Archives for posts with tag: what matters most?

I’m working on my second coffee, sipping on it even though it has gone cold. I’ve got a wicked headache today. Worse than usual, and tightly focused in a very specific location. It’s annoying. My Traveling Partner and his son are hanging out, watching videos, talking about life.

At some point, the ambient level of anxiety in the room (and, honestly, I really object to even having that be “a thing” at all) begins to increase. My Traveling Partner’s comments become more stressed moment-by-moment, as though he is on the edge of having an argument with someone, though there is nothing to argue with; he’s making sound and reasonable points relevant to the content we’re watching. His son is quiet… that kind of quiet that suggests a very busy mind held back by firm hands. He seems… “glum” and also… intent, focused on something going on in his inner world, and perhaps only half listening. My partner exclaims something about his anxiety, and the video itself potentially driving that. He turns it off. His son speaks up in the affirmative – him, too. For once, none of this is about me, or my issues, or my anxiety – but I see it, and I “get it”. Realizing the enormous potential for this whole mess to worsen notably if my own anxiety were also to be triggered (which it easily could be by my partner’s expressed stress), I take my coffee into the studio to give room for them to sort shit out, and avoid being triggered myself. Nothing confrontational, just taking care of myself, and doing what I can to support a healthy environment by not adding to the mess.

So here I am. This quiet somewhat chilly room. The tap-a-tap-a-tap of fingers on the keyboard. This cold cup of coffee. This headache.

I have an anxiety disorder. Having a moment, episode, or experience of anxiety doesn’t make someone “disordered” – just human. My own anxiety rises to the level of “disordered” because of the potential for extremes in that emotional experience, the difficulty I have managing or resolving it, and the ridiculous way it can linger unresolved just making shit worse for days or weeks or months, even wrecking relationships, and jobs. It’s pretty serious. I’ve also taken many years of therapy to work on it, and take medication to help manage the worst of it day-to-day.

I’ve learned to accept the physical chemistry of anxiety as a very separate thing from any lived event that may trigger an emotional experience of anxiety; the chemistry and the emotional experience often need to be managed or supported quite differently. It took fucking years to get a grip on how best to handle my own anxiety, and I’ve got some good tools in my toolkit these days…but they aren’t “one size fits all”. (Hell, they don’t even always work for me!) As much as I’d love to say “just do this thing and it’ll all be fine”, I’m very much aware that what works for me (and my results vary) may not work for you at all. I share the journey, and the practices, because something may be helpful, even if only once in a serendipitous moment of inspiration. I hope any of it offers you healthy perspective, or even potentially an observation or practice that you can use to make sense of your own bullshit and baggage in a way that allows you to move forward on your journey to become the person you most want to be.

Why do I even care, at all…?

Honestly? Layers and feedback loops. If I’m anxious around other people who struggle with anxiety, it seems likely that the potential for shared anxiety to creep in and escalate will increase. My anxiety feeding someone else’s anxiety, and increasing anxiety someone else is feeding potentially triggering (or exacerbating) mine sounds like (is) a really terrible experience that can lead to confusing or problematic interactions. Then too, just dealing with my own anxiety while aware of my partner’s, his son’s, the world’s… the layers of anxiety just make for a shitty emotional experience characterized by some very uncomfortable sensations and thought spirals. No thank you. So. I try to be helpful and share what works for me because anxiety is a wholly shitty experience for everyone.

So, I think it over. Talk to my partner. Take a kind and helpful approach as much as possible with everyone here in this moment. Share my thoughts and experiences, make a potentially (I hope) useful suggestion or two, and hope for the best – while also working my ass off to avoid taking any scrap of this “personally”, because it just isn’t. It’s simply very human.

“Anxiety” 10″ x 14″ acrylic on canvas w/ceramic 2011

In life it’s rare for an outcome to deliver “everything” we want or need (or thought we wanted or needed) in a single tidy package of delight. Very uncommon. Far more typical of outcomes, generally, however hard we work towards a goal, is to achieve… something. A partial victory. A fraction of a total. A “participation trophy” instead of first place. A thousand dollar win on a million (or billion) dollar chance. A job that pays the bills (but won’t necessarily let someone “get ahead”). Something.

…”Something” is not “everything”…

Knowing that life is made up of somethings, and rarely features even a single “everything” moment, ever, one might be forgiven for extrapolating that human beings are therefore deeply invested in contentment, appreciation, and a deep understanding of sufficiency – having “enough” being within easy reach, versus that elusive “having it all” that so many dream of. Ah, but that’s not how human primates work, and so often a pursuit of “everything”, and the “having it all” day dreams (that often undermine more realistic goals), seem to be more likely to be expressed in day-to-day bitching about what isn’t, and what hasn’t, and what won’t, and all manner of forms of complaining and dissatisfaction in life. Peculiar.

We become what we practice.

…When we practice feeling discontented, dissatisfied, and held back by circumstances or individuals, we become very skilled at being discontented, dissatisfied, (even to the point of holding ourselves back so we can also bitch about the circumstances) and adopting an air of being downtrodden and “let down by life”. Conversely, I’ve noticed first hand, when I practice contentment, feeling satisfied, and exploring alternative choices that could allow me to capitalize on unexpected circumstances (instead of feeling held back by them), I become contented, satisfied in life, and more skilled at managing (and even embracing) change. I bounce back more easily, because my life is characterized by contentment, generally. This is a big deal. Bigger than it may appear at first glance, which is why I’m going on about it a bit.

…Maybe stop bitching so much about every fucking thing, hmm?…

It’s easy to bitch about how bad things are. (Maybe things really are bad? That’s real. I get it.) Okay, so… is it actually helpful, or useful, or likely to make things better, if I were to wallow in misery and invest time and emotional energy in feelings of discontent, and expressions of dissatisfaction to the point of crowding out time and energy for action? I haven’t seen that investing time and energy and words in discontent or misery does anything at all to ease either. I don’t become less discontented by being discontented with my “lot in life” or my decision-making, or circumstances. Not even a little bit. I don’t find myself feeling propelled forward into an exciting future by standing around bitching about how circumstances are holding me back, or the deck is stacked against me – even when it really may seem that’s the case. It’s just not helpful in any practical way, and it very much tends to alienate people who could be supportive allies, because over time it’s likely to become an annoying buzzkill for anyone who might want to stick around to help out.

I’m not saying “pretend life is rosy”. That also isn’t very useful or effective. We only need to look to social media to know that doesn’t work at all. “Fake it till you make it” has a toxic subtext, and I’m not really a fan of that approach. I value authenticity – and positive progress, forward momentum, frankness, and a willingness to embrace change. Start your journey where you are, and move forward from there. Fakery is fakery, and that often fails because it’s fake – even where intentions are good.

Nothing I’m saying amounts to “easy”. It’s hard to have a shitty moment and to resist the tendency to allow it to become a shitty experience that develops into a shitty day that slowly becomes a shitty life, over time, as shitty experiences accumulate. We pick at our wounds and prevent them from healing. It’s very human.

So many of my everyday practices are about finding a comfortable, useful, real perspective on “now” that also gives me a firm foundation to move forward from, in an emotionally healthy positive way, without bullshitting myself (or anyone else). Still not easy. There are verbs involved. My results vary. I keep practicing. 😀 Worth it. I’ve come soooo far.

This morning is a lovely morning. For real. Yes, I’m between jobs… and I’m also enjoying the lovely summer days, and time in the garden, and time spent with my Traveling Partner and his visiting son. It’s a pleasant time to reconsider what I want to be doing with my time that suits my skills, brings in a paycheck, and is also satisfying and worthwhile work. This is a great time to consider all of that. I sip a glass of water (I’ve long since had my coffee, and it’s going to be quite a hot day), and reflect on all the things that are working out well, and I take a moment to consider the things that matter, the things that fill a good life, and what it takes to be the woman I most want to be. I pause to reflect, to write, and to practice.

…Then I begin again…

So much goes into this journey…

I am sipping coffee and thinking over metaphors drawn from travels of various sorts. My Traveling Partner is preparing to embark on adventure with his son; a camping road trip. I’m eagerly staying behind on this one and enjoying some solo time at home – a first since before we bought the house we now live in. I’m quietly excited about it, although life is life, adulthood has requirements, and there’s shit to get done basically every day, all the time. Dishes. Laundry. Watering the lawn. Picking up the mail. All the routine details of an ordinary life simply are what they are. I’m even okay with that.

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That was around 07:00 this morning. It’s now almost 15:00. …3:00pm. Later. Hours later. The house is quiet. The morning passed quickly as my Traveling Partner and his son finished with last minute preparations and decision-making. Eventually, the time came and they hit the road, seeming quite eager to be on their way. I was eager, too. Eager for the quiet and solitude, even for a few hours.

…Funny thing… As soon as my partner was gone, I was missing him (at least a little bit), and checking the map for his location almost hourly. In between? I was mostly doing housekeeping. Tidying up here and there. Listening to my thoughts. Feeling the heat of the day develop outside through the sound of the air conditioning occasionally coming on, and that happening more frequently as the day progressed. I made a quick trip to the store, and wasn’t surprised to find myself reluctant to leave the peace and quiet of my home. It’s a pleasant environment that suits me well. I smile again each time I walk down the hallway, recently hung with paintings that had been selected for the purpose some time ago. My partner made a point of hanging them up quite recently. Days ago, now, and yet I’m still smiling every time I walk down the hallway. Seeing the paintings hung with such care and my partner’s studious eye for detail, I feel so loved. These paintings tell the story of my life [as an artist] and each one reminds me of something I thought I had forgotten, and does so with such regularity that I’m fairly certain I don’t at all forget these things. Weird, eh? It’s the sort of detail a human primate can really get hung up on, but which has very little importance, relevance, or substance. It’s just a detail. There are so many. 🙂

I breathe, exhale, and relax. I think about my Traveling Partner and pull up his most recent reported location on the map. It’s a cool spot to camp; we had scouted it last time we were camping up that way, and hoping to find a site just maybe a bit better than the one we had settled on for that trip (which was a bit too close to a cluster of managed sites, and thus rather… people-y). We spotted this other site a short drive down the forest road and down a very rough narrow “road” (more a jeep trail, really), a bit further on, and agreed it looked like a great one for the next time we were up that way. Tucked away from the road, distant from other sites, and spacious, with a nicely done fire ring out in a small clearing. I’m delighted to see his location right there. 😀

The quiet feels good, like soaking in a hot tub, or getting a massage, or going back to sleep on a lazy weekend morning. Luxurious and nurturing. I had music on for a little while. While I was tidying up. I’ve since turned it off. It’s a quiet I enjoy – the sound of feeling safe at home. I savor it. All the minutes, and these quiet hours. Life and love are busy with interactions and communication; stillness is luxury. I’m not even complaining, I’m just saying I enjoy this, and I’m shamelessly immersed in the cognitive and neurological feelings of it. Hell, I don’t even have words for how good this is for me, or fully understand why. I think those details matter less than the experience itself.

…That’s the thing I was thinking about this morning… on this journey, whether an experience is “a fence” limiting us or holding us back, or a crossroad at which we must choose, or a ledge we teeter on the edge of, with some urgent question in mind is mostly a matter of perspective. Individual definitions, filters, lenses through which we consider our experience are every bit as “important” as any detail grounded in “the facts of the matter”. I think about this a lot. It seems worth understanding. I sit with that awhile…

I catch myself sitting quietly here at my keyboard, not typing, not even “thinking” really, just being. It’s not a very productive sort of endeavor, though, and I remind myself of things I’d like to do and enjoy while I have this time. …Where’s that book I’m reading…? I look at the time, without really caring to much what time it may actually be right now. I know it’s time to begin again. 😀

Still and always practicing. Sometimes I get it “right”. Sometimes I fail myself (or someone else). Sometimes I am proud of the woman I am right now. Sometimes I fall short of being the woman I most want to be. I need more practice. 🙂

I’m sipping a delicious hot coffee, a freebie from the local chain vendor of caffeinated beverages (one of many that accumulated over the past not-quite-a-year of weekly commutes to the city). Handy. Yes, I saved them up over time without using them, figuring there might be some time when it would be nice to enjoy one, but perhaps excessively costly, for… reasons. Here I am, with reasons. LOL It’s a pleasant quiet morning. The slow dawn revealed a cloudy start to the day. The day started easily, and I had slept well through the night, waking feeling quite rested. My Traveling Partner pinged me a kiss emoji over SMS on my way to the solitude of a morning walk, and some time in the co-work space handling job search tasks. A good beginning to a new day, indeed. 😀

A different day, a different beginning; it’s not really about the cup of coffee, how it’s made, or where it came from – it’s about the moment.

My Traveling Partner and I had a moment of conflict “recently” (I have the sense that it was this week, but… I honestly don’t recall when, at this point, and it entirely blew over, and was, it seemed, more a byproduct of stress over lingering sleep challenges than anything else), and in the midst of taking turns saying things to each other that were needlessly unkind, he mocked the very thing(s) that I rely on to persist in putting one foot in front of the other day-after-day and which I use to heal ancient pain, and grow as a person, and yeah, also even use to treat him well, and with kindness and compassion. Ouch. My feelings were incredibly hurt. I was astonished and appalled. I was… enraged. I was saddened. (I mean, for real though? Damn, dude. Way to be hurtful.)

Here’s the thing, though… On reflection, I am sensitive to the idea – the very true truth – that “hurt people hurt people”. I know this first hand, from within the context of my own experience. Meaning to say that people who have been emotionally wounded over time do lash out, and they do inflict new/further damage on people around them, often those they love, and that damage is often targeted, using uniquely personal information that has the greatest potential to inflict pain, taken from the most intimate shared moments. Messy and unpleasant. Also… not actually “personal”. It just feels that way. It is an expression of the pain of the person delivering the injury, more than anything explicitly to do with the person they are lashing out at in that moment. Hurt and anger are strange like that. It feels personal to the recipient, mostly because as creatures we’re prone to taking shit personally, not so much because it really is.

…I get it, though… I work through a lot of my personal bullshit and baggage right here. Out in the open. Honest and real and raw and… also aspirational. I seek to do better. I don’t always hit the mark. I set goals for myself. I don’t always achieve them. I acknowledge where I’ve failed or fallen short. I pick myself up and walk on. I am practicing. Day after day, I show up, and I practice the practices that I hope will, over time, result in my becoming the woman (the person) I most want to be. I’m not there yet. I’ll point out two things that seem obvious to me, but maybe aren’t so obvious… 1. I practice because I’m human, and I’m “not there yet”; I need the practice! 2. “The woman I most want to be”… may not be the woman anyone else wants to see me become. With just those two things in mind, there’s more than enough within these blog posts to fill any argument with insults and barbed remarks to fuel any heated moment. Taking them personally would only set me up for disappointment, a feeling of chronic inadequacy, a sense of utter failure, and a quick slide into despair… defeating the point of being here, now, in the first place. “Don’t drink the poison.

Instead of attacking him for attacking me over such personal things, or for seeking to undermine my progress (it’s highly unlikely he was looking at his words through that lens at all), I let those words simply land in the space between us unaddressed beyond the basic point that he was feeling hurt, mistreated, and provoked, and was frustrated by his lack of sleep. I did my best to focus on the need actually being expressed, and not so much on the shitty way he was expressing it in the moment. He’s very human. I “filed it away” for later reflection, and here I find myself, reflecting. It’s a nice morning for it. I’m in a good place. We’re in a good place with each other. I know I need more practice. That’s not new information. What’s useful to reflect on is where we are with each other, and how I can make use of what I’ve heard my partner say to me to become a better partner, and friend, myself.

Any misstep can become a beautiful gesture of love, if we’re willing to be vulnerable about our failures.

I think about the lawn my Traveling Partner recently put in. It’s gorgeous. In the process of preparing the ground for the new sod, my partner inadvertently damaged one of the roses. He didn’t hide that, or ignore it, or try to excuse the error, or blame someone/something else; he simply pointed it out, with some regret. He also took that moment to transform the mistake into something beautiful; he carefully cut the roses and put the blossoms in a wee vase on the table where I would see them. So cute. The little vase of flowers meant so much more to me than the unplanned cutting of a stray cane or two on a rose that is already pretty well-established. Just saying; we’re human. We make mistakes. We fuck shit up. It’s how we handle that and the outcome, and how we support and seek to heal each other as human beings that matters most. 🙂

I sip my coffee. It’s a good morning.

So… yeah. I’m a work in progress for sure. lol The journey is the destination. I am my own cartographer, and this trip has no map. I do my best, and I can fearlessly state that my results vary, and sometimes my best definitely does not feel “good enough”. It’s necessary to begin again. Often. All of that is more than “okay” – it’s the nature of the experience. Growth and incremental change over time are not instant. There are verbs involved.

I breathe. Exhale. Relax. It’s a beautiful morning to practice practices, and to put in the effort to become the woman I most want to be. With that in mind, it’s time to begin again. 😀

When it feels like it’s all stairs, it’s nice to have someone sharing the journey.

Wow. Real progress with the sleep machine, after a week using it. I mean… I still wake up a couple times a night for no obvious reason (this is not new for me), find myself feeling… something… and I sit up for a moment, take the mask off, breathe freely (awake), readjust the mask and return to a comfortable sleeping position. The first couple of nights, that didn’t necessarily mean going back to actual sleep, and my sleep was pretty light. Last night, though, I actually got a couple hours of legit deep sleep. I woke feeling really rested. It’s nice.

Honestly, it’s not like I woke up more often or for any longer period of time than I ever do, it’s just that it’s a bit of a production to remember the mask, sit up, untangle the air hose, reach the machine, find the button, turn it off, release the mask straps, pull the mask off and set it carefully aside such that I can easily put it back on in the dark. LOL So much more involved than “wake up, sit up for a minute, go back to sleep”. It’s just taking some practice to get it down to basics I can comfortable manage without really waking all the way up.

…Difficult tasks get easier the more I repeat them. Complex tasks feel simpler with more practice. Discomfort eases with exposure over time. Incremental change is a real thing, and when I successfully balance these observations with practicing non-attachment (to an outcome)(when I can), the result is… a different experience. 😀 It’s not quite a rule book, or a how-to guide, just saying; if we keep doing something, it gets easier to do it at all. (Which does also suggest we should maybe choose with some care what sorts of things we commonly do…) We become what we practice.

…What are you practicing?..

It’s a quiet Sunday morning. I’m sipping this first, quite excellent, cup of coffee and thinking about the work week ahead. Oh, sure, I’m not presently “gainfully employed” by some entity sending me a regular paycheck, but there are steps to take to return to that state of being, and putting structure and focus on that is usually (I find) quite helpful (for me). So, in a sense, the tasks associated with looking for work become the job. It’s also a good time to give my Traveling Partner a hand with his business for a time. I’m handy and available, at least for awhile. Conveniently enough, it’s also (coincidentally) timed such that my step-son is visiting, and I won’t be taken down by fatigue day-to-day, just working – which means I’ll reliably have the energy to cook healthy meals and enjoy activities. 😀 I’m pretty excited about that. Stir fries, pasta dinners, maybe even – heat permitting – some baking – it sounds like fun, because I won’t be exhausted all the time.

I’ve always loved libraries.

Yesterday, on a whim, I went to the library. Yep. The actual municipal public library in my town. It’s quite a nice one. I went because I have it in mind that I’ll need an occasional “work from…” location that isn’t home. The local co-work space is closing. It’s been an excellent (and very handy) convenience, but as is often the case with small businesses in small towns, the demand apparently wasn’t high enough to keep it going. I checked out the library with that in mind. Wi-Fi? Yep. (Even encouragement to use it in the form of a notice that it is available 24/7 and “park in our parking lot and use our Wi-Fi any time!”) The operating hours of our library are limited; 10:00am to 7:00pm most days, and libraries are notoriously “quiet spaces” as well…so… not ideal for busy work days crammed with meetings, but absolutely fantastic for any days when job search activities need quiet, focus, and few distractions. There’s even a wee closet of a closed space for precisely that sort of thing (to include, in the case of this wee space, interview calls and meetings). Nice.

I sat quietly in several locations of the library getting the feel of it… would I enjoy working in this space? Sure. Suits me. The only serious limitations are the lack of morning hours (I can adjust to that) and… no coffee. I mean 100% “no coffee”. No food or drink in the the library. Period. So… yeah, I’ll certainly have to plan around that. LOL What a great spot for doing training and such, though! I’ve got a couple certifications to finish up, and that kind of thing is much easier for me to do in a quiet place without distractions. 😀 I know my Traveling Partner enjoys having some space to focus and think without me taking up space, sometimes, too.

I sip my coffee smiling. My Traveling Partner comes in and massages my neck a bit. I feel loved. We exchange pleasantries and smiles and he leaves me to my writing. It’s a lovely morning. A relaxed Sunday.

The lack of panic and stress over being out of work is helpful. It’s harder to do the job search stuff really skillfully while also juggling panic, desperation, worry, sadness, or becoming consumed by terrifying what-if scenarios of consequences that have not yet come to pass (and probably won’t). All of that is wasted emotional energy. I’m fortunate to have a partnership that supports me emotionally, and a partner who does not himself panic when I am between jobs. We shift gears a bit, take a careful approach to the change in resources, and continue to enjoy life. There’s work to be done, and it gets done without giving up weekends, pleasure, or good vibes. The good vibes matter. Enjoying life matters. 🙂

In the garden it’s time to harvest seeds and herbs to dry for winter months. I have time for it.

I think about dinner for later… pasta with some kind of luscious sauce of ripe summer tomatoes? Maybe some sausage in that sauce? Sounds pretty yummy. I double-check my grocery list; I’ll need to pick up a couple things. (I smile, reminded that whole fresh produce is fairly inexpensive, compared to packaged prepared convenience items, and the same circumstances that make me so careful about spending money on groceries also somehow tend to improve our quality of life, by “limiting” us to whole foods prepared at home.)

It’s a pleasant summer morning. There’s plenty to do and to enjoy – and it’s already time to begin again. 😀