Restless dreams, strange morning. Strange in all the best ways. My Traveling Partner was already awake, when I woke, and invited me to stay and join him for coffee, this morning.
[No AI is used in writing or editing this blog. This is human content for human readers.]
By itself, enjoying coffee with one’s partner is not a strange thing. We don’t do it often (a combination of timing and temperament). It was quite nice to relax over a cup of excellent coffee together. He told me about a project he has started. I asked some questions. Good conversation.
At one point his temper flared up, but he bested it quickly, I didn’t fall apart over it, and the morning continued, rather delightfully. There is real value in giving people room to be, to err, and to grow.
I have been watching my beloved battle his loss of resilience and patience, since his injury (and more so since his surgery), and I am impressed and looking for lessons and practices I can also make use of. He understands his anger better than I do my own. He is my muse, surely, and oddly enough also a role model to me, always has been. We both (each?) have an eye on our tempers. (Maybe that’s just smart approach to human behavior and emotions? Human primates don’t domesticate easily.) I see him recover from a moment of anger and genuinely reset, quickly. He catches himself, takes a moment, and lets it go. Given the emotional space and safety to do so, he regains perspective quickly. I tend to “drink the poison” and seethe for days in an unhealthy way over some pretty small shit. He gives me hope that I can do better, with practice.
…I handle my anger so much more skillfully than I did when my Traveling Partner and I got together, and the memory of his firm, calm voice telling me frankly and simply that my uncontrolled rage was a relationship deal breaker got through to me more than the words of any therapist had. I am so grateful that he gave me the chance to work on it, instead of walking away.
The coffee was delicious. The conversation was interesting. The mood was relaxed. The memory of the morning is quite lovely and I smile as I walk down the trail, recalling various details, and thinking over an observation my beloved made. “You’ve been in your own head a lot.” He said it in a loving way, concerned about me. He’s right about that, too. I walk on, thinking that over.
… Feels like a Friday. It is the ripples of the lovely morning extending across my sense of the day…
Resilience needs practice. So does communication. I reach my halfway point thinking about practices, successes, failures, and beginning again. I breathe, exhale, and relax. This morning, meditation feels easy and my mind feels calm and settled. There is a work day ahead of me. My pain feels managed. I watch white clouds scoot across the black of the night sky. Daybreak soon. I could use more coffee.
The world is what it is, and most of it is not within my sphere of influence in any way. I can do my best, here, now, to live well, to love well, and to be my best self, and thereby do something to improve the world in some tiny way. It matters. Letting all the ills of humanity rest on my shoulders is neither useful nor healthy. It only serves to reduce how much I have to give, closer to home where my actions have real effects. The result isn’t only that I have less to give, I also end up missing out on so many potentially delightful moments because I’m not fully present and anchored in this moment. I reflect on that.
Daybreak comes. A sprinkle of rain starts falling. It’s a good time to begin again.
