I slept well, and deeply, and even slept through the night. My coffee is prepared – I haven’t tasted it yet. This morning, like so many mornings, is pleasant and quiet. The morning seems to lack any connection to the stress and weirdness of the night before. That’s pretty pleasant, itself, and represents a significant improvement in outcome. Practice may not make ‘perfect’, but it definitely has the potential to change things; I know to be thoughtful about new practices, mindful of the new outcomes, and careful about attempting to choose wisely what will meet my needs best over time.

Last night it was basic self-care and self-compassion for the win, and I am okay. I was okay last night, before I went to bed. Hell – I was ‘okay’ even while I was crying, really. The emotional moment passed – I knew it would. Nothing so intense is really sustainable. And, as is often the case after the fact, I’m not at all sure now what it was that was actually upsetting me so much. There is no requirement that I have certainty about what may have caused prior tears; deep-diving those details is just asking for more, and it is a process that generally lacks the value it seems it might have…or feels as if is should have. There are other, more effective practices, and certainly there are other, more pleasant, uses of my time on a quiet morning.

Summer berries, summer sky.

Summer berries, summer sky.

So. Here it is morning, again, and another lovely one. I’m content with having made progress such that pleasant mornings are so commonplace. I miss my traveling partner – that’s not uncommon in the mornings, although I also very much value the deep quiet of solitude, greatly; it’s very good for writing. Still…we do well together in the mornings, and I miss having the occasional unexpected quite exceptional latte, made by loving hands. It was my traveling partner who taught me the value of quiet leisurely mornings, so of course I do associate the experience with him, even though it is quite rare that he is up so early, himself. Shared mornings are less common living apart, making them even more precious when they occur.

That’s one element of living alone that I treasure beyond words; the profound way my traveling partner and I are able to make every moment together count. There hasn’t been a single trivial argument – or any argument, actually – and so little stress between us that I can’t recall it at all, since I moved into my own place. We just don’t waste time on negative bullshit, or drama these days. The time we share is limited, precious, and put to the very best use: love and loving. Mortal lives are short – there really is no time to waste on contentious foolishness or game playing. Letting go of that sort of thing has resulted in a life that feels rich, warm, and uplifting most of the time, resulting in an environment that really promotes growth and healing – we are on a shared journey, with shared goals. It isn’t really relevant that we live in different buildings at all. Cohabitation doesn’t dictate the quality of a relationship – and a building isn’t the essence of ‘home.’ You probably already knew this stuff – I’m very much a beginner in the School of Life. (Did you know there actually is a School of Life on the internet? It’s pretty awesome.)

Oh hey…I got distracted by thoughts of love…and sex… lol. Time has passed. The morning begins with smiles and thoughts of love – that’s a good start to the day. There remains time enough to hit ‘publish’, and do a little housework; I love coming home to a well-kept tidy home, and I love waking up to one. Each morning I do some housework to prepare for coming home from work…each evening (often before bed) I do a bit more, so that when I wake I step into a lovely orderly space. This suits me. It is ‘my way’.

Summer flowers.

Summer flowers.

Today is a good day for beginnings, and good practices. Today is a good day to appreciate love and lovers. Today is a good day for gratitude, awakenings, and growth. Today is a good day to heal. Today is enough.