Archives for category: art and the artist

Wow. What an amazing thing progress and growth can be. I overslept. Again. It’s not a big deal; I get up much earlier than my work schedule requires, carving out some time for me from among the quiet hours before dawn. No panic. No stress. No sky-rocketing blood pressure as I try to race through the essentials of the morning routine to ensure I still arrive at work on time. None of that. My lovely at-home partner called at a merry “Good morning!” as she headed down the hall. I woke, with a laugh and a groggy good morning back. I assumed I had forgotten my alarm. I simply went ahead and got up, taking the smile that remained of the laugh right along with me. It’s a lovely morning.

I’m appreciate of the additional sleep; I struggle with sleep disorders and insomnia. Beyond that, I appreciate how far I’ve come that a bit over oversleeping no longer launches me into overdrive, creating a level of panic and stress that will ride my ass hard all day long and leave me exhausted on the other side, cross, resentful, and generally with a nasty headache, and a worse temper.  It was my traveling partner who suggested (years ago) that I slow things down in the morning to eliminate that concern. I didn’t really buy into it at the time, but gave it a shot. It helped right away, and has been my practice ever since – but this? This morning right here? This is a real victory, because I am relaxed, still enjoying my morning, still taking care of me. Even if I choose to go into work a little later as a result, this works because I feel content, balanced, and rested. The value of rest, in my experience, can’t be overstated.

I’ve overslept twice in a month, though. It’s incredibly rare, and doesn’t feel ‘like me’. The last time was pure exhaustion, as I recall, and a short night. This morning I woke feeling sure I must have forgotten to set the alarm, but looking at it now I see that is not the case. This is how my wee alarm clock lets me know a battery change is due. Usually, that happens when I’m already awake, and simply notice it isn’t going off at the time it should be, when that time comes, and I’m sitting here noticing both the time and the lack of beeping. lol

A lesson learned, a successful application of new skills, a lovely day.

Yesterday was a lovely day, too.

Yesterday I felt restless all afternoon, my consciousness racing ahead of the moment eagerly wanting to get home to… paint.  I have already ‘moved in’ to the loft with my paints, canvas, easel, pens, paper, and inspiration. This is my first living arrangement with full-time painting space, and I spent a portion of the evening painting after work. It was lovely to just go to my easel, and have everything at the ready. The satisfaction and delight in being able to simply pick up a brush, and paint, and walk away to do something else without 2 hours of tearing it all down and cleaning up to ‘get the mess out of the way’ is indescribable. My partner seemed pleased that I chose to paint, and got some pictures and video. The whole thing feels like joy and wonder and… ‘just right’. I neglected my needs in this area far too long. I chose, again and again, move after move, relationship after relationship, to compromise on creative space such that I just didn’t have any. I made it my lowest priority. I made me my lowest priority. Fuck, it’s no wonder I’ve spent so much time mired in chaos and damage; I didn’t take the time I needed to work on it. I didn’t make my needs a non-negotiable priority for myself.

Even at 51, it’s never too late for a course correction, for a change of heart, for a new way. It’s never too late to choose to treat myself well.

Like summer flowers, our opportunities are not forever; like gardening, our efforts make room for more opportunities.

Like summer flowers, our opportunities are not forever; like gardening, our efforts make room for more opportunities.

This has been a wonderful week. I’ve enjoyed the closeness with my at-home partner. I miss my traveling partner, and I’m eager to welcome him home this weekend, for some longer time. Right now, in this moment, I feel content, I feel loved, and I feel supported and nurtured. It’s lovely. It may not last forever – in fact, based on experience, it likely won’t – but this is my experience now, and now is very good.  Now is enough.

“Enough”? Enough, indeed. I even have enough time this morning. I overslept, and still have enough time for an iced coffee, meditation, yoga, all the usual hygiene and grooming stuff…enough time for gratitude, enough time for love.

There's always time enough for love.

There’s always time enough for love.

I hurt this morning. It’s ‘just arthritis’, and my spine aches, and I’m stiff even after this morning’s predawn yoga. It’s not new. Hell, it doesn’t even get in the way of a good time, generally. I feel it, however, and it intruded on my meditation more than once. Some of you are likely in pain, too. It sorts of goes with the whole ‘human experience’ package; this is a relatively fragile vessel, prone to injuries that accrue damage over time.  As excited as I am by how much the yoga and meditation do help…I still need additional pain relief to be comfortable much of the time. Taking pain killers comes with risks of its own, and even the Rx pain-killer I take doesn’t eliminate pain. I’m probably grateful for that, actually; how much damage could I do myself entirely by accident if I could not feel any pain?

Pain tells me something about my experience – both right  now, and the experience I have had over time.  Pain tells me something about how I am taking care of myself, and it tells me when there is more that needs to be done.

What pain is not, is ‘everything’, although it can certainly feel like ‘everything’ sometimes. Today isn’t that, I’m just thinking about pain in this moment, and feeling compassion for the myself regarding the pain I am in, and how it limits me (or how I choose to allow it to limit me), and I am thinking about the pain you may be in as well. Your pain also matters. Whether physical or emotional, the pain any one of us is experiencing in the moment may not be ‘everything’ – but it colors our experience, and may influence how we interact with, or perceive, others.  It’s so easy to get from ‘I hurt right now’ to ‘someone must pay for this bullshit!’ and find myself treating someone else poorly, because I hurt.  As I prepare to head into the world today I contemplate that and consider the pain other people are in, and hope that the effort to be mindful that we’re each having our own experience, and that for each of us the pain we are in, ourselves, is the pain we feel the most will keep me on track to treat myself and others with compassion and consideration – in spite of my pain. [That was a long and awkward sentence, my bad. Please read it again if you need to, before we move on…]

There’s not really more to say about pain. I’ve got mine. You’ve got yours. We’re all in this together. We’re each having our own experience. I’ll head out and do my best not to be unpleasant with people, and chances are you will to. If we should chance to meet, I hope it is pleasant for both of us, in spite of our pain. 🙂

"The Stillness Within" 8" x 10" acrylic on canvas with glow.

“The Stillness Within” 8″ x 10″ acrylic on canvas with glow.

I had a wonderfully intimate connected evening with my at-home partner last night – and that, too, in spite of my pain. We had dinner, and did a small bit of fun decorating, a little shopping, and something new. After we did yoga together, we also took time to meditate together. I am fairly shy about that, honestly; it feels very intimate on a level I lack language for, and it was wonderfully connected and calm and loving and… I definitely want to do that again. I’m not a yoga instructor; I practice because it works for me, helps me stay flexible, touches something in my heart, and helps me build emotional resilience, and recover a beautiful shape as I lose weight. I don’t think any of that means I have what it takes to go around teaching people something. My at-home partner really prefers to practice yoga with someone, rather than alone, and expressed some frustration with her lack of flexibility. Practicing together gave us a wonderful way to connect in a physical way, to share, to comfort, to enjoy each other; I was surprised that I didn’t feel self-conscious about gently sharing personal ‘best practices’ for some of the challenges she shared. It was a nice life lesson; we can each share what we know with the ones we love. Gentle coaching, loving communication, and heartfelt welcomed touch requires no certification.

It was a lovely evening to practice new skills. I found myself tapping new learning from some powerful books: Emotional Intimacy, Mindfulness for Beginners and Just One Thing come to mind. We shared new music suggested to us by our traveling partner with our yoga and meditation, which was a lovely way to connect him to the experience we were sharing. I don’t remember any pain from those moments, although I was in serious pain beforehand, and obviously so later, too. Funny how that works. How does that work? I’m glad it does.

Unfinished canvas...what will it become when the moment arrives?

Unfinished canvas…what will it become when the moment arrives?

Today is a good day to enjoy the moment. Today is a good day to acknowledge progress, however small. Today is a good day for love. Today is a good day to treat people well – even myself. Today is a good day to change the world.

It is a lovely morning, following a great weekend. I could comfortably stop right there, this morning, and contentedly continue to meditate, or flip through images, or simply relax and watch fish swim. This, however, is time with myself I value, and taking this quiet time over my coffee and a few words nurtures something precious. I wonder for a moment about that idea, itself; do we each find some different little something to be the thing that fills our heart with a comfortable sense of who we are, or is it the same thing for each of us, only packaged differently? Perhaps both those things are true.

Details matter.

Details matter.

I spent a large portion of my thinking time yesterday considering how to arrange the space in the loft; we’ve made some different choices with regard to how we’re using some of our space. I’m going to have room to paint! Everyday painting. Any day painting. Room to work more slowly, and explore more details. Room to be more technical. Room to work large. Room to work, stop for a day, or a work week, and pick up the thread of a new painting and continue with it more fluidly, and with greater emotional integrity. Room to live actively in the headspace I’m creating in, surrounded by the work I’m doing. I’m so excited it is sometimes difficult to remain fully present and engaged in the moment, when some small detail occurs to me (‘Where will the aquarium go?’).

There are a lot of details, each a potential choice.  What experience will I choose to build?

There are a lot of details, each a potential choice. What experience will I choose to build?

This change won’t  happen over night; there are other relevant changes in progress, and some work involved. I love having this to anticipate – even in looking ahead to it, there is delight. I’m also not prone to rushing stuff like this; taking my time with it reduces the stress of the change itself, which is a big deal for me. So, for now I am contentedly planning the details of changes to come, measuring space, measuring things, and doing the math. I’m sitting there, in the space-that-will-be, meditating in the openness and light, and contemplating the aesthetic of it, and what will be functional and beautiful, without being costly or impractical. I am making the space my own, even now, without moving one item from its current location to another. My heart is moving in. Suddenly our house feels far more homelike to me, and to a degree that exceeds most home-like experiences I’ve had.

I realize I’m sitting here, rather puzzled; how did I not get how important this so clearly is to me? Why have I turned a blind eye, or actively undercut my needs here, time and again over-compromising on an important value? What a crappy way to treat myself! I shake it off with a deep breath and a smile; I’ve only just begun ‘the second half’, certainly there’s time enough to learn to treat myself better than that. There’s time to make other choices. There’s time to appreciate partners who recognize how much this meets my needs – and potentially their own, as well.

There is simple beauty if finding my way, however slowly.

There is simple beauty in finding my way, however slowly.

Today is a good day to make new choices. Today is a good day to embrace change mindfully and with a serene heart. Today is a good day to enjoy the moment. Today is a good day to do my best, simply because it is my best, and that is what I do. Today is a good day to change.

In life, sometimes the infernal beeping of some internal alarm just refuses to reset. In some cases that gets labeled ‘trauma’ or ‘post traumatic stress’ or ‘hormones’ or… well, you get the picture. Sometimes a name isn’t enough. Sometimes giving our baggage more detail, putting a face on it to face, isn’t enough either.

Baggage gets heavy if I won't put it down.

Baggage gets heavy if I won’t put it down.

Each time I’ve been on the brink, I’ve stood wobbling on the edge saturated in a breath-taking fear or despair that both holds me from actually falling, and prevents me from stepping away without a clear act of will.  There are choices to be made, actions to be taken, self to build, self to destroy in the process of rebuilding. Some times we get the job done without help. Sometimes we turn to books, therapy, structured reprogramming, prescription drugs, or religion; we’re primates, we’ll find another way.

Art...

Art…

...contemplating the beauty of the natural world around us...

…contemplating the beauty of the natural world around us…

...long walks through beautiful forests...

…long walks through beautiful forests…

...a meaningful conversation with a friend over coffee...

…a meaningful conversation with a friend over coffee…

...a good book.

… or a short vacation through a good book.

Personally, sometimes I find I need to ‘hit the reset button’; radically alter my approach completely, try something I hadn’t expected might have value. Every choice matters. Every small moment of illumination lights a step on the path I didn’t see ahead of me, before.

Today is a very good day to one small part of everything that matters so much. Today is a good day to change the world.

Homecomings are special moments, at least for me. Even the small everyday homecoming of arriving home from work is a potentially beautiful and deeply connected moment with loved ones. When a homecoming goes wrong it hurts so much more than it probably requires, once considered with a full measure of perspective and compassion. I know this, because I have ruined a number of them, over the years. Along the way I have learned some things about homecomings:

1. Everyone is having their own experience, and has their own emotional investment in the outcome; making assumptions about exactly what it is, is a proven poor choice.

2. Unstated expectations are highly likely to be a factor in a homecoming going awry.

3. Everyone wants to share what’s been up with them during the time apart.

4. Being attached to an expectation, an outcome with an emotional investment behind it, or an internal narrative that no one else shares, is a shortcut to an unpleasant experience.

5. Even homecomings are about some very simple things: being accepted, being heard, and connecting.

Last night the travelers returned, and somehow managed to be unexpectedly early. Rather than being stressed out that I didn’t get to the house ahead of them to clean frantically (and mindlessly), I was delighted that they were home and safe. I arrived minutes later, and enjoyed my usually-at-home partner’s appreciation that I had stopped for cat food along the way (and she would not have to do so). I kept The Big 5 in play while they were away, and truly my partners are rarely far from my thoughts; the house was decently tidy, and small details matter. All weekend, I sought out little things to do that might result in a comfortable pleasant experience when the traveler’s returned.

It was a lovely homecoming evening, filled with laughter and shared stories, new art, and quiet conversation. I didn’t spend my solo time wracked with anxiety about housework; I painted. They didn’t come home to a disaster, because I also made a mindful effort to take care of things like dishes, and laundry, and routine chores (hey, I do have to live here, too! lol).  We didn’t ‘lean in’ to each other, allowing the greetings to be natural and comfortable, and the evening to be relaxed and leisurely. It was lovely.

The evening was short, of course. Both their arrival, and my return home from work occur slightly later in the evening, and once the car was unpacked, and calories were handled, showers finished… it was well into night. I spent some precious loving moments in the arms of the traveler returned home, too meaningful and valued to overlook, to personal and intimate to share further. I know I am loved.

Quite a nice homecoming.

I also slept incredibly badly, restlessly, and drenched in sweat – hot flashes? Misery. I woke with a headache, stuffy sinuses, and arthritis stiffness that renders my movements almost puppet-like. Still, no complaints from me, because those are not the details that define my experience.

"The Stillness Within" 8" x 10" acrylic on canvas with glow.

“The Stillness Within” 8″ x 10″ acrylic on canvas with glow, 2014

Today is a good day for love. Today is a good day to change the world.