Posts Tagged ‘self awareness’
Sound Carries
Continuing with the theme of how serene it can be in our little paradise, particularly in the early morning, Cyndie and I caught ourselves being the “loud family” yesterday on our walk with Asher on the way to feed the horses. Sounds carry, we know that. Our immediate neighbor to the south has a phone ringer on one of his outbuildings that must be out of an old Bell Telephone rotary dial model. When it rings, it seems like it’s coming from within our paddock fence line.
When we emerged from the woods yesterday morning, the cloudy sky was particularly fascinating with a dramatic swirl directly overhead. I knew a photo wouldn’t capture the full essence of what our eyes were perceiving, but snapped a shot anyway.
When we walk and talk in the morning, it is common that one of us will get ahead or fall behind, pulling a weed or vine, so the projection of our voices picks up a bit as we carry on conversations. Suddenly, I’ll become aware that we are shouting at each other on an otherwise silent outdoor morning in such a way that the neighbors and the horses wouldn’t be able to miss.
Anybody outside yesterday would have heard us marveling over the spectacle in the sky, or how Asher was about to chase after a deer that had waited until he and I were only about four feet away before it bolted off through the trees, and our boy perfectly responded to my command to “Leave It!” and stayed with me.
The kind of conversational stories that a person can be so involved in telling that one loses track of how loud their voice has become. Yeah, way too many mornings, we are the loud family marching through the woods and along the back pasture to the barn, carrying on at the top of our lungs in the otherwise blissful serenity of our little valley.
“The Hayses are up and about,” the neighbors will announce.
With a chance of rain in the forecast and verifiably chilly temperatures, we put rain sheets on the horses yesterday morning while they were eating from their feed buckets. The precipitation didn’t show up until much later, but Light had made her own decision about being covered by the time it started to fall.
Cyndie found the blanket wadded up on the ground in the middle of the afternoon, bottom straps still clipped, and nothing ripped open. It must have been a fascinating sight to witness her Houdini performance of getting herself free of that. I’m confused about whether she pulled it up over her head or down off her butt. Had to be over her head. There’s no other way.
I’m glad to have missed it. Catching her in the middle of that would have been frightening. I wonder if she made a lot of noise while wiggling and wrangling it off of herself.
The way sound carries, the neighbors probably knew about it before we did.
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Something Happened
When I passed the milestone of 65 years of age, something happened. Something more than the change of health insurance to Medicare. It was something much more subtle and has been worming around in my unconscious insidiously in the mere five months since my last birthday.
I’m losing momentum in my determination to tick away at something that builds strength, boosts stamina, and generally improves overall health each and every day. Last week, I opted to stay in bed instead of getting up to do my planking and stretching routines.
I’ve been telling myself that it was just a break and I could get back on track any time, but the number of breaks in that routine has been occurring with frighteningly increasing frequency in the last year. Similarly, I’ve noticed I don’t pay as close attention to the daily percentage of added sugar in my diet choices.
I think my mind is accepting the natural changes occurring in my body as joints grow arthritic and hormones and metabolism gradually and progressively fade. Being disinclined to seek hormone therapy options to combat natural aging, the best thing I can do involves exercise and diet.
I know the solution, but I’m losing the oomph to address it.
It’s like a football game where you play great, and the team pulls off some spectacular plays to keep the game close, but in the end, you lose by 1 point.
All that effort, but without a desired result.
I’m willing to accept I might not maintain my zest for the routines I’ve established with the intensity of my previous decade, but something happened with my motivation that I will need to address. Luckily, I haven’t replaced my good health practices with new habits like smoking or becoming a problem drinker.
Basically, I think I’m battling the feeling of becoming a tired old man before I actually am one.
The something that is happening is, I’m letting the gradual changes of aging get to my head.
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Utmost Avoidance
The extreme level of distress I’m feeling over witnessing the election of an authoritarian government led by such a jerk alerts me to my white male heterosexual privilege. I dared to hope. I assumed that an overwhelming majority of people in this country would choose the ethical leader and preservation of our democracy.
I am so aghast over the implications of having all the threats made by the Republican candidate for US President now able to be acted upon; it has me uncertain about how to cope.
That’s when it occurs to me that this is how it must always feel for the many oppressed people for whom this is just another Thursday. Generations of unjustly marginalized people have succeeded in carrying on in the face of enslavement, or their nation’s people being forced onto reservations or forced into internment camps, denied housing, denied jobs, and prohibited from loving whomever they choose.
At my first job after tech school, I discovered I had been lied to about a base salary. I quit on the spot. I knew I would find another job, a better job. I cold-called a company and was given an offer after one interview. No one ever hindered my ability to get a loan and buy any of the homes in the places I chose. No one follows me around a store, watching my every move. I’ve never been harassed or threatened on the street for the way I look, how I wear my pants or who I choose to love.
There is an SNL skit depicting the 2016 election night reactions of a group of white people in an apartment with Dave Chappelle (and eventually, Chris Rock) reacting; the majority being oblivious to their privilege, Dave and Chris commenting in ways that show the comparison of their perspectives and revealing the clueless viewpoints of the others.
I don’t mean to diminish the truly threatening prospects of allowing small-minded people to take control of our entire country. I don’t want my shock over the election results to dishonor others who have been living under unjust discrimination of any flavor throughout lifetimes.
It is what it is. I am resisting the urge to put up a billboard-sized sign on the back of a semi-trailer with a curse word in front of you-know-who’s name or “Not My President” like the ones that have soiled Wisconsin landscapes for the past four years, but I realize we need to be better than that.
I really do want to offer respect for those who have maintained their dignity throughout generations of oppression and rise above vindictive antagonisms at this point. As long as Cyndie and I are able, we will guard our precious property from rancor and resume cultivating peaceful and loving energy, which we will beam out into the world like a beacon of goodness for others to find and absorb.
If something happens in the news that we need to know about, we trust friends and family will let us know. Otherwise, we have decided to aim for the utmost avoidance of all news media. Luckily, we can still safely watch “Shrinking.”
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Something’s Different
Is there such a thing as “almost sick?” Over the last two days, I’ve been experiencing sensations that are atypical for me. An astute observer can sense you have a fever before actually measuring your temperature. Maybe I’m just hypersensitive in this regard but I tend to notice even a tiny rise in my normal body temperature. It doesn’t measure high enough to justify claiming it as a “fever,” but I feel all the associated body aches.
At the same time, I have none of the usual symptoms that I always get. No sore throat. No airway issues. No stomach or digestive issues.
I have felt a bit unsteady on my feet, but I don’t feel sick. I just don’t feel like my normal self.
Cyndie’s homemade chicken & wild rice soup and extra rest have been our treatment for my altered reality. It has come at the expense of being outside on two more of our glorious climate-warmed autumn days. It has been “July in October” here in west-central Wisconsin.
The other day when I was out harvesting rocks, I stopped to soak up the beautiful spectacle of some of the successfully transplanted ornamental Japanese Silver Grass we replanted near the labyrinth.
Had I known it would do as well as it has I would have had us take a bigger portion. The home plant we were trying to thin doesn’t look any different at this point. We could have taken twice what we did. This is what it looked like back in August:
It’s funny what a little success will do for my confidence. I’m feeling inspired to do even more land-sculpting next spring to continue our latest trend of finding and nurturing volunteer oak trees to thrive, as well as moving around perennials to enhance our paths and trails across the various mini-environments of our twenty acres.
This month marks the 10th anniversary of our arrival to this paradise we call Wintervale. With only a minor bit of wavering in the ten years we’ve been here, I’d say our little experiment in the adventure of transitioning from suburbanites to rural property owners can be deemed a success.
I don’t want to be any place else at this point in my life. Here’s hoping for another decade to come.
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Outstretched Arms
As if reaching for a hug or stretching to embrace the world before me, arms wide and heart open, I stand and gaze up toward the sky with lyrics from all my favorite songs strolling around in my increasingly foggy memory bank.
Can it be so hard
To love yourself without thinking
Someone else holds a lower card?
Free to Be, 1977 Bruce Cockburn
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Holding a sense of wonder has got to be one of the great secrets of living an enlightened life. Hah! Brings to mind the great darts episode of Ted Lasso:
“Be curious, not judgemental.”
In which the main character apparently misattributes the quote to Walt Whitman.
What does the world hold for me today? It’s mostly blue sky now but that’s changed twice already since I woke up a half-hour later than usual this morning. As I was getting Delilah into her harness for her morning stroll through our woods, the sun was shining brightly into our front entrance. I grabbed my sunglasses and off we went into the not-too-cold morning air.
Halfway through the woods on our way around toward the barn to feed the horses, I fumbled to stash my sunglasses in a vest pocket. The sky was filled with clouds.
Now the clouds have disappeared again, about as fast as they had shown up a couple of hours ago.
Last night’s weather forecast for today promised high winds but they haven’t kicked up here yet. I’ve left the barn doors closed in anticipation of avoiding the dusty turmoil that blustery days can kick up in there.
Here’s to being open to whatever insights the universe happens to provide for our further enlightenment on a sunny Sunday with no firm commitments demanding our time or attention.
I’m feeling a certain pull to lay down and stare up at the clouds while listening to a random shuffle of my music library.
Imagine that.
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Deepening Self-Awareness
At this very moment, take note of what muscle(s) you are unconsciously clenching in whatever position you find yourself. One aspect of deepening self-awareness involves moving our unconscious activity closer to our consciousness. This doesn’t mean we have to be thinking about every single breath or heartbeat, but you can become more “aware” while not being exclusively focused on each one.
Sometimes, awareness occurs within a split second, too. That’s all the time it takes to notice where your posture might be clenched. Then it’s on to the next attention-getter.
Maybe the rapid-fire jump of attention is the thing to notice. Slow a mind down and the body will happily follow.
The most valuable reward I have discovered with my growing self-awareness (a term I actually have an aversion to due to the unappealing aura associated with over-indulgence of said behavior) is an equal increase of awareness for those around me.
Coming from the perspective of the self-centered focus of depression to any increase in balance toward healthier attention for others has been a very positive boost for me in my journey toward optimal health.
In contrast, an unanticipated flare-up in nerve discomfort from the bulging of a degenerating disc in my lower back snaps my attention dramatically back to self over all others. Try as I might to avoid the onset of self-pity, the pull is stronger than gravity and almost as relentless.
Mind and body are engaged in a battle of wits at this point. Should I refrain from moving? Should I clench all the other back muscles to prevent my moving into a position where the mild discomfort becomes a jolt of stabbing pain? Will excruciating pain actually happen, or is that just an archived memory from when it did happen one other time years ago?
I’ve been treated with traction and therapeutic exercise over the years to ameliorate the impact of the worst symptoms. These days the impact is much more subdued. But the memories remain.
The daily planking exercises and yoga stretching I have been doing for the last few years have provided me with better core strength in my body than ever before, but that doesn’t stop degeneration. At this point, I credit the muscle-building effort with softening the blow of the failing discs and allowing me to continue to function, albeit a little stiffly, through occasional periods of decline.
I am slowed, not incapacitated.
There is another fella around these parts who is forging onward despite an uncomfortable affliction. The extent of frostbite our rooster Rocky suffered on his wattle and comb is clearly obvious.
It’s hard to tell if his growing orneriness is due to that or simply a function of his continuing maturation into the valiant protector of his brood of hens. For some reason, he has chosen to single out the Buff Orpington for ex-communication from the group. I’m guessing she was the previous dominant hen and he feels a need to go overboard in making the point he is now the one in charge.
Both Cyndie and I have needed to demonstrate our dominance over him lately to assure he understands the ultimate pecking order around here.
Rocky needs to improve his self-awareness to become a better leader who recognizes how everyone around him is feeling about his actions and behaviors.
Now check to see if those muscles you noticed being clenched a few minutes ago unconsciously tightened up again.
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RS Interview 4
Picking up where yesterday’s post left off, the Relative Something interview with *The* John W. Hays continues on the topic of love and more…
RS: Love seems like a worthy topic!
JWH: Love is my religion. It is one common theme woven through all world religious beliefs. Love is universal. When situations require a decision, using love as a compass to guide that decision will make the world a better place. No dogma required. Love doesn’t necessarily provide certainty, it accepts mystery. Love is all we need.
RS: Is this a change for you, the focus on love?
JWH: Well, I suppose there has been a transition over the years. I think the primary significance for me was learning to love myself enough to overcome negative self-talk. A secondary shift came about as I grew weary of the abuses and hypocrisies that were being exposed in organized religions. The way political parties wield religious beliefs like weapons. The fact that religious faiths would go to war against other human beings who worship differently.
Humans defining a deity seems like the ultimate hubris to me. And a horrible construct the powerful use to control others and gain wealth. Especially horrible because it is usually masqueraded under a veil of love. Love deserves better. The best response I see to that is to keep the love and leave the rest behind.
I’ve learned to love myself in a more healthy way and use love beyond the confines of organized religion to navigate my interactions with others in the world.
RS: What is something people wouldn’t know about you from reading what you write?
JWH: Not much. I’m embarrassingly transparent. Basically, they won’t know what I don’t write. For some reason, I haven’t been writing about the fact that it’s been so long since I last played guitar that I can’t remember when the last time was. And I probably haven’t written about it because I don’t really know why I stopped. I wonder if it has anything to do with the way I am aging, mentally, and physically, but the influences are too intangible to explain it with one simple pat reason.
Thinking about it, which is what happens when I try to write on the subject –and not writing about it has meant I could avoid thinking about it– I suspect it is related to the amount of time I have been commuting to the day-job four days a week. Exhaustion saps my creative energy. It also leaves less oomph to want to pedal my bikes up hills and into winds. I did not ride a bike at all this summer. When the pandemic canceled the annual June week of biking and camping, I lost that incentive to do conditioning rides. My attention defaulted to property maintenance on our acres. There is always more that can be done than there are hours and days.
The good news is that I have been incredibly happy to do that. I question myself about the health risks of not making music or riding my bikes, but maybe my version of aging is one of working on our property and then nestling inside our gorgeous home to type out my thoughts on a computer.
I have an inkling that a day in the not-so-distant future when that thing called retirement happens, my recreational pursuits could return with a vengeance. I think that would be absolutely lovely.
RS: Amen to that.
Thank you, JWH for agreeing to be the first interviewee in what Relative Something hopes will become an ongoing occasional feature in the years ahead. *This* John W. Hays’ take on things and experiences involves and is influenced by innumerable others. This will provide an opportunity to expand the narrative. Because, why not?
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RS Interview 3
Yes, there was more. The Relative Something interview with *The* John W. Hays meandered into the subjects of climate change and mental health. Are they related?…
RS: That’s enough of the namby-pamby rambling about pandemics and pets.
JWH: Uh-oh.
RS: What is it about your fascination with the weather every day?
JWH: You tell me?
I know, I know, I talk about the weather a lot. Doesn’t everybody? I mean, it SNOWED here yesterday! How can you avoid talking about that?
RS: Reading what you write, one might get the sense you are not a climate change denier.
JWH: [sarcastically] Well, it still gets really cold here and snows, so global warming might just be a hoax.
Some things in this world change gradually. I have been witnessing the constant increasing trend of fossil-fuel-emission-induced impact for my entire life. There were predictions made 30 years ago about the calamities the world is experiencing. Melting polar regions, rising seas, high-temperature records increasing, droughts, fires, floods, increasing intensity of storms. Honestly, simply seeing a graphic display of the atmospheric carbon dioxide levels during the industrial age compared to hundreds of thousands of years before should be enough for anyone to comprehend the reality. Human influence is changing the planet earth. What is the motivation to claim otherwise? At the highest levels of governance, corporations, and wealthy investors, I propose the motivation is financial. I can’t get my head around how anyone would be willing to risk our space ship for their greed to have more for themselves.
RS: Almost sounds like a mental health problem.
JWH: You brought it up. Dysfunctions of mental health could probably be viewed as the root cause of the majority of world problems. Wait… is stupidity classified as a mental illness? Sorry. Although, for me, education was a huge part of my success in dealing with my depression. My years of dysfunctional thinking were turned around in months after learning what was going on in my mind. Obviously, mental health issues are complex. In terms of addictions, we can educate someone about the harmful effects of smoking, but how many times has that knowledge been useless in getting someone to quit? Same challenge for every other mental affliction, I suppose. There are factors that go much deeper than just knowing. Maybe, more than simply having knowledge, there is an aspect of enlightenment involved.
Our thinking is intertwined with our physical chemistry. Our bodies are manufacturing and distributing mood-altering drugs. Our physical bodies are influenced by invisible forces around us. Moods are contagious. A well-educated person can be intelligent about a lot of subjects, yet be oblivious to how their anger is triggering chemicals in their body and how their angst is triggering people around them. That gap in perception can be narrowed by becoming more enlightened. More self-aware.
Increased self-awareness helps to open up the capacity to become more globally aware. An enlightened view would encompass equal cognizance of both self and others.
I don’t know if it’s obvious where I am going with this, but it has to do with love.
RS: Love seems like a worthy topic!
to be continued…
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Pay Attention
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Attention to what? That’s a good question.
Here are some possibilities:
- Your posture right now.
- Who is suffering most among those you know and love.
- The best return for your investment of time.
- How long it has been since you voiced appreciation to someone deserving.
- How you might help someone less deserving.
- Your most common habitual “tick.”
- When you sense yourself not acting in your own best interest.
- How false information is being used for unethical advantage.
- What it is you are actually afraid of.
- How long it has been since you laughed and cried at the same time.
- What you actually ate in one day that was not a healthy choice.
- How swiftly days become weeks and weeks become months.
- How much sleep you are getting.
- Maintaining a healthy social distance from all others.
- The expression on your face when not actively smiling.
- How much of our unspoken thinking is inadvertently communicated.
- When you find yourself unable to ask for what you need or want.
- The power of love.
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Infuriating Sounds
I’m just discovering this now. The irrational over-reaction I occasionally experience –say, to the mouth sounds of my wife chewing beside me– has a label: Misophonia. I’m well aware of plenty of people who voice irritation over a variety of particular sounds, but reading about the fight-or-flight reaction being triggered in the brain really caught my attention.
When I feel this surprisingly intense anxiety pop up, as the ambient quiet of an evening gets disrupted by the munching of almonds, I have been curious about a sudden desire to crawl out of my skin in hope of escape.
It’s as if I’m being attacked.
Since it is obvious that I’m not, the idea that my brain is firing as if the command to run away has been triggered, seems like a very plausible explanation.
Almost everyone is irritated by the sound of fingernails across a chalkboard, but a misophonic reaction goes well beyond irritation.
Misophonia is characterized by intense emotion like rage or fear in response to highly specific sounds, particularly ordinary sounds that other people make…
“It’s as if the survival part of the brain thinks somehow it’s being attacked or it’s in danger…”
https://www.mprnews.org/story/2019/03/18/npr-misophonia-when-lifes-noises-drive-you-mad
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Choosing to just ignore the sound is not an option when your brain has fired and the whole body is revving up for a fight.
“Must. Stop. That. Sound. Before it kills me!”
My siblings may recall our family dinnertime ritual of being chastised by our beloved sister, Linda, for letting our teeth make contact with our fork.
I now have a better understanding of why that probably made her so angry.
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Relative Something 