Archives for category: Allegories

Raindrops and Coffee

September 15, 2019 //

I woke to the sound of rain. It’s the sort of steady rain of well-separated medium-sized raindrops that keeps the pavement looking soaked, and the air smelling fresh, without every becoming a downpour. I made coffee, standing at the kitchen window, staring out past the driveway to the street beyond, not really watching the cars go by, still half-wrapped in sleep, not quite awake, yet. I’d considered sitting down and reading some news articles while I waited for water to boil (I like a “pour over” in the morning)… decided it against it, after glancing at headlines. I am not ready for the cesspool that is “newsworthy” humanity, before my coffee. lol

California was more or less “as advertised”, generally in a pleasant way.

I got home far more easily, with fewer moments of stress, and a much more enjoyable (quiet) flight. I wondered later if time of day was something to have considered when I made the plans (the unpleasant flight to LAX was late afternoon, getting me there by 6:30 pm, the flight home to PDX departed from LAX at close to 8:00 pm, and we did not land until well-past 10:00 pm)? There were no chatterboxes or fussy children on the flight home; it was filled with quieter people, traveling purposefully, and keeping to themselves. I chuckle to myself as I read back these past couple of sentences; how much of my experience was actually just… me? Something to consider, too.

I missed my roses while I was away.

My homecoming was pleasant, relaxed, easy; we missed each other, we welcome each other with open arms, and smiles, with appreciation, and gratitude. Friday was very busy, and I’d forgotten to grab the power cord for my laptop when I returned to the hotel Thursday evening. The low battery, and the need to pack with care before work that morning, resulted in letting go my usual “best time” to write. Yesterday? Yesterday was mine to cherish, a sweet day of leisure and romance with my Traveling Partner, time to catch up, time to enjoy each other, time to spend together. I didn’t write, yesterday, because it is most definitely a solitary activity that takes my presence away from my partner’s experience, and on a day we choose for deliberately enjoying each other, sharing our time, our love, and our presence, that would be sort of rude, wouldn’t it? 🙂

…It feels like life is settling into a useful cadence of work and life and love, as the months together go by. Was it January he moved in with me? Or December, before the Yule holidays? I don’t remember now; it feels as if we’ve never been separated by different addresses, at all. 🙂

I arrived home to a lovely, tidy, welcoming, orderly, aesthetically pleasing home that very much looks like I live here. That makes sense – I do. 😀 I very much appreciate that I have my partners help with all the housekeeping and household maintenance – it makes for a wonderful shared experience. I notice a few things that are “better than I left it”, and remind myself to level up to better household care, on those tasks, myself. When everyone works, and the work is shared such that each person is valued, the quantity of work is equitable, and the effort is reciprocal, there is no room for resentment, or hurt feelings, over housework. 😀

Signs of autumn approaching begin to turn up in the garden on the deck…and also, a baby praying mantis or two, that have survived long enough to be easily noticed.

Another lovely day begins right here, listening to the rain fall. I feel like walking, although my arthritis flared up with the coming of the rain. I consider the day ahead… visit a nearby farmer’s market… run an errand or two, perhaps… get ready for the work week ahead… It’s an ordinary enough Sunday, pleasant, and relaxed. These are the qualities I am choosing, and choosing to foster, to build, to nurture, to act upon. Beginning again is a willful thing, a considered, deliberate reset, not merely the tick of a clock from one moment to the next; there are choices to make, and verbs to act upon. 🙂 My results may vary…

…None of that stops me; it’s still time to begin again. 🙂

Tags another pleasant valley sunday, are you going my way?, be here now, be love, be present, begin again, choose wisely, emotional self sufficiency, good self-care, LAX to PDX, leaving LA, MBSR, meditation, mindfulness matters, pack what you need, perspective, practicing the practices, Praying Mantis, ptsd, Purple Tiger, raindrops on roses, relationships, remember you've got to haul that baggage around with you, sufficiency, TBI, The Art of Being, The Big 5, the journey is the destination, the map is not the world, the return trip was better, there are verbs involved, walking my own path, we become what we practice, what matters most?

Categories Allegories, Brain Injury, Free Will, gardening, gratitude, Healthy Living, Love, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, pain, Parables, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, Roses, Summer, The Art of Being, The Big 5

1, 2, 3, Breathe

September 12, 2019 //

I woke to the alarm, switched it off, and lay quietly for some time, eyes open, lingering in that place between waking from a deep slumber, and truly being “awake”. It feels luxurious to be so deeply well-rested. Savoring that moment of unfolding realization that, indeed, I am “well-rested” this morning was so worth the time (and risk of falling back to sleep). 🙂 The hotel in-room drip coffee tastes delicious this morning; it is flavored with contentment, and a sense of satisfaction. No idea why this particular morning feels so good, but I’m not going to argue with it.

LA dawn, poolside breakfast.

…I’m looking forward to breakfast. It was a very good start to my day, yesterday…

Considering the stress involved in my arrival, on Tuesday evening, this has been a remarkably pleasant and productive trip so far. My time feels well-spent. I feel valued and appreciated by colleagues. I’m getting things done that I’d felt were needful, and that feels very satisfying.

LA, itself, is a strange place to find myself. lol It has a polished weirdness and vaguely persistent feeling of artifice that is hard to “see through”. Yesterday morning, I watched a woman twirling on her balcony… which seemed even more peculiar when it became clear it was part of her morning workout. On my way to work, I walked past a tv show being made, which only heightened the sense of artifice that seems to permeate this area of the city. Maybe it isn’t this way everywhere in LA? Even the homeless people, at least in this particular neighborhood, seem to take their lives to the level of “craft”; their pitches are fairly similar to the approach a carnie might take, trying to bring passers-by to their schtick, before packing up and moving on to the next city. It rises to the level of performance art… definitely weird. People in the office discussed the latest “cleanse”, and seemed to be fairly serious about it. I managed not to smirk at anyone over these details; people choose the lives they live, and it’s not really for me to choose for anyone else. My teal-blue-aqua hair got more stares in LA than it ever does in Portland, which struck me as seriously humorous. However seriously silly LA sometimes strikes me, Portland is also fairly weird, and we’ve all got more in common with each other than we often care to notice. LA is, most assuredly, more… tan. lol

By the end of the day, I was surprisingly exhausted. Grand plans of walking to the marina or catching the sunset on the beach, or hanging out with local friends, or doing, really, anything at all not work-related, quickly gave way to a newly ambitious plan; having an adequate, healthy, meal, and going to bed. LOL 🙂 LA… you win. I can’t keep up. 😉

I got back to the room, put the phone on the charger and lay down “for a minute”, which became a couple hours. I got up, grabbed a bite of dinner, and returned to the room, feet aching. I took the time I needed for self-care: time in the hotel gym, a shower, meditation. I felt rested, at ease, and comfortable with myself. I thought about the contrast with my Las Vegas trip, a couple years ago, for a work conference. The self-care really matters. I exchanged a few words with my Traveling Partner – who is at home, while I travel – and read awhile, before sleep caught up with me, for real. It was a lovely day, overall. 🙂

…Here it is, time to begin again. Half an hour before breakfast will be served in the hotel restaurant. Another hour before I head to the office for another work day. I give thought to the plan for the day, and work ahead of me. I check the calendar and remind myself what day of the week it actually is (Thursday, as it happens). I contemplate making the world a better place, and what that really means – and requires. I think about narrowing that down to the work pieces, and how best to craft, nurture, and maintain a truly exceptional (and good) place to work. I sip my coffee. The day, so far, is off to a good start.

My thoughts touch on love and loving, and suddenly I feel a deep yearning ache, and I’m swamped by a moment of loneliness – I miss my partner. The words form in my thoughts, and bring tears to my eyes unexpectedly. I take deep, even, breaths, and soothe myself; it’s a short time away, really, and I’ll be home tomorrow evening. I finish my coffee, and dry my tears; it’s already time to begin again. 🙂

Tags be here now, be love, begin again, breathe, emotional self sufficiency, good self-care, LA is weird, listening deeply, MBSR, OPD, perspective, pilotas and fruit stands, practicing the practices, ptsd, relationships, sufficiency, taking care of me, TBI, The Art of Being, the map is not the world, walk on, walking in LA, walking my own path, we become what we practice, what matters most?

Categories Allegories, Brain Injury, Free Will, gratitude, Healthy Living, loneliness, Love, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, Summer, The Art of Being, The Big 5

Reading Proust

September 7, 2019 //

I’m sipping my coffee and trying to recall where I left off, last time I picked up Proust. I’ve never finished “In Search of Lost Time” (also published as “Remembrance of Things Past”). I’ve made progress. Started it a number of times. Enjoyed the bit of it that I’ve read; it lingers in my consciousness. This morning, though, I don’t recall where I’ve left off, and find myself contemplating starting it entirely over. 🙂

It’s a gray Saturday morning, a bit muggy. We had thunder and lightening on the horizon yesterday, before dawn. There is rain in the forecast for later today. My hair is blue. LOL These details don’t contribute much to each other… I’ve only just awakened from a heavy uncomfortable sleep, waking with a stuffy head, and when I woke I had forgotten about getting my hair colored. My reflection in the mirror startled, then puzzled me, until I remembered an honestly unforgettable 8 fucking hours in the salon chair. omg. So much time. lol

…My hair looks great, lustrous shades of teal, cobalt, aqua, and electric blue. I’m eager to see it in the sunshine. I’m eager to see the startled wide-eyed gaze of a child who, for a moment, wonders if blue hair is “real”. 🙂 It looks “real”, with the shades and variations, and tousled from sleep.

I arrived home to so much done around the house, and garage. Wow. Oh. And a list. My Traveling Partner left me a very short “to do list” of a couple things he’d asked if I would take care of, previously, which I had managed not to get to… so… convenient reminder, right there with the mail. lol I guess my Saturday plans are covered! (Note to self; don’t say yes to something you’re not prepared to be reminded to do…or…here’s a thought; fucking do it. You said you would.)

My coffee is good. The morning is a relaxed one. Somehow, already time to begin again. 🙂

Tags be the change, begin again, choose wisely, do what you promised, emotional self sufficiency, good self-care, love, love and lovers, p.s. I love you, perspective, practicing the practices, ptsd, relationships, taking care of me, TBI, The Art of Being, The Big 5, there are verbs involved, we become what we practice, what matters most?

Categories Allegories, Brain Injury, Free Will, gratitude, Healthy Living, Love, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Parables, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, Summer, The Art of Being, The Big 5

The Clock Keeps Ticking

September 6, 2019 //

Sipping my coffee this morning, thinking about time. No particular reason, and thinking about it doesn’t have any notable effect on time, itself. Random bits of consciousness are sort of just… milling around bumping into each other this morning. I take a breathe. The AC comes on. My thoughts move along to other things.

Life’s mundanities sort of take over my awareness for a little while, as I sit with my coffee in the stillness of morning. A hair appointment (time to get the color refreshed)… A business trip (I get to do these now??? wow!)… A painting I notice I haven’t signed (not my first)… The work day ahead of me (it can wait)… The weekend that follows (just in time!)… Bills that need paying (seriously routine stuff)… I think “nothing to see here” and sort of nudge myself along a different path. 🙂

I take a few minutes for myself, still, quiet, reflective.

Life feels good right now. I savor this moment, present, and aware. This, too, shall pass; that’s just real. I take time to properly enjoy it, content with it just as it is. 🙂 It’s enough.

…All that, and a good cup of coffee. It’s time to begin again. 😉

Tags be here now, be the change, begin again, being and becoming, breathe, choose wisely, emotional self sufficiency, enough is enough, good self-care, I am my own cartographer, lasting contentment takes practice, meditation, mindfulness, mindfulness matters, perspective, practicing the practices, ptsd, sufficiency, TBI, The Art of Being, The Big 5, there are verbs involved, we become what we practice, what are you practicing?, what matters most?

Categories Allegories, Brain Injury, Free Will, gratitude, Healthy Living, Love, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, Summer, The Art of Being, The Big 5

That Bad Taste in My Mouth

September 4, 2019 //

This morning, my coffee “leaves me with a bad taste in my mouth” in a fairly literal way. I’m not sure what I did to ruin a perfectly adequate cup of coffee this morning… good coffee beans, the usual process… Regardless; this is one dreadful cup of coffee. I sip on it anyway, reluctant to wake my Traveling Partner, asleep in the other room. It was noisy enough making just one cup of coffee. Honestly, it’s not that bad – call it “drink-ably terrible”. lol

I woke from what seemed a sound sleep, smack in the middle of dreams of reality, sufficiently plausible that I was surprised to discover myself awaking to the alarm clock. (oh, blech, this coffee!! LOL) The morning has been thoroughly routine, and soon I’ll leave the house, begin the work day, work through that, return home in commuter traffic, relax with my partner for the evening, crash out seemingly too early (it always seems “too early”), sleep more or less through the night, then repeat that for what unexpectedly seems like … a lifetime. There have been years when I’ve felt the experience to be a brutal grind, and my life filled up with petty resentments, other years (like this one) in all practical respects, it simple feels necessary, entirely practical, and if a bit tedious at times, there’s nonetheless no resentment to it. It works – for me, for us, for living life, just generally.

Yesterday I added some work tools to my personal device in preparation for my trip to “the home office”, which will be next week. A plane flight away, to “a far away city”, and I admit I face it more eagerly than not. I enjoy this job, and feel appreciated, purposeful, and prepared. My Traveling Partner doesn’t do things to hold me back or discourage me; it is a healthy partnership. I feel supported. I sip my coffee, and ask myself an important question: am I providing adequate reciprocity with regard to work, to life, and to ensuring I encourage my partner, and nurture my partnership? It would be a poor choice to nurture my career, while leaving love to whither. I’m not that woman, as I understand myself… So, I take time to consider my words, my actions, and how I prepare for this couple of days away. It matters so much to ensure Love itself is treated with consideration and high regard. What could matter more? 🙂

Staying on the path is a choice, and there are verbs involved; the journey is the destination.

My brain attacks me briefly over a perceived “funny vibe” I thought perhaps I may have picked up on, briefly, last night. It’s not a very effective attack, and I grin at myself over my coffee. Questions work. 🙂 Like a beam of light shining into a shadowy corner, a non-confrontational question seeking clarification on an assumption, a subjective experience, something vague and unconfirmed becomes… just an answered question. lol Most of the uncomfortable weirdness in life and in love are “shit we made up” that only exists in our heads – until our own anxiety and stress causes us to make it real. 🙂

I continue to sip my dreadful coffee – really let myself down on this one – and allow myself to briefly consider uncomfortable moments and “funny vibes” that have occurred in various interactions with an assortment of other human beings, and then let each one go. I breathe, exhale, and relax. No need to make up imagined stressors – real life will make sure I get a fair share of real stress, no problem. LOL

Life is not about perfection – and imperfect things are often quite lovely.

I sip my coffee thinking about sky reflected in water. No reason, it just seems something lovely to contemplate. I consider small lovely moments, and recent achievements, and brief unexpectedly deep connections, and enduring love. Love matters so much, on this whole other level. It still feels unsettling and a bit strange that it had to begin with me – with the woman in the mirror. I struggled to find real security in relationships while I struggled to “love myself”, and once I sorted that bit out reasonably well, it seemed to strengthen other relationships, most particularly my relationship with my Traveling Partner.

…Funny… I’m the one traveling in the world, this time…

…Omg, this coffee is just the fucking worst. LOL

I finish off my coffee, grateful to have it, grateful to finish it, and still thinking about how to deepen and nurture love. Love matters most. 🙂

It’s time to begin again, right here, with the love I know. 😀

Tags a student of love, a thank you note to love, be love, begin again, breathe, caring for love, consideration, don't make love do all the work, emotional self sufficiency, listening deeply, love and loving, love matters most, mindful loving, p.s. I love you, perspective, practicing the practices, ptsd, relationships, The Art of Being, The Big 5, there are verbs involved, we become what we practice, what matters most?

Raindrops and Coffee

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1, 2, 3, Breathe

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Reading Proust

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The Clock Keeps Ticking

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That Bad Taste in My Mouth

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