so quiet, the sound of my footsteps and my tinnitus are the loudest sounds I hear. There’s a police siren in the distance. Sounds of traffic on the highway along the edge of this protected nature preserve. No breeze. Somewhat humid. The feel of the air seems “heavy”, and I am reminded of summer mornings growing up in Maryland. I get to my halfway point before the sunrise and sit down on the convenient bench to meditate, reflect, and write, as I watch the sun rise.

I breathe, exhale, and relax. It’s a pleasant quiet morning. I savor the moment. There’s no reason to rush this; the moment is mine to enjoy.

I had an exceptional and excellent day with my Traveling Partner, yesterday. With his pain more skillfully managed (finally), and less chaos and stress generally, we comfortably relaxed in each other’s good company, talking and connecting, sharing, and really enjoying each other. It was a wonderful day enjoying the companionship of my best friend and lover, my Traveling Partner on life’s journey. We laughed and talked deeply and intimately. We shared the serious and the lighthearted. It was a great day, well-spent.

… Maybe today will be another like yesterday…

… Maybe it won’t be…

… What will I do with the opportunities ahead of me? What choices will I make? There are so many opportunities, so many choices. So much of my experience is within my own control…

I watch the lowland mist drift over the marsh as the sun rises into a shell-pink sky. I listen to birdsong. Beautiful morning. Beautiful moment. I sit smiling, feeling grateful for this sunrise (and so many others). I think about how far I’ve come as a person, and how much my Traveling Partner and I have grown, together. I think about the lessons I’ve learned over time, and what matters most (to me). I reflect on how best to communicate these ideas in words, and ponder what to share and what to keep for myself.

Self-reflection is a critical practice, for me. It comes with an interesting complication in the subtle distinction between reflection and rumination. Self-reflection is deeply informative and can guide my decision-making in a healthy way. I learn a lot through observation and self-reflection. Rumination, on the other hand, generally provides me with nothing productive, serving to reinforce thinking errors and “doom spirals”, and retraumatize myself with “ancient pain”, and internalized bullshit. Rumination masquerades as self-reflection, but doesn’t “do the work”, and doesn’t get me anywhere. I sit with that a while, and consider how best to communicate the distinction to someone struggling to find their own way.

Another critical practice for me is practicing a positive outlook, generally. I don’t mean faking positivity – that can quickly become toxic, in spite of the positive veneer. I mean to say I practice being authentically positive as much as I am able, and seek to minimize any tendency to bitch and complain “recreationally”, or for an effect, or for humor. Negativity is unpleasant, contagious, and corrosive in most social interactions. Time spent bitching about a challenge could be better spent on problem solving and action. I’m not a fan of forced smiles or inauthentic cheerfulness. I also don’t think the choices are “either/or”. I do my best to be positive, sincerely, and to be grateful, and aware that things could generally be far worse. It does take actual practice sometimes, although continued practice over time has truly changed my thinking and improved my overall outlook on life. Worth the effort.

The sunrise as a metaphor for incremental change over time.

I practice. I change. I begin again. It’s a journey, and the journey is the destination.

Choose your steps wisely. Select your practices with care. Keep practicing. Fail, and reflect, and learn, and begin again. Repeat as needed. We become what we practice. Who do you most want to be? What are you practicing? Will your current practices reliably get you to your goals? What needs to change – your practices, or your goals?

Seeking illumination in a sunrise.

I sit a while with my thoughts. Pleasant morning for it. Soon enough it’ll be time to head back up the trail and return home to enjoy the day with my partner. Soon enough it will be time to begin again.

Some things are worth the effort to experience them.

(I should just stop there, perhaps; it is 100% of what I am meaning to say this morning…)

I sip my coffee, and contemplate the weekend behind me. It was definitely worth the drive down. I went to a good party. Met some cool people. Reconnected with people I know and cherish. I felt that warm welcome I love so well. It was an intimate connected weekend filled with fun – and strangely enough, also with sleep. Well, sleep did occur, and it was luscious and restful and was, itself, worth the drive down. You see, after basically 36 hours awake (just due to the way timing and my sleep worked out), I crashed out in my Traveling Partner’s bed, and in his arms, and we slept harmoniously together, quite soundly, for something like 12 hours. lol No regrets there; I’m quite delighted to make the drive down to enjoy that experience.

That’s what I’m saying, this morning, some experiences are worth an investment in effort, in intention, in awareness – they linger in memory, holding on to some magical quality about life or love, preserving it and bringing it back to life every time I recall it. I smile again, and sip my coffee.

I think about a cup of coffee my gracious and charming host (of the party I went to Saturday night) made for me in the wee hours on Sunday. I know, I know, small thing, right? Not really… big party, lots going on, and my host is a new friend – I would not have imposed. I was, rather naturally I think, as it was a bit after 5 am, starting to lose enthusiasm for partying (and starting to feel the sensation of “going without coffee” around the edges of my consciousness). In the context of the conversation, I admitted being a junkie for the stuff (coffee, People, coffee), and he very sweetly offered to make me a cup, himself, personally. It was a damned good cup of coffee, too. The sort of strong cup in the morning after partying all night that reaches into my brain from my tummy and sort of just punches me right in the fatigue, refreshing me and restoring my merry wit. πŸ˜€ Fuck – I hope I remembered to say “thank you”! πŸ˜€

It was worth the drive down to meet this new friend, and to enjoy that cup of coffee. πŸ™‚

Now it is Tuesday. A work day. A different set of timing constraints, rules, limits, and obligations are in place for the week ahead. The coffee? Made it myself. The sleep? Solo. The morning? A new beginning.

It’s time to begin again. πŸ™‚

What if you died today and had to give feedback to yourself on your life, or defend, justify, or excuse it, after-the-fact? How would well would you rate yourself?

What if you could try again? Would you make any changes?

It’s an interesting thought exercise… I’m inclined to follow through on this one very soon, perhaps over some solo weekend during the holiday season. I did it once before, purely by chance, years ago. It mattered a great deal and gave me new perspective on my life. It’s a tough one, though, and can really mire one in sadness – it’s not for the timid, the faint of heart (nor the inauthentic). Taking it lightly is neither useful nor helpful. I do hope you find it either useful, or helpful, or at least a thought-provoking read over your coffee, or tea.

Ready? Let’s begin…

Imagine this; you’ve died. It doesn’t matter at all how, you are dead. No opportunity for one more please, thank you, I’m sorry, or I love you. You are done. Game over. Right now. Okay, so now let the death part of the scenario just go; you know nothing of it, and can’t. You’re dead. Nothing new to remember. Let’s look at your life instead – or more to the point, you look at it. That’s right. You had your chance. It’s done. Game over. You are only a collection of memories – your own, and those that others left behind have of you.

Look at your words, and actions, and the outcomes of your choices, andΒ  your baggage, – your free will brought you to these ends. What were your actual, no bullshit, real values – based on your actions, your decisions, what you chased in life, what mattered most to you in fact (what you said you valued has no meaning now, you’re dead and those were just words) – what were your real true actual values? (Don’t rush this, you’ve got plenty of time; you’re dead.)

“Why those?” is maybe not the correct next question, more to the point; is this what you wanted of your life, and your choices? Is this end result “enough”, or “what you wanted”? Are you okay with this being your legacy?

Are the things that were stressing you, truly, now that you’re dead and can look back unafraid and unashamed, were they truly stress-worthy? The times you snapped at loved ones over petty annoyances – worth it? Justifiable? (I mean, you can’t change it now, and all they have to look back on is who you actually were, and how you really treated them.) The stress about work, all that potentially wasted time grinding away on someone else’s agenda – was it worth it in the end? Was there ever “enough” money? Was being “right” worth the agita of forcing someone else to say that you were right – even if they only did so to shut you up? Was it ever finally the “right time” to do something about what you wanted most to do?

Ask the hard questions. Gnothi seauton. No bullshit. Turn and face yourself, naked and revealed. Look into the mirror. Who were you? Is that who you wanted to be? Who you expected to be? Who you thought you were?

Could you have done “better” or “more”? Who defined those qualities for you in life? Why wasn’t it your call, your definitions, your free will reaching out to enact your own choices? Why did you settle? Why were you “chasing” happiness… money… pretty lovers…a better high…a more perfect romance…? Whatever it was… the curtain has fallen. You’re done. Was it worth it? Are you content with the person you were? Will you be remembered? How will you be remembered? What is your legacy?

There may be other questions, too, that matter to you particularly, that hold you back right now, questions I can’t possible know – but you know them. So ask those too. Who were you? Is this truly what you want to leave behind when death overtakes you?

Take your time – I’ve got work to get to, can’t stay with you while you work through the details on this one, and really… It’s all about you. When you are finished with being finished with being you… what then? When you allow yourself to understand and fully accept that a time will come when indeed “you had your chance” and now it has passed you by… will you think you have wasted that precious limited life time? Will you feel a moment of regret for the shitty choices, poor values, lack of ethics, lack of conscience, cruelty, carelessness, regrettable loss of control, the hurt you have done to loved ones, and yes, even strangers? I sort of hope that you do, or that, if nothing else, you feel something that moves you to make some change or other that takes your journey somewhere new – somewhere you really want to go, but hadn’t yet gotten to. Because death doesn’t seem to hold a ton of potential to change who you were, you know?

…Well… At least in this instance… you get a do-over. You get to begin again. Are you ready for your second chance to be the person you most want to be?

Here it is. Right now. It begins right here, right now, and with each choice that follows this moment.

What will you do with it?

The election is coming. Soon we’ll “all” vote. Actually, soon those of us committed to voting will mostly vote, some of us who are less committed will make the time for it, but a sadly large percentage of the eligible population will let the opportunity slip by. Still, Election Day is coming, voting will be done, and a decision will be reached that will affect the course of our lives for many more than four years to come. WhatΒ are your values?

Pen and paper handy? ;-)

Pen and paper handy? πŸ˜‰

I’m sitting here this morning contemplating values, value statements, and how difficult it is for people to answer the question “what are your values?” Β For a long time I struggle with it, myself. Β “What are your values?” isn’t properly answered by a statement of what decisions I would make based on the values I hold. “What are your values?” is also not seeking the same answer as to the question “what do you value?”, which could be seeking a material answer, or a state of being, more than the foundational underpinning of one’s decision-making, or personal… context?

I’m thinking about values this morning because the emotional fuss in my Facebook feed, and in the media generally, regarding the approaching election reveals a lot about people’s underlying values – things they can’t really “un-say” later. I find myself listening, and listening with great care and attentiveness. I’m not listening to which candidate any one person says they favor, it’s not about that; I’m listening to what people are saying their values are – what their deep down didn’t-straight-up-say-it-before-values are. It tells me about who they are, as human beings.

What are your values? Do you value respect? Do you value consideration? What about things like “truthfulness”, “family”, “education”, “power”, “strength”… there are so many things we might hold dear and build upon all our lives without naming quite clearly in our thinking – and without mindfulness awareness of who we have become over time. This morning it hits me differently, and I understand that the question “what are your values?” is another way of asking “who are you?”. The answer is far more telling, because it reveals some of the “why” as well as some of the “who”.

We let conflict creep into our values sometimes, usually a byproduct of bias, or due to having paid lip-service to something we think we should value, even though over time it becomes clear that our actual lived values are something quite different. Sometimes, the things we say we value… aren’t “values”, at all. In my own thinking, a value is sort of a metaphysical molecule in our understanding of the world, on which we build who we are, and guide who we will become. Some of what we value, we learn at home as children, and in school as we grow up. Some of what we learn is explicitly taught. Much of what we learn, for values, we just soak up as we grow, learning from those around us what is acceptable, what is not, and what is comfortable to say aloud socially, and these things become our values, implicitly. Many of us never reach beyond those early implicit values. Some of us must awaken to the bitter-sweet knowledge that our early life implicit value learning is deeply flawed, and we either lose our way in life, or carve our own path, under-taking to demolish old values, and embrace new ones. We’re very fancy primates to be able to reflect, to choose, and to change by the power of our will – and our practices.

We become what we practice. We practice what we value. What are your values? If you must make this journey, and there is no map, and you must rely on your values to guide you down life’s path, wouldn’t it be helpful to know what your values are, in a clear and simple way? (That’s intended as a rhetorical question, because the answer seems an obvious “yes” to me.) So… do you? Do you know what your values actually are, as you sit here reading these words? Can you name them? I found, when I started down this willful, mindful, careful path of practicing practices, taking care of me, and sorting out the chaos and damage, that I could not. I could not easily answer the question “what are your values?”, and honestly I found that fairly frightening. Was I really living my life based on decision-making resulting from potentially unknown values? Were my implicit values overdue to be reconsidered – and how would I do that, if I could not name them? I knew all my personal demons by name… how could I not similarly be intimately familiar with my values? Yikes.

That was some years ago. I sat down with pen and paper (those were things, back in the day πŸ™‚ ) and threeΒ questions.

  1. What are your relationship values?
  2. What three values would you choose to build your life upon, if you were to choose your values based on adult experience and understanding of life right now?
  3. Do these values, taken together, allow you to continue to become the person you most want to be, practiced over time?

Finishing this exercise took several days of careful consideration, and reconsideration. The idea behind these particular three questions is a simple one; I interact with others, I exist as my own person, and I seek to grow over time.Β Answering these three questions provides me insight into doing those things with greater skill, and better outcomes. πŸ™‚

I got tangled up in all the most common ways, considering these questions of values. I wrote paragraphs where a word would do. I lied to myself to align to cultural norms. I wrote answers that didn’t have anything to do with me personally but sounded great on paper. I stretched definitions to cover what I wanted to be real and true, rather than own my shit so I could make other choices. I fumbled in the darkness. I let myself approach these questions with new eyes each morning for days, and again every evening before I fell asleep. I wrestled with childhood baggage, and a lifetime of chaos and damage. I felt wrapped in wreckage, as if emotional concertina wire tightened around me as I struggled. Then I stopped struggling with the questions. I answered them, simply, and honestly, and accepting what matters most to me, personally.

For me, answering these three questions of personal values became my bridge between that woman struggling through so much chaos and damage, and that woman I most wanted to be… out there… that future me… a wiser woman, a kinder woman, a franker, fairer, more compassionate woman. Understanding that knowing my values explicitly would provide me a clearer opportunity to practice them mindfully was a wonderful moment of awakening. I don’t know that it is the sort of thing that is easily shared in words, but it has mattered too much not to try. (Hell, maybe I’m late to the party, and everyone else already got the memo…?)

What are your relationship values? These guide how you treat others, and how you allow others to treat you. They guide which relationships you’ll maintain, and which you’ll choose to walk away from – or whether you are able to choose to walk away, at all. (It turns out they also guide how we treat ourselves.) I talk about my “Big 5”; they are my answer to this question. (Respect, Consideration, Reciprocity, Compassion, and Openness)

What three values would you choose to build your life upon, if you were to choose your values based on adult experience and understanding of life right now? It didn’t have to be three, it could be two, or five, or 17 – although that seems excessive, and possibly difficult to manage. I chose three – because three is what I live, myself, and these are the values that I build my future on, and have chosen with deliberate care. They require practice, and ask much of me. In practicing them, they pull me toward my future. Mindfulness, sufficiency, and perspective are the three values I am choosing to build my life upon. It has made a great deal of difference in how I make decisions, and why I make the choices I do. What will you choose? What will you do about your choice? Having the intention, do you also have the will – and the verbs? There’s a lot of practice involved in this one, particularly if growth is part of the plan. It’s probably emotionally safer… easier, perhaps… to choose to answer this question only in terms of the being you are here, now. Even that is a significant improvement over struggling within the framework of implicit values learned in childhood without ever being considered with care. Make no mistake, this is a challenging question to ask one’s self, and the answer demands a lot of us once we know it. πŸ™‚

Do these values, taken together, allow you to continue to become the person you most want to be, practiced over time? Simply enough, if the answer is clearly “no”… begin again. Ask the questions again. Consider the questions again. Answer the questions again. Consider your answers with great care; is this who you are? Is it who you most want to be? When the final answer is clearly “yes”… then the work begins in earnest, every decision, every choice, each moment, every day. There are verbs involved. Your results may vary. You’ll probably begin again, often. Still… in a life where you are your own cartographer, having your own experience, walking your own path, this seems a very good start to building a useful map. πŸ™‚

So… what are your values? Whether you know the answer to the question or note, they will determine your vote in the next election, and in everything you do, and every relationship you have. Β πŸ˜‰Β Today is a good day to be who you are; every journey starts somewhere.