It’s a quiet Saturday morning, following on the heels of many busy days, rich with family and conversation and planning, doing, and being. Busy. I am delighted, amused, and inspired, hanging out with my 20-year-old stepson and his love.  Yesterday we three explored a small piece of the world together.

One small piece of our amazing world: The International Rose Test Garden in Portland, Oregon.

One small piece of our amazing world: The International Rose Test Garden in Portland, Oregon.

It was a lovely good time and we headed for home quite exhausted from the day’s adventures. I ended the day satisfied and happy, and slept deeply through the night.  (Maybe a good night’s sleep is about really exerting myself during the preceding day? lol)

I woke unexpectedly, just after 5 am,  from realistic dreaming about very surreal things (a neon green talking coffee can arguing gender politics with a painted porcelain thimble can’t be a real thing, right?). I woke feeling okay, I think, but as I attempted to return to sleep, I found myself becoming progressively more discontent, even angry.  It began to build. I tossed and turned frustratedly. I wept a handful of pointless tears.  Around six I gave up on sleep and got up for coffee. A good latte, a beautiful sunrise, and some quiet time with my thoughts really made a difference, too, for a change.  I find myself, now, in a pretty good place. The core notion that was driving my anger is based on a real need – and I am still learning about dealing with my needs well, and simply.  My challenges in that area sometimes result in a tiny window of opportunity to understand myself being missed in the storm of developing emotions. It’s a nice change for me that this morning went differently – that I made different choices, and am experiencing a more satisfactory outcome. (Yay me!)

Interestingly, having identified the need, I am also having to face the inconvenient present-day reality that for now, there isn’t much in the way of a solution.  Time is what it is. Schedules are what they are. There simply are not enough hours in the day, or good opportunities, for me to enjoy predictable regular whole days one on one with either of my partners. Ever. It’s painful for me, and saddens me, because I also don’t have predictable regular whole days of time to myself, either. I want and need both. This isn’t really a type of need where compromise proves wholly satisfying, for me – I mean, I say ‘whole days’, for instance, and I’d likely find even 4-6 hours enough to meet most needs… and there just aren’t many opportunities for such, and when they come up, they are often last minute, unplanned, and in no way regular or predictable. lol. Sometimes being a grown up sucks. Having a tantrum over time doesn’t actually meet real needs or provide long-term satisfaction, nor does it increase the amount of available time in a day – quite the contrary.  So…there are still 24 hours in a day (and I still try to sleep for about 8 of those when I can), I still spend 45 of them (or a more) away from home, and when the weekend comes around, we all want to be chilling at home, together. It is what it is.  I am 50 though, and life has put a lot of curriculum in front of me for contemplation – and one thing I have learned is that circumstances change, and what feels like ‘always’, ‘never’, or ‘forever’ right now, may be as rare and ephemeral as a soap bubble a few days, weeks or months down the road. So… I think I’ll have another excellent latte, and consider the painting-in-progress – next steps to plan – and the sweet inspiration to spend the rest of the summer painting roses, and simply enjoy the loveliness of a beautiful day. 😀

I do love a quiet morning. 😀

So much beauty...so little time.

So much beauty…so little time.