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Hold On Just One Minute There

October 1, 2014 //
0

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.

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Categories autumn, Brain Injury, Free Will, Healthy Living, Love, Metaphors, Mindfulness, pain, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Relationships, Words

With Bells On

September 30, 2014 //
2

…Or at least with this ringing in my ears that is always with me. I woke with a wicked headache this morning. It creeps up through my arthritic vertebrae to the base of my skull, and the ringing in my ears seems both louder, and more distinctive; it’s actually several tones, frequencies, and noises, and it differs left and right. lol. This morning, the headache being what it is, I am listening to the ringing in my ears; the sound of my fingers on the keyboard serves reasonably well as percussion. I can’t change it, I may as well….something.

My coffee is good, and hot. I slept badly and it meets a need this morning, more than suiting an aesthetic of mornings in general. No nightmares, I just struggled to fall asleep, slept restlessly, woke often, and just didn’t rack up enough hours of rest. My traveling partner has expressed concern that I am pushing myself to hard at work. It’s a fair concern; I am. It’s a thing I do, and I frame it up as ‘playing to my strengths’ but I am aware I need to ease up and treat myself as a human being, and consider other needs, my own needs, too. Work kept my mind busy last night, and I did not rest well. That’s enough of that; it has to stop.

Right at the moment, from the perspective of the delicate new day, still unfolding, all potential nothing yet actual, today has a lot to offer. I hope it lives up to its potential.

Utterly unrelated to this moment and its beauty, right here, I’ll pause to observe that I continue to be concerned about the increase in spelling mistakes and difficulty finding the right word since my TIAs (transient ischemic attack) at the end of July. Painfully obvious to me, actually, and concerning way beyond vanity; this is my health, my life, and I exist in a fairly fragile vessel of flesh and mortality. I haven’t had another since mid-August, and it was ‘just’ those three… doesn’t stop me wondering what caused them, why now, or will I be okay. Especially on days with other headaches. I want to be around a good long time…I’d like to see 2083.

I take much better care of my  health these days. Doing so doesn’t take away the pain of earlier misadventure, or later aging, but it sure helps me maintain vitality and fitness well beyond what I’d manage otherwise. The meditation helps soothe me, builds emotional resilience, and teaches me balance and perspective; great for my blood pressure. The yoga helps me maintain a healthier weight, good flexibility, bone and joint health, and keeps my arthritic joints moving; great for reducing my pain, and building my fitness level for more, other, activities. I take a good multi-vitamin, and the supplements my doctor says I need, individually, based on testing, to maintain good health on a another level, and I manage my calories. I try to get enough sleep to really rest each night and wake refreshed each morning. I walk 5 miles a day, pretty nearly every day, sometimes more. Every small choice I make to take care of me adds up to a better experience of being who I am. I’ve gotten here one practice, one choice, at a time; it would have utterly overwhelmed me to try to tackle it all in one list of resolutions or commitments to myself. Being patient with myself, showing myself compassion, has been huge for reaching some of these goals; there’ve been many missteps along the way. I often learn best through my mistakes (like finding out some months ago what a weekend of eating sweets will do to my mood and temper after months of eschewing sugars!).

I’m just writing. Making observations. It’s a moment. I have a headache. I’ll call this one ‘doing my best’ this morning and find myself content with it.

Today is a good day to treat myself with compassion and take care of me. Today is a good day to be practical and real about pain – and pain management. Today is a good day to recognize we’ve all got our hurts, our own situation to face, our own individual personalized baggage, and we’re all in this together. Today is a good day to smile and understand that physical pain doesn’t have to be an impediment to happiness. Today is a good day to change the world.

Change is okay; it's not as if I can do anything to stop it. :-)

Change is okay; it’s not as if I can do anything to stop it. 🙂

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Categories autumn, Brain Injury, Healthy Living, Mindfulness, pain, Perspective, Sleepless Nights, The Big 5

There’s More to Perspective Than Meets the Eye

September 2, 2014 //
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I woke early this morning, and I woke gently. I felt good, and simply wasn’t going to back to sleep. It was 3:02 am. Too early, even for coffee. Not too early for meditation. Not too early for yoga. Eventually, it was no longer too early for coffee, either. So far a lovely morning in every sense; it contrasts the strangely emotional weekend, full of powerful lessons, opportunities for growth (some of them passed up, frankly, in favor of less worthy actions), and although it began in difficulty and drama, it finished gently and in love. There’s nothing simple about the life of a human primate in the 21st century; I had a rough weekend, emotionally, and woke this morning realizing I made choices that made it much worse. (Good one, Awareness, way to stay on top of things. lol)

Perspective still matters, even when I'm not looking.

Perspective still matters, even when I’m not looking.

A couple of deeply connected moments yesterday really shifted my perspective on the weekend, and in light of my challenges in the moment, on life and love as well.  It’s pretty awesome when life throws me a freebie in the way of a living metaphor, a teachable moment, or a lifeline…this one wasn’t that, but totally worth it, anyway.

One such moment, I admit I was openly weeping at a train station. Between the PTSD and the vagaries of getting through menopause, I’ve learned to find a certain acceptance of tears, even public ones, though I am not truly comfortable with weeping. I stood there in the sunshine, tears slowly making their way down my face one by one largely unnoticed. A small girl watched me intently, and for one moment we made eye contact, I tried to smile or mold my face into something less scary for a small girl than an older woman crying – that can’t present a very desirable outlook on adulthood, and I don’t want to blow the fun of it for some child. She frowned, more puzzled than distressed, and walked away. Moments later, there was a tug on the hem of my shirt, and I heard an adult woman nearby exclaim “Chelsea! Don’t bother that woman!”. I looked down into Chelsea’s face, her wide open unfrightened gaze met mine and she extended her small hand, in which she had a fairly large flower, drooping from a long stem, no doubt snatched eagerly from some nearby border or bit of landscaping. The bright orange of it pulled a smile through the tears and I accepted her gift and returned her smile. She said to me in a fairly grown up practical tone “It won’t live very long; I picked it for you. You should enjoy it right now, before it’s gone.” She was quite serious, and spoke to me with a tone she probably picked up from her mother, or a teacher, firm and no-nonsense, she was earnest with me and determined that I hear her. I looked at the flower as I held it, and courteously thanked her. “I will enjoy this very much right now, thank you, Chelsea. This is very kind; I needed a moment with a flower to brighten my day.” She beamed at me and affirmed confidently “They’re growing right there” she points to the border along the edge of the parking lot, where there were indeed a number of bright flowers swaying and bobbing in the summer breeze. “I won’t be here next time, you’ll have to do it yourself” she said, almost sternly, but with honest affection for another human being. A lovely moment. A lesson. Thank you, Chelsea, I hope you show the world a thing or two along your journey.

Enjoy now; too soon the moment will be gone.

Enjoy now; too soon the moment will be gone.

A contrasting moment, later the same morning, occurred when I chanced to have a conversation in passing with a woman running an adult foster home. She cares mostly for brain injured adults; injuries so severe that a lifetime of full-time care is what remains of an injured human. We chatted briefly, curbside, about her operation, the community, the neighborhood… I asked her what kind of people she provides support to, what sorts of injuries and conditions. She told me she works primarily with folks with severe TBIs who have limited mobility, impaired life skills – in short, people who need full-time care because their TBI was just that devastating, and their prognosis for recovery is that grim. Wow. Then she said something that took my breath away… “…except frontal lobe injuries. I’m just not equipped to deal with that.” She went on a few words more that I half-heard through the sudden ringing in my ears and the pounding of my heart. What I heard in my heart was ‘not your kind’. I found a quick polite end to the conversation and departed. I found a quiet shady parking lot and broke down in heart-felt sobbing; real crying, no bullshit. I wept without reservations. I’m not sure, now, quite why.

It was a turning point on the day. I spent the rest of it trying to ‘get things right in my head’ on a number of things I suddenly felt pretty sure I didn’t actually understand well at all. It was a good afternoon to stare into the face of my fears about my injury and realize how much worse it really could be. Perspective. I contemplated how practical life can force us to be, however kindly and well-intentioned we are when we begin. Perspective. I wondered if the woman running the adult foster care home understood, when I admitted I, myself, have a frontal lobe injury, how incredibly patronizing her forced attempt to make it right actually sounded (“Well, and look at you! How good you are doing!”). I wondered why it really mattered, any of it, in a world where small girls are savvy enough to hand out flowers to people who need them.  Perspective.

I wondered, too, why my day was so…difficult. As I stood again at the train station, preparing to head home, I recalled something said to me quite some time ago about the physical side of emotional wellness. Something about the necessity of addressing physical things with physical remedies. I recalled the morning, the first moment of the day… and realized I’d put myself at a profound disadvantage; I failed to recognize the physical outcome of being startled awake, and had been living all morning with my PTSD just raging in the background, and wandering around loose in the world wondering why I felt so disordered and shitty. lol. No. Way. Seriously? Oh yeah, still human. I went home, took care of calories, connected with a partner, took medication to address symptoms, meditated, enjoyed a long soak in Epsom salts, did some yoga, and spent the afternoon reading. When evening came, my partners and I enjoyed it; it was lovely.

Like a lighthouse on a rocky shore.

Like a lighthouse on a rocky shore.

Perspective matters. There’s no overdoing that one, and no ‘down side’ I’ve yet found. Today is a good day for perspective. Actually…today is generally a good day, so far, with amazing potential. Today is a day someone will change the world.

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Categories Anxiety, Brain Injury, Epsom salts, Healthy Living, Logic & Reason, Love, medical marijuana, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Relationships, Summer, The Big 5

Pain and the Moment

August 21, 2014 //
1

I hurt this morning. It’s ‘just arthritis’, and my spine aches, and I’m stiff even after this morning’s predawn yoga. It’s not new. Hell, it doesn’t even get in the way of a good time, generally. I feel it, however, and it intruded on my meditation more than once. Some of you are likely in pain, too. It sorts of goes with the whole ‘human experience’ package; this is a relatively fragile vessel, prone to injuries that accrue damage over time.  As excited as I am by how much the yoga and meditation do help…I still need additional pain relief to be comfortable much of the time. Taking pain killers comes with risks of its own, and even the Rx pain-killer I take doesn’t eliminate pain. I’m probably grateful for that, actually; how much damage could I do myself entirely by accident if I could not feel any pain?

Pain tells me something about my experience – both right  now, and the experience I have had over time.  Pain tells me something about how I am taking care of myself, and it tells me when there is more that needs to be done.

What pain is not, is ‘everything’, although it can certainly feel like ‘everything’ sometimes. Today isn’t that, I’m just thinking about pain in this moment, and feeling compassion for the myself regarding the pain I am in, and how it limits me (or how I choose to allow it to limit me), and I am thinking about the pain you may be in as well. Your pain also matters. Whether physical or emotional, the pain any one of us is experiencing in the moment may not be ‘everything’ – but it colors our experience, and may influence how we interact with, or perceive, others.  It’s so easy to get from ‘I hurt right now’ to ‘someone must pay for this bullshit!’ and find myself treating someone else poorly, because I hurt.  As I prepare to head into the world today I contemplate that and consider the pain other people are in, and hope that the effort to be mindful that we’re each having our own experience, and that for each of us the pain we are in, ourselves, is the pain we feel the most will keep me on track to treat myself and others with compassion and consideration – in spite of my pain. [That was a long and awkward sentence, my bad. Please read it again if you need to, before we move on…]

There’s not really more to say about pain. I’ve got mine. You’ve got yours. We’re all in this together. We’re each having our own experience. I’ll head out and do my best not to be unpleasant with people, and chances are you will to. If we should chance to meet, I hope it is pleasant for both of us, in spite of our pain. 🙂

"The Stillness Within" 8" x 10" acrylic on canvas with glow.

“The Stillness Within” 8″ x 10″ acrylic on canvas with glow.

I had a wonderfully intimate connected evening with my at-home partner last night – and that, too, in spite of my pain. We had dinner, and did a small bit of fun decorating, a little shopping, and something new. After we did yoga together, we also took time to meditate together. I am fairly shy about that, honestly; it feels very intimate on a level I lack language for, and it was wonderfully connected and calm and loving and… I definitely want to do that again. I’m not a yoga instructor; I practice because it works for me, helps me stay flexible, touches something in my heart, and helps me build emotional resilience, and recover a beautiful shape as I lose weight. I don’t think any of that means I have what it takes to go around teaching people something. My at-home partner really prefers to practice yoga with someone, rather than alone, and expressed some frustration with her lack of flexibility. Practicing together gave us a wonderful way to connect in a physical way, to share, to comfort, to enjoy each other; I was surprised that I didn’t feel self-conscious about gently sharing personal ‘best practices’ for some of the challenges she shared. It was a nice life lesson; we can each share what we know with the ones we love. Gentle coaching, loving communication, and heartfelt welcomed touch requires no certification.

It was a lovely evening to practice new skills. I found myself tapping new learning from some powerful books: Emotional Intimacy, Mindfulness for Beginners and Just One Thing come to mind. We shared new music suggested to us by our traveling partner with our yoga and meditation, which was a lovely way to connect him to the experience we were sharing. I don’t remember any pain from those moments, although I was in serious pain beforehand, and obviously so later, too. Funny how that works. How does that work? I’m glad it does.

Unfinished canvas...what will it become when the moment arrives?

Unfinished canvas…what will it become when the moment arrives?

Today is a good day to enjoy the moment. Today is a good day to acknowledge progress, however small. Today is a good day for love. Today is a good day to treat people well – even myself. Today is a good day to change the world.

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Categories Art, art and the artist, Brain Injury, Free Will, Healthy Living, Love, Mindfulness, pain, Perspective, Relationships, The Big 5, women

It Gets Easier With Practice

August 20, 2014 //
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That’s a simple enough observation to share on a quiet morning; it gets easier with practice. It’s true of nearly anything one might practice, and would go without saying for that reason, only… I don’t know about  you, but I regularly forget that. I’m not looking to achieve perfection through practicing; it’s enough that practicing helps. I’m delighted that both the practicing and applying the skill, task, process, or practice I am practicing does get easier. With practice. 🙂

Like pictures of flowers, it's worth it to practice.

Like pictures of flowers, it’s worth it to practice.

Yesterday had all the potential in the world to go very wrong. I had taken my dose of Rx pain relief the night before, and rather carelessly just toss the bottle back into its place without being particularly mindful that I had just taken the last dose. As in, I had run out. I work hard to prevent that from happening because the outcome of unexpectedly withdrawing from it is not pleasant. I didn’t really think I was at risk – there was another whole bottled right there…only… there wasn’t. That was an entirely different medication, and the re-fill of my pain-killer hadn’t yet arrived in the mail. That seemed no big deal in the morning, at least initially. I was in a great mood and not much pain. So I shrugged it off and went on with my day. Before I even got to work, my mood started to turn, and I felt this simmering anger in the background that I couldn’t explain – it was a lovely day and I felt great when the day started.

By the time I got to work I felt inexplicably resentful, cross, short-tempered and hostile. Being ever so human, my brain started to craft explanations that seemed reasonable, which – since there wasn’t anything wrong to cause the feelings I was having, didn’t bode well for the future of the day, or my mood.  Later, some juxtaposition of thoughts and observations drove me to take a ‘time out’ in a quiet corner and meditate for a moment or two, and as I gently considered my being, I realized I was in a lot of pain. A lot. That’s when the smile broke through, and my shoulders relaxed, and the ferocity building in my heart died away; of course I was in pain, I hadn’t taken my pain medication. The last piece slipped into place and I recognized that the medication I hadn’t taken easily accounted for the entire experience. My experience immediately improved. I still hurt. I spent the day in a lot of pain. I still had that headache, and withdrawing from a pain-killer unexpectedly does suck – but it’s totally survivable, only mildly unpleasant. Certainly, it does not amount to an emotional betrayal of any sort, and there’s no call to allow it to ruin a productive work day.

I spent the rest of the day almost merry. I phoned my physician, asked to have the Rx refilled at the local pharmacy. My at-home partner offered to pick it up on her way home so it would be waiting for me when I arrived. Emotional crisis averted. I even thought to pay myself on the back for not allowing my emotions to rule – or ruin – the day, and enjoyed a moment of quite celebration – practicing the practices definitely making an every day difference.

Yoga is harder when I’m in pain, but getting through a sequence that addresses that pain reduces the pain I’m in.  That’s one practice I definitely intend to keep.

Meditation doesn’t come naturally during an emotional storm, or an angry moment, or dark despair; that’s why it requires practice, and making that commitment has resulted [for me] in more emotional resilience, more awareness and presence, less fearfulness and anxiety, better sleep, and a deep sense of calm that is easier to reach. Another practice I’m fully committed to; it’s the most powerful Rx I’ve ever had for some of what ails me.

Self-care practices go unnoticed in the lives of so many people. Observation in my own experience tells me, sadly, that much of what is wrong with the world is how poorly we treat ourselves, care for ourselves (or don’t), and tend to our own needs; we are rarely able to do better for others than we can do for ourselves. I’m fairly strict with myself these days, in a loving way, about being on time with medication, getting enough sleep, eating right, and staying on track with fitness goals – because when I treat myself well, I treat the world well, and enjoy my experience more.

A lovely day to treat myself well, and enjoy my experience more.

A lovely day to treat myself well, and enjoy my experience more.

Today seems ordinary enough, in a very pleasant way. Today I’ll take my time, savor the moments, and enjoy my experience. Today is a good day to enjoy the world.

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Categories Brain Injury, Free Will, Healthy Living, Metaphors, Mindfulness, pain, Perspective, The Big 5
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