I’m nearly at the end of an entire year here in this “home” place. My birthday passed gently, uneventfully, and infused with a certain chill bliss that I don’t think I can put into words – but it was everything I wanted for my birthday, and more (in a sense, by being less! lol). There are tomatoes growing in garden pots. Roses planted in the front landscaping, and nasturtiums sprouting in the flower bed under the kitchen window. The quieter environment that resulted from the acoustic treatments has eased so much tension day-to-day. The lighting changes my Traveling Partner made tend to ease my frequent headaches, and lighten my mood. Waking is easier without an alarm clock, and I’m pleased that I can rely on the changing light – a programmed sunrise – to wake me gently. I’m not cross with the world first thing in the mornings. It’s pleasant.
Time passes. Sometimes I notice. Mostly I don’t. It gets away from me. I don’t take that so personally lately. š
Is there still a pandemic going on? Well…sure, there is; the world isn’t even 50% vaccinated yet. I’m okay with continuing to be cautious, personally, although I’m vaccinated myself. I admit; I really like not having a fucking head cold every other month. lol Still… things seem to be improving in our area, and more folks are out and about in the world, doing things, seeing people, shopping. I found myself “stuck in traffic” for the first time in this new community just yesterday.
…Is it still a “new community” if I’m nearly a year into living here? lol It still feels new; it’s been a year of staying home. Pandemics are weird.
I still have “ups and downs”. My Traveling Partner, too; he’s walking his own hard mile, as a human being. (Aren’t we all?) The pandemic was hard on us as lovers, we’re not alone in that experience – and frankly, I’m sure there were a lot of folks who had it much much worse. We’re fortunate that we really enjoy each other as human beings, and we’re friends. It gets us through some challenges, for sure. š I’m pretty fond of that human being living with me.
Here I am… 58. Doesn’t feel much different than, say, 47, or 35, or … yeah, even 27 doesn’t seem that different through the lens of remembered experiences. I feel like the same “self” – which is hilarious, considering how much I’ve changed. Would 27 year old me even like this woman I am now? Would she “get it”? Would she embrace the values I’ve embraced? Would she understand the changes I’ve chosen? The direction I’ve gone in life? Could we talk together as intimate friends about our journey, our choices, our changes? Would there be unresolved anger or “old business” that we’d need to work out? Would we even want to connect as individuals – or is there too much distance and time between us? Would she think me “old” or “out of touch”? Would I see her as young, ignorant, and foolish about taking risks? Are we really “the same person” at all? Probably not, in a great many very important ways, and still also entirely this one human being, living this one peculiarly complicated life, as the years roll by.
So, it’s time to turn the page on another year of living. I’m okay with that. It’s been a strangely eventful year, counting the days from one birthday to the next. Bought a house. Moved. Changed jobs. Discovered new places. Discovered new music. Discovered new depths to this love I share with my Traveling Partner. Healed some old wounds. Re-opened others. Walked new trails. Traveled roads I’d never traveled before. Found “my way” more often than I found myself lost.
I can say, comfortably and without hesitation these days, I like this woman I have become over time. That’s a pretty big deal… it has required quite a few beginnings to get to this place, and I’ve stumbled on my own baggage more times than I can count. It’s gotten to be pretty comfortable to pick myself back up, and simply begin again. It’s not personal; it’s my journey. š It could sure be worse.
My coffee is almost gone, and although my partner is no farther away that the other side of a closed door, I find myself missing him… it must be time to begin again. š
Evening Light 