6:30 a.m. Another night with wakefulness. Previous night I slept through, but nearly all nights since I slept with Z on Jan. 14 have been pleasantly wakeful. Practicing meditating while lying down. Without the strong energy of the Arising & Passing Away nana that I experienced during fall/winter 2011/12, meditation while lying down requires strong effort, and even stronger effort to see beneath the tension and brain fog. It works best to bring in some trauma recovery techniques, specifically to verbalize thoughts associated with what I experience in the right torso. They are the same thoughts that come up while seated, but they are stronger and scarier and harder to listen to: I don't know what I'm doing! What a waste of time! There are emergencies out in the world that I'd better attend to--I'd better get my work done, and figure out what to do with Mom!!! And, deeper: I regret all the time I've wasted. And: This is hard, I want to rest. When I silently verbalize these very strong messages, I become aware of very strong aliveness, anger, fear, desire, pleasure ... partial relaxation of the right jaw and distress upon realizing how very clenched it usually is ...
Yesterday I was very deliberate in my computer programming. I tried hard to stay awake and mindful of exactly what I was doing. I tried hard not to deny what was actually going on: that I was spending nearly two hours examining the changing value of a single variable, and that I went down a couple of dead ends due to poor mindfulness of ... of ... (I'm sitting here for minutes, trying to understand and articulate what I was not mindful of.) I habitually deny the nature of my mistakes and inefficiencies, because I am afraid that I'm no good. Of course, this denial doesn't prevent me from walking around with a very unpleasant, pervasive sense that I'm no good. I would do well to really embrace and investigate the details of how I work. Let's try again: I went down a couple of dead ends because I sloppily inserted debugging print statements without really understanding what I should expect at those points ... and I didn't understand what I should expect because my brain felt too small to encompass it. I think that breaking programming down into very small, understandable tasks with clear objectives would help me work with fewer mistakes and a greater sense that I ...
I will trust that I will be able to articulate this better the more I practice mindful programming.
When I get stuck and feel panicky that I won't figure it out, and I go to the sensations in the body, I see nausea. Following a suggestion of T, my therapist, I then place attention on my connection with the earth, intending release of whatever I am trying to expel, and I do get a sense of release, evidenced by the quick and immediate subsiding of the nausea (which may, just as quickly, return when I go back to the thoughts of being stuck).
Sunday, January 26, 2014
Tuesday, January 21, 2014
What's going on right now
Here is a quick spilling out of what's been happening in my life lately:
Six year old self began speaking out during therapy session a few weeks ago, but has been silent since. I want to know what happened to me when I was young.
For about the past 2 years, progress in psychotherapy has been steady and exciting.
When I pay attention to my experience and avoid suppressing, there is strong pleasure and excitement. What to do with it?
Body feels more and more like the ocean; I feel the strong pulsing of blood any time I am mindful of my body.
Growing intimacy with Z feels wonderful and out of control and unpredictable and scary and embarrassing, and I haven't talked about it with anyone besides Z and E and therapists and a little bit with J.
Recovering from prophylactic laparoscopic bilateral salpingo-oophorectomy on Dec. 23. I am done having menstrual periods and I can hardly believe it! For the past 8 days or so, have had wakefulness during the night and a few very mild hot flashes. So far, all is enjoyable. Also, though, dry eyes.
New job as of Dec. 1. Spent first week finishing up stuff from old job, and weeks 3 and 4 recovering at home from surgery, so I've really only been working in the new job for one month. There is a lot of settling down and shaking out going on with regard to what the work is and my relationships with my new co-workers. Feels unpredictable in a similar way to my relationship with Z.
Noticing gradual increase in confidence in all relationships. Less fear of anger/conflict. Helped by Z, who is not afraid to have heated discussions. Helped by progress in therapy. The best.
Working more and more with movement. Subtle movement. Most lately: noticing the constant tension in the front of the torso as I round my back and bring shoulders forward to protect. When I notice and release, so much emotion!
Six year old self began speaking out during therapy session a few weeks ago, but has been silent since. I want to know what happened to me when I was young.
For about the past 2 years, progress in psychotherapy has been steady and exciting.
When I pay attention to my experience and avoid suppressing, there is strong pleasure and excitement. What to do with it?
Body feels more and more like the ocean; I feel the strong pulsing of blood any time I am mindful of my body.
Growing intimacy with Z feels wonderful and out of control and unpredictable and scary and embarrassing, and I haven't talked about it with anyone besides Z and E and therapists and a little bit with J.
Recovering from prophylactic laparoscopic bilateral salpingo-oophorectomy on Dec. 23. I am done having menstrual periods and I can hardly believe it! For the past 8 days or so, have had wakefulness during the night and a few very mild hot flashes. So far, all is enjoyable. Also, though, dry eyes.
New job as of Dec. 1. Spent first week finishing up stuff from old job, and weeks 3 and 4 recovering at home from surgery, so I've really only been working in the new job for one month. There is a lot of settling down and shaking out going on with regard to what the work is and my relationships with my new co-workers. Feels unpredictable in a similar way to my relationship with Z.
Noticing gradual increase in confidence in all relationships. Less fear of anger/conflict. Helped by Z, who is not afraid to have heated discussions. Helped by progress in therapy. The best.
Working more and more with movement. Subtle movement. Most lately: noticing the constant tension in the front of the torso as I round my back and bring shoulders forward to protect. When I notice and release, so much emotion!
Interacting with my mother, who has dementia
So very much has been happening in my life lately, inside and out, and I haven't been writing about it. It really seems like a matter of not having enough attention to write. Almost every day I have to attend to something that has to do with my mother, who has middle-stage Alzheimer's: either I speak with her at length on skype, or repeatedly on the phone, or I am making appointments for her or writing emails or talking to my sister-in-law or trying to figure out what to do next.
I just read an article by someone who is very good with teens, talking about how she is. For a moment I thought, "I'm not good with teens, this is just going to make me feel bad." Then I read it and enjoyed it. Then I realized that I am similarly very good with Mom, and that others might benefit from reading about what I do.
Interacting with my mother, who has dementia
Mom is in the stage where she is beginning to speak poetically. Example from this morning:
Terry: Mom, it is so nice that you are peeling that orange for me!
Mom: Yes, although it's only halfway.
I really don't know what she meant, but I just smiled and said, "Yes, it is, but it is so great!" It didn't matter exactly what she meant. The general idea is that she felt her peeling was somehow imperfect, and I responded with words to show I appreciated it anyway.
As long as I've known her, Mom has been insecure. She compulsively worries that she is not good enough, that her work is not good enough, that her home is not good enough. Ten years ago she used to help me and Eric build our WeGo Team Link tow gear. She sewed the belts on the sewing machine. She was very good at it, but each time she did it, she would repeatedly ask me if she was doing it right. I did give her the reassurance because I wanted the belts, but my stomach turned as I did it, and I resented it later. I think I was wise enough to know that she needed the reassurance due to deeply engrained psychological forces, but because Mom was not yet demented, I still hated her lack of self confidence and could't let go of the desire for her to be a better, more confident mother.
Now that she is demented, I've been able to let go of wanting her to be anything other than she is. This is the same attitude I've always naturally had with children and animals.
Now I am constantly aware of, and accepting of, her need for reassurance, so I try to give a constant stream of it. Every minute or two I will say, "Mom, I enjoy being with you so much!" She never gets tired of hearing it.
This morning she came into my bedroom and said, "Terry? You're here. I didn't know you were here!" She was distressed because she felt surprised, even though I had been staying with her for 2 nights already. I made up a story and said, "I came in late last night, after you went to bed. I'm sorry to surprise you! Come sit next to me." I put my arms around her and said, "I'm so happy to see you!" She brightened up.
Recently I borrowed a technique from my neighbor, Amy, who is an excellent parent to her two young children. When Mom is distressed and caught up in her cyclical thoughts, I look at her and say, gently and with love, "Mom, look at me. Do you see that I love you? Look at me!"
I just read an article by someone who is very good with teens, talking about how she is. For a moment I thought, "I'm not good with teens, this is just going to make me feel bad." Then I read it and enjoyed it. Then I realized that I am similarly very good with Mom, and that others might benefit from reading about what I do.
Interacting with my mother, who has dementia
Mom is in the stage where she is beginning to speak poetically. Example from this morning:
Terry: Mom, it is so nice that you are peeling that orange for me!
Mom: Yes, although it's only halfway.
I really don't know what she meant, but I just smiled and said, "Yes, it is, but it is so great!" It didn't matter exactly what she meant. The general idea is that she felt her peeling was somehow imperfect, and I responded with words to show I appreciated it anyway.
As long as I've known her, Mom has been insecure. She compulsively worries that she is not good enough, that her work is not good enough, that her home is not good enough. Ten years ago she used to help me and Eric build our WeGo Team Link tow gear. She sewed the belts on the sewing machine. She was very good at it, but each time she did it, she would repeatedly ask me if she was doing it right. I did give her the reassurance because I wanted the belts, but my stomach turned as I did it, and I resented it later. I think I was wise enough to know that she needed the reassurance due to deeply engrained psychological forces, but because Mom was not yet demented, I still hated her lack of self confidence and could't let go of the desire for her to be a better, more confident mother.
Now that she is demented, I've been able to let go of wanting her to be anything other than she is. This is the same attitude I've always naturally had with children and animals.
Now I am constantly aware of, and accepting of, her need for reassurance, so I try to give a constant stream of it. Every minute or two I will say, "Mom, I enjoy being with you so much!" She never gets tired of hearing it.
This morning she came into my bedroom and said, "Terry? You're here. I didn't know you were here!" She was distressed because she felt surprised, even though I had been staying with her for 2 nights already. I made up a story and said, "I came in late last night, after you went to bed. I'm sorry to surprise you! Come sit next to me." I put my arms around her and said, "I'm so happy to see you!" She brightened up.
Recently I borrowed a technique from my neighbor, Amy, who is an excellent parent to her two young children. When Mom is distressed and caught up in her cyclical thoughts, I look at her and say, gently and with love, "Mom, look at me. Do you see that I love you? Look at me!"
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