Archives for category: gardening

It is a quiet morning, following a quietly productive Sunday. I spent the afternoon between household chores getting ready for the work week, and tidying up the loft for improved space to paint and to create ‘guest space’, and a bit of painting, too. We have a house guest for a couple weeks, a friend visiting for work. I felt strangely aware of how loud the espresso machine really is, as I made my coffee this morning. 

This morning I had that strange vertigo again, that I had yesterday morning. It’s very unsettling, and although it cleared up quickly, I am concerned because it is new. I guess I can expect some bits and pieces to start showing signs of wear; this mortal body is a fairly fragile thing, and I’ve not treated it well over the years. 

When my partners alerted me they were on their way home last night, it was clear they’d be home a bit earlier than I had expected, and my willingness to adjust for that allowed me to greet them when they arrived home. I’m glad I did. It was lovely to welcome my traveling partner home, and feel his strong arms around me, and the warmth and love in his embrace. It was a relaxed, happy homecoming and definitely worth the later bed time. I made a point of heading to bed promptly once they had arrived home; staying on schedule and getting enough sleep really matters for me. Making the effort doesn’t always assure success, though, and I was wakeful until after midnight, aware of the presence of our house guest. I managed not to be irked with myself about it, and eventually drifted off to sleep. It was a short night. I will be mindful of that as the day progresses, and make a point of getting to sleep on time tonight. 

With just one partner at home, I’ve gotten pretty good at ensuring I meditate, do yoga, and take care of me. I’ve been easily distracted in the past, from self-care and practicing what works to maintain my emotional resilience and perspective, when they are both home. I’ve had weeks of practicing practices and perhaps over time I’ve become sufficiently practiced – comfortable with new routines – that they will be an easier fit with everyone home? I’m hopeful. 

It was wonderful to cuddle my traveling partner, now returned home, to find myself experiencing that very particular presence that is his, and to share this love we have. Quite wonderful. This morning, it feels like ‘everything’, and certainly ‘everything’ is enough. 🙂

"Compassion" Harkness 1972

“Compassion” Harkness 1972

Today is a good day for love. Today is a good day to enjoy what feels good without hesitation. Today is a good day to be the change I wish to see in the world. 

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’m  not blue, and it is Monday. I was allowing my mind to coast a bit, considering first this, then that, hoping this morning’s writing would coalesce into something coherent, at least. I thought of songs I know themed on Monday and went to Google. It still hasn’t stopped surprising me how much coincidence, chance, and serendipity gently bring my attention to things that support my growth, my progress, or enhance it somehow. This morning, my Google adventure resulted in finding a blog with a post about songs themed on Mondays.  An interesting find, worth exploring further, and another traveler’s narrative.

The weekend was mostly about exploring spontaneity, and practicing doing so mindfully. For me, this proved to be an exercise in strangeness, and overall I enjoyed it enough to find it was well spent, although I don’t care to utterly abandon my preference for planning. 🙂

Flowers and sunshine.

Flowers and sunshine, whether I plan them or not.

Yesterday morning I shared breakfast with a dear friend, and took a stroll through the local farmer’s market, and beyond that spent the day in study and contemplation. I took a chance on a lovely day and did some yoga outside. In the afternoon, I lost track of time, meditating in a shady spot for what turned out to be a couple of hours well spent. Later, studying spontaneously became napping, and while I’m sure I needed the rest, it resulted in being awake far into the night, hyper-vigilant and overly aware of our house guest, my partner’s Dad, staying over.  I’m hoping I am sufficiently well-rested that the short night doesn’t come at an emotional cost later. Of course, there are choices that matter; choices affect thinking and behavior.

A new week begins. In these first moments of Monday I gently remind myself of the work ahead, of the professional self I carry to the office, of how that does or does not fit in with supporting my needs over time. I no longer allow an employer to call my shots as a human being; I am more than the sum of my professional skills.

I miss my traveling partner fiercely. There’s nothing to be done about it, of course, besides tend my heart with care, and honor and respect my emotional experience.

The resident feline models ideal behaviors for 'how to miss someone'; she takes care of her own business, until they return.

The resident feline models ideal behaviors for ‘how to miss someone’; she takes care of her own business, until they return.

I feel vaguely unsettled and uneasy this morning. It’s a small thing. The morning is a quiet and delightfully still morning…but there is a stranger sleeping in the room next to mine. I know, I know… my partner’s Dad. That’s family, right? Well…yes and no. Her family. For me, he’s a man I’ve met a number of times…3? 4? Hung out with briefly. I don’t actually ‘know’ him. I take my partner’s word for it that it is safe to have him in the house – that’s the simple truth of it. He is her family, she vouches for him as a human being. I don’t actually know him. I must have given her an odd look in the evening when she said something pleasant in passing about me having my quiet morning, this morning, since she’d be gone by… because, really, although the morning is quiet, the subtle tense awareness of a stranger in this space is palpable. I don’t really know how to communicate to someone else that this is an uncomfortable feeling for me. I am on alert, waiting…watching the clock.

I remind myself how unlikely it is that anything alarming, dangerous, frightening, or unexpected might happen due to his presence. I take some deep calming breaths. I return my awareness to the moment and cherish my wounded heart that will most likely never trust a human being solely because they are a parent, even of someone I care for (perhaps especially of someone I care for; I know them, and the damage left behind in childhood’s passing).  What reason do I have for that sort of trust? Then in a moment of beautiful perspective, I think of a friend and our broader circle of shared friends, all on ‘baby watch’; she’s past due and eagerly awaiting the birth of her son. How beautiful and wonderful to see a child already so well-loved, waited for, prepared for, who will be received in such total love! She is a woman of remarkable heart and grace, and wholly suited to motherhood, not because she has nothing else to offer the world, but because she chooses to offer her love as a mother, in addition to so much more, and does so skillfully. If I could have chosen someone to mother me, as I headed for mortal form, surely I would choose such as she. So… parents, not all bad. lol

Choosing awareness. Choosing presence. Choosing 'now'.

Choosing awareness. Choosing presence. Choosing ‘now’.

Balance. Mindfulness. Perspective. Sufficiency. Today is a good day for big ideas that require only one word. Today is a good day to change the world.

Well, or something like that; it’s my birthday. I make rather a big deal of some of them, less so of others, this one has been a strange wobbly roller coaster ride of achievement, change and the passage of time.  51 isn’t generally one of the ‘milestone birthdays’.  51 isn’t even cool enough to be a prime number birthday. It’s just… a year older than 50. 🙂

To be fair, 50 kicked ass in so many ways, how could 51 really challenge it on the very first day? So, we’ll keep things simple; dinner after I get home from work, a restaurant I like and consider a bit of a treat, and near enough to home that it won’t be a ludicrously late night. Sleep matters to my well-being and good cognition; 50 taught me a lot. I reached greedily for change, and learned a lot about choice, will, and love. I spent much of the year deeply invested in study and growth, and standing on the doorstep of 51, I feel a sense of purpose, and find that I have goals of my own that matter enough to build my life around them, to make my choices consistent with those desires on a daily basis, and to be willing to lean on those goals a little bit now and then and say ‘hey, I missed the mark here, I’d like to do this one differently…’. The occasional ‘course correction’ or adjustment in everyday trajectory feels less disruptive than it once did, generally. I am, overall, less stressed out, generally less confused, mostly more chill, and rarely deeply unhappy – only briefly, now and then.  It’s been a good year for change.

So…here I am. 51. As with most birthdays, it really doesn’t feel any different than 50 did, yesterday.  I’m okay with that.  Every day is a new experience, and it isn’t about age. Age and aging just don’t seem to be the Very Big Deal people so often make them out to be.  Yesterday I enjoyed a video that proves that point.  I’ve started hiking again, myself. I still work in my garden. I manage about 5 miles a day on foot during the week and yoga every day.  I feel pretty good, in spite of pain.  I feel strong and capable. Hell, I feel more beautiful at 51 than I felt at 20, and the photographs support that, mostly because the pained and tense, vaguely angry look on my face at 20 was off-putting, to say the least. At 51, I am smiling, joyful, and generally delighted with life and love. 51 is a very nice place to be in life.

Here’s to life and love and 51! Today is a good day to celebrate life. Today is a good day to enjoy love and work and growth and the small delights that keep things fun. Today is a good day to enjoy the world.

Where will my path take me?

Where will my path take me?

After numerous flight delays, I finally reached my destination, and a taxi. I was one 40 minute cab ride away from home.

My driver made the trip in a heart-stopping 24 minutes!

My driver made the trip in a heart-stopping 24 minutes!

My homecoming was delightful, warm, loving, supportive. I know we hung out for a little while, I know souvenirs were brought forth, shared, discussed. There may have been an anecdote shared, or two.  I think we ‘got caught up’. I didn’t stay  up late, but I didn’t rush to bed, either; Las Vegas got me used to just going and going and going…ending the evening and going to sleep was challenging, in spite of obvious signs of exhaustion.

Yesterday happened. Most of it involved sleeping. I woke in the morning, too early, had coffee and started an argument. It hadn’t been my intention, and in-the-moment I wouldn’t have described the circumstances that way, but looking back, the step-by-step process of ‘starting shit’ was evident, and well-followed with considerable precision. I was still so incredibly fatigued that I was highly volatile, and that’s a poor moment to attempt conversation about political matters –  important or otherwise. This was not ‘important’. I was just killing time, waiting for an entirely other sort of moment, actually, and my choices were poor.  (Not surprising, really, my decision-making when I am fatigued is often quite peculiarly poor, and I suspect it is due to the specifics of my TBI.) I went back to bed, once it became clear I just wasn’t rested enough yet to be fit to interact with human beings.

Yesterday I slept 16.5 hours, waking 4 times for various reasons, and durations of time. I managed to drink about 128 ounces of water (thank you Hello Kitty water bottle!). I even managed to fit in some meditation, some yoga, and a couple short walks.  Apparently that is what it takes me to recover from 4 days in Las Vegas. lol (I think we could all have done without including a nasty tearful temper tantrum, next time I’ll try that.)

I am excited to be home. I am rested. Life feels very good.

Today is a good day to garden.

Today is a good day to garden.

Today is a good day to notice small delights.

Today is a good day to notice small delights.

Today is a good day to enjoy simple things.

Today is a good day to enjoy simple things.

Today is a good day to love without reservations.

Today is a good day to love without reservations.

Today is a good day to change the world.