Archives for category: Anxiety

What defines something as ‘right’? What makes something ‘enough’? Before we go too far down a philosopher’s rabbit hole, let me clarify – my questions are less about the semantics or meanings of those words relative to other words or ideas, and more about how does an individual determine that some one event, action, outcome, or experience fits the description? I keep bumping my nose on what seems to be an answer – and I admit that I’m not much of a fan of ‘answers’ lately; the questions convey more, for me, most of the time. Still, an answer to one question sometimes forms the basis of other questions just as worthy of consideration… and in this case, the ‘answer’ is kind of a big deal. Perspective. Yep, I am still meditating on perspective. The painting is unfinished, and the contemplation of the work as metaphor, as studious reflection and examination of experience, and as its own creative experience, keep me coming back again and again to life lessons about perspective.  There are those that required perspective to complete, and those that resulted in greater perspective once completed – and depending on my perspective in contemplation, a whole lot of life experiences open themselves up to being viewed as instructive on perspective.  Perspective is a big deal.  It is becoming an iceberg in my studies; so many things turn out to be relevant to matters of perspective.

I started the weekend focused on some pretty specific needs and desires.  I went into it with limited known resources, and an understanding that circumstances and the free will of others would predictably bring a few unknowns to confound any planning.  I try not to notice how little of the weekend remains… It’s been a lovely one.  Perspective has been a big deal for enjoying it.  If I had remained fixed on expectations, or investing heavily in my needs at the expense of a more connected experience, I could have been sitting here unhappily wallowing in discontent. I know, because I’ve done it in the past.

I’ve allowed myself a different experience today by identifying the successes as they happen, and appreciating those, and enjoying them, instead of zeroing in on some specific one thing or experience that I wanted and didn’t get.  I’m still learning a lot about relationships and happiness and intimacy and sharing life and love.  Learning to ‘take care of me’ sometimes feels like a mandate to make demands or insist that my needs must be met.  My own experience with meeting the needs of my loved ones is that I’m not always up to it, or able to with available resources, or may be unwilling to for some reason that seems appropriate or necessary to me in-the-moment; I can safely infer that is also their experience with meeting my needs. lol.  Knowing we are each having our own experience, and each have our own needs to be met, it actually seems pretty inevitable that sometimes some needs are unmet.  That’s how it was this weekend – some needs were met, others were not. Funny thing, it really seems now that the needs that got met were more urgent or more important… or more… worthy… than what I thought I needed to start with. lol.  A lesson in perspective, and also a lesson in ‘going with it’ instead of fussing and trying to force the flow of events.

It’s been a lovely weekend, and incredibly intimate. It wasn’t the intimacy I expected. It was, however, very much the intimacy I needed. 😀

Touch is important to me.  I think it always was, but for most of my life I was really very restrictive about people touching me casually.  My feelings on the matter of touch at that time were, more or less, ‘if we aren’t going to have sex, please don’t touch me’.  How very isolating that was!  I’m in a different place as a person – although, admittedly, I don’t prefer total strangers ‘breaking the contact barrier’ with me, without warning or consent.  I really enjoy being touched, though.  So much baggage, so little time… lol.

I was thinking about touch, and my issues relevant to physical intimacy in general, and it reminded me that I had been considering this very topic just last night in a moment of nostalgia.  I was contemplating a tender point in life’s journey, and learning to Love, when I had finally really begun to welcome touch into my every day experience.  My lover at that time, an amazingly nurturing man of considerable skill with relationship building, had a practice of welcoming me home from work – or the store, or wherever else I had happened to be – with a moment of real connection.  He would put everything down for an embrace, and a moment of connected contact.  There we would be, in each other’s arms, holding each other, feeling the warm of our bodies close together, feeling our heartbeats begin to beat together, and experiencing all the wonders and intangibles of being in the arms of someone we love… and it was every day, every time we reconnected after being apart, and it was… extraordinary.  I began to do it, too… every time he was away from me, and returned, I put everything down and put my attention on him, on us, on now.  It was my first experience of loving mindfully – but I didn’t know it at the time. It’s an amazing thing to experience.

I miss it.

Oh, there’s no lack of affection in my life. I have wonderful loving partners and a good life.  We share mutual affection, and closeness, and as much intimacy as we can make time for… real life sometimes seems to get in the way.  Now I often find myself crying out in the wilderness of my chaos and damage for this something that seems missing… those seemingly infinite moments of connection and intimacy are far more rare now, and kind of hit or miss.  I feel it.  I’m learning enough about love, and loving well, to recognize what I miss. (Hey! That’s real progress for me!)  I guess now I need to learn the words to say ‘I love this. I want this.’ and then go about the business of ‘being the change’… that’s the harder part; making it a verb, an action, a reality.  Being the change.  How do I build something I don’t understand? Life’s curriculum apparently gets more challenging as I progress through the lesson plan.  🙂

I do want to say something more… if you have this level of intimacy and connection with your friends and lovers and partners – any or all of them – cherish it! Nurture it! Value it above all things, because taking it for granted can result in a loss that feels…well, it’s very similar for me to grieving the loss of someone dear to me, actually.  The sense of ‘being without it’ is hard to overstate.

Today, I will learn something more about being intimate, and fostering intimacy in my relationships.

Labor Day is past, and with it any recognition of the value of labor, perspective about work and employment, and respect for working class people in general. lol. Well, perhaps not, but it sometimes seems that way.  Living in a world where there is even room to argue about whether there ought to be a ‘minimum’ wage in the first place drives home a pretty clear message that people have a dollar value, and that perhaps it ought to be much lower… which is strangely consistent with the message that it is cheaper to slaughter them wholesale in faraway lands than it is to offer them employment.  We’re strange creatures, human primates.

Why am I even considering the plight of the working class right now? It’s Monday morning. lol. I am preparing to go to work. I don’t write much about work, or working, and certainly the details of my employment are largely pretty irrelevant to questions of ‘who am I?’ or ‘how can I be a better person?’.  What got my attention this morning was actually a Facebook post from a friend commenting on the high percentage of young people eager to retire before their careers even develop.  I’m not really surprised by that.  Personally, I’m generally quite surprised when people don’t seem to be eager to retire at all.  I’m also surprised by low-wage workers who, instead of railing against the low wages, fight to work more hours – as though the thought that the pay itself is what is out of whack doesn’t occur to them… as though they don’t realize they are worth more money.  I’m sure a lot of business owners, large and small, would like to pay less for labor than they do now… but my perspective (and reading) tend to support that the vast majority of workers are grossly underpaid as it is – to the very large benefit of very few people.

I’m not hopping on my soapbox this morning, it’s just an observation about my bemusement that we value ourselves, and our place in the world, so poorly as a general state of things.  Me, I’d love to retire. I’d retire tomorrow and make way for someone younger, faster, hungrier for glory… I would step aside right now, no hard feelings, if I knew I could support my family on my retirement income.  I have plenty to do – writing, painting, developing relationships, being.  (Employment, for me, has never been more than a path to have the resources to do these things, anyway.  There is no value in employed labor whatsoever, for the employed individual, beyond the conversion of labor to spendable dollars.  We’ve been deceived if we think there is.  The only exception is when we employ ourselves to build, make, create, explore, develop, or offer to the world something really new, otherwise, it’s just a job. lol. )

It’s Monday morning, after a very good weekend. I’d rather wake up, have my latte, and paint all day, or write, or walk, or have sex, or talk to friends, or shop… but I will head in to the office, soon, to do things for other people, that in the grander scheme of things are pretty… unimportant.  It’s how I pay for the next lovely weekend, and the next one after that, on into the holidays, and vacations to come.  I’d retire tomorrow if I could afford to.  I have so much I want to do… and so little time for me.

Happy Monday!  🙂

It’s been a lovely evening after an interesting day.  It’s been a day of ordinary pleasures and extraordinary love.  Good lattes, great conversations with people I love, moments of delight and respect, moments of wonder, moments of excitement, even a moment or two of complicated emotions I don’t really have words for at all.  Now, night has fallen. The household is quiet. Ahead of me, a few moments taking care of me; meditation, yoga, a shower, and some unmeasured time gazing at my aquarium before I sleep.  There is really no need to look back to see what is behind me, not right now. Now is simply…this quiet place, this quiet time.  I am not always this aware of how little assurance there really is of having one such beautiful moment of peace and contentment. I am aware, for now, how unwise it is to count on having this moment – or any one moment – of such specific pleasure.

Still… and it is ‘still’ right now… Still, this moment is this peaceful, and I am content. Quite content. It’s very nice. I’d be happy to feel this way a lot more than I generally do.  I’m here right now, though, and I am enjoying it for what it is, without reservation.

There are so many small delights in this brief moment… the laptop… the MC Frontalot t-shirt… the knowledge  that so many people who matter so much to me are only as far away as this keyboard, and their own. In that sense, we’re almost touching… I hear the rain coming down again, and the cat creeping across the roof… and quiet.

Shhh… Here comes the future…

Life is actually like that, most of the time, isn’t it? “Without warning”, I mean.

I woke during the night to the sound of a partner’s voice in the dark…something about thunder and lightning and unplugging things.  It made sense to me, wrapped in the surreal world of sleep and dreams, and although I wasn’t sure in-the-moment quite where/when I was… all seemed well with the world.  I remembered my father unplugging things during thunderstorms.  I did feel a vague moment of envy as sleep sucked me back into the land of dreams… thunderstorms are not common here, and I rather like their wild fury and drama.  The nearby rumbling of thunder, real thunder, was the last thing on my mind as I returned to sleep.

morning sky

morning sky

I woke to sodden gray skies, heavy folds of clouds as the dawn broke seeming to promise more rain soon.  My coffee sucks this morning. The beans are from a bag that didn’t get dated, and did get… old.  Beans from July seem ‘vintage’ by September, and really not very good. lol.  The resulting coffee (I assure you it does not qualify as ‘espresso’) is strong, a bit bitter, and although considerably better than fondly remembered cups of military coffee in another time and place… it still sucks. lol.  It’s not a big deal, I’m pretty adaptable as beings go.

I contemplate, for the moment, that handy quality about myself, adaptability.  I didn’t always recognize it in myself.  I didn’t always understand what a tremendous strength it is.  I struggle with being spontaneous – I’m more of a planner – but when things break down, go awry, drift off plan, or simply turn out differently, I generally do pretty well in spite of my desire to plan – because I adapt easily.  The down side of adaptability is that I sometimes forget to mention to others that something is broken or not working as it ought to… because I am simply working around that!  An example of what I mean would be a laptop I had for work years ago; the keyboard was not sufficiently robust for me, and keys would pop off regularly and the IT guys would glue them back on, or whatever it took to fix them. It was a regular thing.  Eventually, the ‘o’ key popped off in a more permanent way… it was some time before I did anything much about it, because I had quickly learned to type using language with fewer ‘o’s (yes, yes I did. lol) as well as slightly changing my keyboarding style so that an ‘o’ resulted in a very specific key strike that hit a very specific spot on the missing key’s location.  It slowed down my typing a bit, but was more nuisance than impediment.

This post is pretty irrelevant.  Frankly, this morning I am simply enjoying some quiet. Watching day break through the window with this unsatisfying cup of coffee, and ‘getting my head right’ for the work week.  Usually after a long weekend, I’m a wreck, frantically wanting to get back to work and stressing weird details that don’t actually matter – like ‘that one thing I said the other day’ to someone relevant to something, that by the start of a new week has developed into a tiny demon all its own, named ‘you’ll probably get fired for that one!’  It’s an illusion, I know, since it generally turns out to be something no one else remembered at all.   This morning is different.  I am content after a weekend well-spent.  We wrapped it up yesterday quite pleasantly, watching movies together, laughing, and enjoying the easy familiarity of chilling with family at home.

A pleasant long weekend – without warning.   It doesn’t really ‘look quite right’ to see ‘without warning’ at the end of a comment about something nice, does it? Still, pleasant days are just as likely to come up unheralded, without a calendar entry, no RSVP necessary – aren’t they? Far more likely, as I consider my own experience, to have some bit of warning ahead of something really bad – like ‘duck!’ or ‘take cover!’ or ‘we’ll talk about this later’.  Awesome stuff, and nice days, usually just happen in my experience.  That got me thinking about how often I may get in my own way of having a great day – by giving myself an unnecessary warning about imminent danger – that isn’t really there.  Small stuff like those quiet internal reminders about someone who is grumpy in the morning… does it cause me to see them as being grumpy in the morning when they aren’t being grumpy, too, because I have warned myself?  Something to contemplate on the walk to work – expectations, early warning systems, and setting myself up for failure by preparing for the worst, and failing to be open to the best.

It’s a lovely Tuesday morning after a stormy Monday night.  Heavy gray clouds that threaten rain, also promise a cooler day, don’t they? 😀  Today I will go forth into the world without expectations, and without warning.  ;-D