Archives for posts with tag: what matters most?

It could be a metaphor, although I did actually walk rather a lot this weekend, and had an eye-opening moment of perspective while walking from one point on a map to another.

Beauty is in the details, so are awareness, understanding, and love. So is growth.

Beauty is in the details, so are awareness, understanding, and love. So is growth.

It’s a quiet Monday morning, and I didn’t notice that I hadn’t been writing until the weekend was already over. I was kept busy by life and love and the doing of actual things. I was in a lot of pain, and also living well, and generally in a good state of awareness and with a pleasant demeanor. It was a pleasant weekend, generally. Life’s lessons this weekend tended to be more of the ‘slog through the exercises carefully and check your work’ variety than the sometime intensity of grand eye-opening moments or epiphanies of some more exotic sort.

Another side of beauty.

Another side of beauty.

While I was out on Saturday, I saw some younger girls tensely discussing their appearance and how to lose ‘enough’ weight; they were all very lean, wearing very fashionable clothes, and a lot of make up for such young girls. My initial reaction started out as one of active resentment and irritation. I struggle with my weight, too. As I passed one of them made an unkind comment; I’m not ‘thin enough’  – or ‘young enough’, whatever that means to them.  I contemplated the destructive power of the standard of beauty that is culturally enforced in the media, and wondered if these girls have any idea how ugly mean is, or how little someone else’s idea of beauty matters to ones own contentment?

I made a long trip Saturday to a store on the other side of town that I favor, and being willing to travel for what matters to me the journey was pleasant and necessary. I stopped for lunch on my way back and spotted a sign at the counter that got me thinking…

It's a sign...

It’s a sign…

I contemplated ‘food insecurity’ (my Granny would have called it ‘going without’ or ‘privation’) and leaner times in my own life, and later struggles with my weight. I let my mind roam, and considered other times and sorts of deprivation, shortages, and hard times, and later challenges with ‘greed’ in those specific areas. I was still standing at the counter, trying to order lunch. I made a connection in the moment between my recent success in managing my weight, and the ease lately in making decisions that are moderate, and appropriate to my resources. “Greed” is something I find I have difficulty feeling any compassion for… in myself or others, and I realized I still held on to some repugnant (to me) binge/purge programming deep in my operating system. I let my shoulders relax and smiled at the girl at the counter as I stepped up to order… a half portion of a healthy sandwich, and a bottle of water. I felt satisfied to be able to take care of my needs, and content not to go further. That’s been a big deal lately: sufficiency. When I stopped – really stopped – trying to fill some desperate feeling hole in my experience labeled ‘I don’t have enough to feel like I have everything’, I found myself utterly content and satisfied so much more often. What matters most, truly? If you live alone, is 4000 sq ft of penthouse with a view of the world necessary? Whether it is affordable is a different question. How many of us experiencing ‘food insecurity’ or some other form of privation put ourselves there by choosing excess in some other area of life? Too much house? Too much car? Too much credit? Too many pets? Too many dinners out? For most of us our individual resources, however plentiful, are finite. I am learning to make wiser choices with my resources, and my needs. Sufficiency, I am finding, often feels lavish, when I simply enjoy what is enough. Excess, as with a Thanksgiving meal, overshoots that mark so far that sometimes it neither satisfies nor sustains me…and is, itself, unsustainable.

A foggy morning heading somewhere...

A foggy morning heading somewhere…

Every journey begins. I don’t always have a clear view of where it will take me. It was that kind of weekend. One choice at a time, one step at a time, one opportunity to connect at a time… I’m building who I am tomorrow with each choice today. Today is a good day for choices, and a good day for consideration. I may be having my own experience… but life, love, and the world are not all about me, ever. We’re all in this together.

Perspective matters, too.

Perspective matters, too.

Sometime in the past, men did work. It was valued, and lauded, and a monument built to the work and to the men. Interesting details are celebrated and noted in life, and in this case one detail stood out for me, a connection across time…

Yep. They drank a lot of coffee.

Yep. They drank a lot of coffee.

So here’s to you, working people, on a Monday morning…

Coffee. Any form, every morning. Here's to  you, Monday!

Coffee. Any form, every morning. Here’s to you, Monday!

Today is a good day to be a better human being than I was yesterday. Today is a good day to consider what I have done, and what I want my legacy to look like when I’m gone. Today is a good day to be the woman I most want to be. Today is a good day to love well, and to love honestly. Today is a good day to change the world.

 

Or…let go. Either way, your call. We’re each having our own experience. (I say that a lot.) This morning is one such customized, personalized, choice-defined, observation-limited, individual experience. I’m having it now. So are you.

A picture of a moment; evening at the train station.

A picture of a moment; evening at the train station.

It’s a lovely quiet morning after a very pleasant evening. My traveling partner cooked dinner last night; his cooking is very good, and I was fortunate to arrive home in time to share the evening meal with both my partners. My work hours often get in the way of that simple joy, and that is a recognized trade-off so many of us make in adulthood; we give up some small pleasure in order to convert more of our limited precious mortal time into… cash. That’s really all a job is for many of us – it’s a way to convert time into cash money using effort and skill to make the exchange ‘fair’ (in theory). Looked at that way, it’s so important that we not be wasting our most precious, most finite personal resource on something that doesn’t support our basic needs, or something that is a bad (or hurtful) experience, or even simply one we don’t enjoy. When the pay off is good, it’s sometimes hard to remember to choose to treat myself well, and make choices that truly meet my needs over time. That surprises me a little, thinking about that challenge in light of the observation that employment is basically a conversion process of turning my time into money…because that would mean that every cent in value I am paid was already mine – in time, and the potential to make use of it – and the exchange rate may  not be that fair, considering how precious time actually is, for each of us.

Something to think about; I matter to me. The time I ‘spend’ on someone else’s needs (particularly for their profit) needs to be truly worth it to me; I can’t get the time back. Every minute ‘spent’ is simply gone…and I’m not exactly keeping a budget. Have I balanced my ‘checkbook’ and made sure I know where my time is going?

Metaphors – just one more way I entertain myself while I learn. 😉

I read a friend’s manuscript last weekend. I’m fortunate to be asked to do such a favor – not only because it was an exciting read, and I enjoyed it, but also because it inspired me on another level.  As I was walking to work yesterday, a character developed in my thoughts, her experience began to draft itself, her history and family began to become ‘real’, and a plot started to gel in my imagination. Manuscripts, though, are a bit like unfinished sentences; most of them stay that way. Unfinished. (I have a decent beginning of a novel somewhere in my files… never finished. lol) This, though, feels different… So, I made some notes yesterday, and this weekend I’ll do some research to flesh out the bits that need that attention. I may even write. Sometime down the road I may even finish it. 🙂

My coffee is slowly growing cold. I don’t have more to say this morning, really. I’m in a lot of pain this week and it sends my thoughts skittering away from deeper subjects, as often as it pulls me into sorrows. Meditation is both helpful and difficult. Yoga, the same; nearly necessary for freedom of movement, slow going, and although worth it, quite difficult. Words are easy, but I don’t seem to have so many this morning…

Today is a good day to take care of me, and a good day to consider the discomfort of others, too. Today is a good day to enjoy small pleasures and a to take a moment to really value them. Today is a good day to hear compliments, and enjoy them with humility and gratitude.  Today is a good day to cherish my skills, my experience, and my decision-making, most of which serve me well, much of the time. Today is a good day for enough, and a good day for contentment. Today is a good day to change the world.

It’s an expression that’s come up a couple of times in a variety of conversations – one of them was even about flight safety on an air craft, but that’s by far the exception. Generally I hear something about ‘putting your own oxygen mask on first’ as a metaphor, delivered in the context of a conversation relevant to taking care of one’s self, and whether doing so is ‘selfish’ or necessary. Logically, of course, it isn’t ever ‘necessary’ to take care of myself, not even at all; the necessity of it is related to the desired outcome.

Large numbers of human beings manage to get through what amounts to a lifetime without ever really taking care of themselves, their own needs, the needs of their heart, mind, body, or soul.  Some number of those people are in exploitative relationships that may have some symbiotic qualities; they get some return on investment in met needs, that sustains them over time and makes life endurable, or profitable. Others are simply used up, eventually, and cast aside. Some invest heavily of themselves without regret, in the lives and needs of others, and find their sustenance therein; lives of service, contemplation, or consecration to a cause are not without value. Aside from the logic, and obviousness, that taking care of me isn’t an absolute necessity… I’ve got to admit that the quality of my everyday experience of life, of love, of me, myself, is much improved by taking care of me. Learning to be emotionally self-sufficient seems a valuable next step.

The puzzles get more complicated as life’s lessons become more advanced. When faced with complicated moments, challenging decisions, and uncertainty – what’s the key point? What can I balance all the rest on and be assured that my choices and decision-making have a firm foundation in both reality and my values? That’s generally when it comes up…’put your own oxygen mask on first’. In a crisis on an aircraft, they always say it specifically regarding taking care of young, ill, or injured passengers; the most vulnerable among us. “Put your own oxygen mask on first.” Well sure – because if I fail to do so ‘in time’, I could lose consciousness and be unable to help others. That matters. Among those others I would then be unable to help? Yep. Me.

Knowing that I need to ‘put my own oxygen mask on first’ doesn’t always make putting verbs in action a whole lot easier…but it gives me something to count on, a starting point that is a reliable best practice. It complicates matters that this particular aircraft (to continue the metaphor) is just packed to the rooftop with people and things I love. Some choices can wait, and forcing decision-making isn’t necessary; events unfold whether I make choices or not, and that is also something I can rely on. Taking care of me is still my highest priority, generally; my unique issues and challenges require I not lose focus on it, no one else has the same understanding of my needs. Today life’s curriculum seems to be about learning to balance taking care of me, and holding the needs of dear ones close to me, preserving good intentions, acting on the best of my will, following practices of non-harm – of myself as well as others – and being mindful that although we are all connected and interdependent, all ‘in this together’, we are also very much having our own experience.

Honest is never enough, there’s also Kind to consider.  Love so often feels like it ‘gives me everything’; Love is the most demanding of emotions, and requires the best of me to thrive. Life sometimes feels like an endurance race – when I feel as if there is a ‘finish line’, a time commitment, or urgency, I’ve generally been blown off course, somewhere; mindfulness practices are still the most powerful Rx I’ve had, and practiced from a place of compassion and love, easily ‘bring me home’ to the only moment in which change is possible. Some days doing my best, directed outwardly toward the world, just isn’t going to meet the needs I have myself.

Each time for the first time, each moment, the only moment...

Each time for the first time, each moment, the only moment…

Today is a good day to put my own oxygen mask on first. Today is a good day to change the world.

This week has been peculiarly difficult in spots, amazing in others; the challenges seem to outweigh the benefits just at the moment, but that may be a byproduct of whatever new Hormone Hell I am enduring, or simple lack of sleep. My sleep has been disturbed for a couple of days now, and last night I was wakeful until after 3:00 am, the last time I checked the clock, and I needed every moment; the alarm at 5:00 am sounded actually annoyed with me for not being able to wake to shut it off sooner than a dozen or so beeps into the morning. I’m tired. I’m emotional. I’m saying good-bye to my traveling partner, and feeling my own feelings, having my own experience, facing my own challenges; this time around it’s too much, I guess. I am alone, for the moment, weeping quietly as I write.

What’s with the emotional intensity? Why is my emotional experience so uncomfortable for others? Why is theirs so uncomfortable for me? My brain and my heart and the things that I feel don’t ‘feel age’…but my body is sure taking a beating with the whole ‘aging process’ and I find myself resenting the hell out of it, wondering where it leads, struggling to find balance and meet needs. Struggling to feel valued, desirable, meaningful. This morning is an emotionally difficult one. I’m fucking exhausted, and the last shreds of functional intelligence know it, but I’m so tired I also have obviously impaired executive function, and my emotional volatility is through the roof. Hell, I don’t want to be around me right now, why would my good-hearted loves want to endure it if they can walk on?

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Looking up as a positive metaphor, although beauty needs no justification.

I’m doing my best. Pausing for cleansing breaths, meditating, doing my best to be compassionate with myself…but fuck, all this hurts so much right at the moment.  This week has been too much for me…and not the too much of terrible experiences or trauma, most of the week has been filled with amazing highs, achievements, connected conversation, delightful moments… The number of minutes in any given day is the same. This week has been crammed with experiences and emotions, from my amazing solo weekend – that I’ve yet to have a few minutes to really process – to the joy of the travelers coming home, changed by their own experiences. There has barely been time to share any of that, because it is also one of the busiest professional weeks I’ve ever had, filled with long hours, new software, and new knowledge.  I’d be in better shape this morning if I’d been able to sleep last night, I’m sure.

IMAG2482

Practices require practicing

So now what? My coffee has gone cold. My heart feels heavy. Tears just keep streaming down my cheeks… I have to go to work soon. I am alone when I want so much to be in the arms of my traveling partner. My feeling of connection and intimacy and warmth feels sheared off, as if too much happiness just won’t do, and must be cut away before I get too comfortable with it. My experience of self, itself, feels painful. I just don’t know why.  I have trouble accepting that ‘too tired’ could be reason enough, and that ‘too tired’ plus ‘hormones’ is more than reason enough, and that ‘enough’ is a good place to find balance, and stillness, and accept that this what it is, and just be. I want to feel loved, but even in my own heart I feel myself recoil from me, even as I see that desire to recoil from me reflected in my partner’s eyes. This shit sucks.

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There are choices, changing those changes everything…how to choose the better choice is a question.

Our mortal lives are so finite, so brief…it is pure raw unfairness that even one moment would ever feel like this; love exists, I still know that. I wish I didn’t feel so completely cut off from feeling that experience. Like it or not, eventually we all face the evening light.

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Feeling very mortal indeed, this morning.

Today is just one day. Today will teach me something about being the woman I most want to be. Today will be one of many in the rear view mirror all too soon, and it’s part of a bigger picture of precious minutes that cannot be repeated. Today is most especially a good day to change the world.

I remember a younger me, angry beyond the point of explaining it, beyond any reason (although, I felt at the time with very good cause). I remember the ferocity, the righteous rage, the convenient slogans, the certainty of Aristotelian logic, the convenient disregard for any experience but my own ever-so-limited experiences. I remember the sting of frustration, the mockery of cultural enemies, the chronic anger of not ‘being heard’ – my lack of awareness that I, myself, was also not listening. At that point in my life, I was unaware of my TBI, and already struggling with PTSD from living a life of emotional and physical violence, deeply aware of a sense of being broken, damaged, different…struggling to communicate, to be  heard, to be understood. I was easily led, but had no sense of it; I considered myself a ‘free thinker’ and ‘my own woman’. Sometimes, perhaps, I even was.

Most of the time, someone was ‘managing’ me. I didn’t understand things that way at the time. When I finally ‘got it’, it was both incredibly freeing, and incredibly heart-breaking.  My parents, grandparents, the Army, a spouse, a lover, a partner, an organization with an agenda, an employer… Everyone who had their shot invested time and effort in convincing me theirs was the right and true truth, the way, the only obvious conclusion, the needful thing, the most righteous of right, the most just of the just. Generally all lies, or as nearly all lies as matters; people with an agenda, in my experience, are rarely about truth.

A difficult night; conversations with my self.

A difficult night; conversations with my self.

I slept badly last night, and my dreams were populated with different iterations of a woman I once was, angrily trying to ‘talk sense’ to the woman I am now, the woman I am becoming – a woman who finds that people matter most, and that relationships of all sorts are the thing most worth investing in. A woman who understands there is no ‘justification’ for warfare – these days all that violence and destruction seems a childish tantrum on a very grand scale, and clearly ineffective, unless the purpose is simply the destruction, itself. I don’t understand how any one of us can take the view that our hurts justify killing someone else. There’s a lot of it in the news. I try not to read it, but it isn’t possible to reflect on the world and not see it going on.

I don’t think I’m exaggerating. I read a story in which a man who was upset over getting divorced killed the woman who had been his wife. Killed her. For not wanting to spend more of her life with him. Her life. I seriously doubt anyone can offer a rational justification for that act.  It’s actually so commonplace I didn’t link it; a Google search will turn up hundreds of such articles. Of course, there’s more, and some of it is on a grand scale indeed. I mean… Gaza? Seriously? Why is an imaginary line on the planet an acceptable justification for killing? For genocide? How is it ever acceptable to deploy troops from one country to another to use violence to enforce an ideology not freely chosen by the people being attacked? It’s all very odd that we allow it to go on, that we do it, ourselves. We regularly attempt to force others to our point of view, and regularly fight for our own – or succumb to another.

I don’t usually write in a particularly political way, and if this is sounding political to you, you may be missing my point.  My point is, why not just stop killing people? What right does any one human being have to transgress on the life force of another human being, to rob or rape or kill them, or blow up their home, or do them an injury, or take their life or their possessions? What right at all? If no one human being can rationally justify those behaviors, how do we permit it of our governments? It’s bullshit, and honestly – we just need to stop. It’s been said. I’m not first here. (I doubt anyone is really listening – or this nastiness would have already ended.) But…I woke angry with the woman I once was, and found that simply to satisfy myself that the conversation had been concluded, and I have been heard – by myself – it feels necessary to say a few a things with as much clarity as I can to that damaged enraged delusional young woman still storming and screaming that she wants to ‘burn it all down’, who lingers in my past, still hurting, still raging. She had her chance to be heard in my restless dreams…so…for her. For me…

Have any religion you like; don’t force it on me. Live where you like, enjoy the customs of your people; but don’t force them on others, or steal to gain land or territory. Don’t rape, kill, or mutilate other people; do what you will with your own body, call it art, call it tradition – but do not visit it on others, most particularly not in violation of their reasoning consent. Don’t violate the consent of others. At all. Ever. Don’t assume your values and opinions are the one true truth; everyone I’ve ever met has their own thoughts on that subject. Govern yourself.  Help more than you injure. Build more than you destroy. Share when you have more, and be gracious when those who have more share what they’ve got with you. Listen with your whole attention. Recognize the fundamental humanity of every human you interact with – and all the ones far away that you only hear about. Understand that you are but one, and that you are who you choose to be, and you can choose differently if you are unhappy – and I encourage it. Happy is wonderful; you won’t get there at the expense of others. People matter. Their pain matters. Their hearts matter. When you lash out at others and do them damage, injure them, violate their consent, you are not one of ‘the good guys’ regardless what you use to justify your bad acts. Collateral damage is still damage. You can’t heal yourself through harming others, however satisfying vengeance may sound in the abstract. Make your own choices, understand they are yours, and don’t rob others of their opportunities to make choices for themselves. You are not wiser, smarter, stronger, better, or more reliably right than any other one human being – you are human. Only that. Be who you are – no one else can do that as well as you can – but don’t attempt to force others to your way, they are not you. And… one last thing? Don’t be a dick. All those other people in the world? Yeah – they’re people, too, like you.

Today is as good a day for humanity as you choose to make it. Choose wisely.

Today is as good a day for humanity as you choose to make it. Choose wisely.