Archives for the month of: August, 2018

I’ve got things to do, busy Saturday ahead, and I expected to rush out without a word. I dislike rushing. Chose to go ahead and enjoy my morning coffee. I don’t have much to say, though. It’s just me, a coffee, some thoughts. 🙂

Today begins with a plan. Beginning again? Today I’ve already begun. 😉

A moment, a flower. Taking time for what matters most.

There’s always tomorrow… 😀

I woke this morning both puzzled and amused. I don’t remember my dreams, and wonder for some minutes what they were about to result in waking with such a feeling. There was a phrase stuck in my head, my only clue, “illusions of permanence”. I am grateful that I woke feeling some amusement, recognizing that phrasing such as that could easily be associated with some far more negative experience.

My coffee is cold and tasty. My consciousness is still not quite entirely awake. The morning is quiet. I sit for a moment, taking it in.

A bit more than a year ago, I moved in here. A year ago, about, my Traveling Partner gave me his car to use, rather than have me continue my practice of using public transit. Longer ago than one year, my life was quite different. I had a different view, different neighbors, a different commute, a different routine, and even a different experience of life. Things change. Even when I’m not making a point to choose change, sometimes change chooses me. There doesn’t really seem to be an option not to choose change, or to choose not to experience change. Change is. Impermanence is. Those are sort of non-negotiables in life. We can, however, choose whether to become very attached, or to let go of attachment. We can choose whether or not to surf the waves of change, or be overwhelmed by them.

We do have choices. Our choices are not always what we recognize them to be.

I continue to sip my coffee and contemplate change. This is a lovely moment right here, right now. It, too, will pass. The next moment may or may not be so entirely characterized by contentment. It would be rather foolhardy to expect each moment that follows to be similarly filled with contentment. Sooner or later… there’d be a wholly different sort of moment. Change is. I try not to cling. 🙂

The morning feels pretty good. I decide on a second coffee, and to wrap this up still smiling, ready to move on with the day, from this moment, and on to the next – whatever it holds. I mean, seriously? I can begin again, any time. 🙂

Sipping my coffee and thinking about all the many things I’ve tried out over the years, qualities I have explored, places I have seen, styles enjoyed, projects undertaken, seems like a lot of variety – whole lifetimes of change. A lot of what I have been, I am not now. A lot of what I have done, I no longer do today. I’ve picked up skills, and built practice, that have since fallen into disuse… I give a moment of thought to the things that have mattered most (not all of which I pursued beyond the past moment in which they existed). I think of how all of this contributes to who I am, now.

…Hell of an interesting and varied journey… certainly worth giving a moment of thought to. I put on some music. I get a second coffee. I look around the studio, half-finished canvases… just everywhere. lol This back and forth stuff between here and there every weekend takes a creative toll. For the moment I satisfy myself thinking about the not-too-distant future that is (hopefully) retirement. My life is, I am hopeful, barely half over. 🙂

Try things. It’s okay if you don’t “stick with it” endlessly forever. Learn new things, try new stuff, make things, do things, learn things – there isn’t anything “wrong” with taking something up, learning a bit about it, moving on to the next interesting thing. Oh, I know, there’s a ferocious culture of “don’t quit” and “you never finish anything” lingering about to discourage shallow interest, and changes of heart – and that literally does not have to matter at all. Interested in the sound of Mandarin Chinese as a language? Start learning it. Lose interest in things that are hard? It’s okay; languages can be quite difficult, and maybe you give up on that – you are still changed by what you have learned. Expose yourself to the world of options and opportunities that exists. Become more than you are.

Become more than you are. Be the person you most want to be – whoever that is. 🙂

It’s not too late.

Begin again. 🙂

 

The quality of the sleep I am getting seems good. I’m not waking during the night. I’m getting to bed at an hour that results in no less than 7 hours of sleep, which I seem to be getting. I’m consuming carefully measured quantities of caffeine, and limiting that to early in the day. I mentally run down the list of carefully selected good sleep hygiene practices that I rely on to get the most out of my resting hours…

…Regardless of all that, I am particularly groggy upon waking to the alarm these last couple work days. My body feels rested. My brain feels unready for the new day. I’m doing my best to properly wake up, to be thoughtful, coherent, ready for the day. So far this is more an exercise in effort than any sort of effective achievement.

A moment in the garden on a summer evening.

I sip my coffee and contemplate the summer heat. The garden isn’t as lush as I’d like it to be. Summer heat. I’m often away all weekend. The time taken to water during the week, before work, and again in the evening as the heat slowly begins to fade to cooler night-time temperatures, really makes a difference when I’m not at home to do it on weekends. This past weekend many of the roses bloomed in what seems a rather early second blossoming of loveliness and fragrance. I take a moment to feel grateful to have gotten to see it.

This year, just one flower.

Peeking out from the summer foliage, a single flower blooms on Nozomi, a delicate miniature rose that is a long-time favorite that I’ve had since… 1993? This year she’s only bloomed this once; she is usually among the most prolific bloomers among my roses. I make a mental note to re-pot her this winter.

“Feeling overwhelmed” is an experience fairly common to being human. Seems more common these days, for more people, although I’d begun to experience it much less myself. Starting in November, 2016, it has become, once again, plenty common for me, as well. “It’s all just too much” is the feeling. I give myself a little internal moment of real understanding, because, as feelings go, the most appropriate response to the feeling of “it’s all just too much” is simply “yes, yes it is” followed by “we’ll get through this, together”. A deep breath. A sigh. I move on from the moment; every moment passes.

I think over an interaction with a friend from earlier this week. She was feeling overwhelmed to the point of tears. “It’s all just too much!” A moment of sympathy and support rather quickly became quiet frustration and puzzlement, as it became apparent that she was investing in her feeling of being overwhelmed by building that and growing it, rather than sorting it out and easing her own suffering. Attempts to support and help her weren’t seeming either supportive or helpful, as she quickly interrupted anything helpful, soothing, or perspective-offering, (that could have just as easily been used to calm herself) to reinforce her self-inflicted, home-grown, utterly subjective internal experience with quick contradictions, veering tangents, and distractingly vague exclamations of distress. She quickly shored up her powerfully negative narrative each time I attempted to bring clarity or calm to the shared moment together. So frustrating. Eventually, the time-sensitive nature of schedules and calendars intervened. I went on with my day. She went on with her tears. I am still puzzled at the whole thing; it’s hard to fathom someone not actually accepting the help and support they’ve sought out. I still just don’t get it.

…I don’t have to “get it” – a lot of what is going on just isn’t at all about me. Not my circus. Not my monkeys. That’s not only okay, it’s necessary; I can’t shoulder the burden of all the world’s chaos and damage alone. I manage my piece as skillfully as I am able. I try not to add to the pile. 😉

Still groggy, I check the time. Well, damn. It’s already that time again. I hit that metaphorical reset button, look out the window into a pre-dawn sky that reminds me summer will end, and likely sooner than I expect. It’s a good opportunity to begin again. 🙂