Archives for category: inspiration

I’m feeling sort of tender-hearted and starry-eyed this morning. It’s another pleasant day off and I’ll likely spend quite a lot of it in the garden, which is delightful. The weather is mild and the air smells of Spring flowers and mown lawns. My Traveling Partner made me a really cute 3D printed hydroponic strawberry tower (well, or for any sort of plant that will do well in that planter), and today I’ll wash some hydroponic “rocks” for the medium, check to see if I have “grow plugs” for planting seeds, maybe make a trip to storage with my Traveling Partner for this-or-that that we have, but not immediately on-hand. Fun. I love Spring. I love the way my partner loves me.

I got home from my walk this morning and sat down to do the payday stuff without stress. Nice. Finished that pretty quickly ready to move on to other things. I overlooked a really cool 3D printed image my beloved made for me “for our anniversary” (shit! I didn’t get or give him anything but my love. LOL) He made certain I saw it, and my eye keeps coming back to it, sitting on my desk now. I feel very loved.

Ooh – pretty!

I am delighted with the work he does creatively. He’s a different sort of artist than I am, myself, and I enjoy that so very much! He makes many things for my enjoyment, and to enhance the ease in my life, and the quality of my experience day-to-day. I sometimes feel inadequate doing “little more than” domestic tasks, caregiving, and bringing home a paycheck while he’s still partially disabled. I know that I’m not inadequate at all; and he tells me every day (in words and in actions) how very much he values me – both my efforts and my presence in his life. It’s nice. Good partnership.

I breathe, exhale, and relax, add a few things to my “to-do list” for today. Garden stuff. I’m glad I took the day off for a long weekend. Sure, I certainly “earned it”, but also I need it and I am enjoying it. Good choice. Time well-spent, on love, loving, and gardening. 😀

Speaking of gardening… on my way back into the house yesterday evening from a bit of wandering in the garden with an eye out for weeds and rosebuds, I spotted “a new neighbor”. A wee fancy sort of spider clinging to the siding, munching some other sort of less-than-ideal-to-have-around spider and watching me approach. I delighted in his fancy coloring, and snapped a picture to share with my partner before this wee neighbor hid from view or moved on.

A welcome sort of wee spider.

The clock is ticking. There is an entire day ahead! Flowers to smell, seeds to plant, weeds to pull, moments to enjoy with a partner I adore – an entire life to live – and it’s my own. Wow. I think it’s a good time to begin again.

There is a future, and the details of the specifics are unknown. Mostly, things will probably be fairly ordinary, because generally speaking, they are. I think about that as I walk, and wonder, and plan. No amount of planning and thinking will directly change the future, but it may lead to better choices.

Blue sky afternoon in Spring

I think about my garden as a metaphor. I can calculate the average yield of each plant I’ve planted, and plan ahead to do the necessary work, but these actions don’t determine what my harvest will actually be. My plans won’t determine what I actually get done. Circumstances will be what they are. I’ll know the outcome when I get there, and weigh the harvested produce. Will it be abundant? Will it fail to be sufficient? I can only guess, do my best, and hope to be prepared for all of the most likely outcomes.

Yesterday was sunny and pleasantly warm. I spent time in the garden in the evening after dinner. It felt like summer approaching. I planned to do some gardening on my breaks today (working from home). I woke to rain. It’s not raining heavily or steadily, though it obviously rained quite a lot during the night. I still manage to enjoy my walk. Drizzly now, but not raining hard. It’s not a good day for gardening though. It is sloppy and muddy and my arthritis is giving me a bad time. Yesterday, my view of today was obscured. I didn’t see this rainy day coming.

Spring in the Pacific Northwest

I sigh to myself as I walk, and I’m all the way back to the car before I take a moment for meditation and writing; my favorite stopping point on this trail was soaking wet and surrounded by mud.

I definitely don’t know what the future holds. Probably a lot more of all of the usual, which could be a bit of a buzzkill, until I consider how much of that future is within my control to at least some degree, all the time. I may not be certain of the outcome, but I do have a lot of choices. I can create and embrace change. I can hold space to succeed and to fail, and to find my way regardless of the circumstances. I can practice and build emotional resilience, contentment, and joy. Being present in this moment makes the journey a slow pleasant walk into a future I feel mostly pretty prepared for. Practicing non-attachment ensures that the bend in the path ahead is part of the journey, and not a cause for anxiety.

I smile to myself. My awareness of pain doesn’t make the morning less pleasant, only more human. I breathe, exhale, and relax, and prepare to begin again. The clock ticks. The sun rises. The rain falls. The journey continues.

I left myself a note a short time ago. I had it on my mind, and didn’t want to forget. I had intended to write a blog post on the topic, at some point.

Write about censorship, libraries, intellectual and cognitive liberty, freedom to pursue knowledge, the nature of truth and how “obscenity” is used to control information.

Simple enough. Scary shit, too. I’m not sure what else there really is to say, though. Buy real books. Read “banned” books. (Who gets to tell you what you can or can not read, seriously?) Practice critical thinking – and use that powerful brain you’ve got there. Make a point of buying those real books from independent book sellers, (ideally from some funky-cool local brick and mortar bookstore) while they still exist. Help to keep the printed word alive. See an article about books being removed from shelves, libraries, curricula, for some buzzword-targeted non-reason? (Looking your way “DEI” “critical race theory” and “woke ideology”…) Maybe consider making a point of seeing what the fuss is about for yourself by actually reading some of those challenged books? It’s a thought. Frankly, aren’t you just a little concerned about your access to knowledge being restricted based on someone else’s agenda? (I sure am.)

However many books, however much experience; there is more to learn.

Don’t allow yourself to be told what you can and can not know, or what is “safe” for you – as an adult – to dare to read. Preserve your freedoms and your rights by insisting on them – and making use of them. Visit your local library and make a point of requesting books that you want to read, if you don’t find them there. Encourage your libraries to stock books that are challenged elsewhere. Why the hell not? Your mind is your own – maybe work to keep it that way? Count on librarians to be superheroes in times like these.

I could easily make a case for reading being an essential tool (and skill) for independent thought, critical reasoning skills, and basic success in life. Other’s have already made that argument more skillfully than I could, and based on real expertise. We may not be able to learn everything we need to know from reading, but reading sharpens our ability to process information, and allows us the exposure to knowledge to be able to learn more faster, over time. Reading creates disciplined focus and depth of knowledge. Reading exposes us to other minds, other philosophies and world views, and other voices on the human experience. Don’t let anyone take these things away from you!

I sip my coffee as I write; you’re here reading, now. Take it another step. Google “banned books” – there are lists out there. Google “controversial books in the 21st century” or something as click-bait-y as “the books they don’t want you to read” – there is a world of books and knowledge out there, and truly some of what is available is remarkable and worthwhile. (Some isn’t; another opportunity to exercise those rational faculties, eh?) Books can be costly – find a used book store, or visit the book section of the local thrift store. Do you want to know “what’s really going on” with Ukraine or Palestine? There are so many books on those topics. So many phenomenal authors with notable credibility and depth of knowledge. Do you want to have a better understanding of what is going on with the technologies that seem to be taking over the world? There are books on those topics too. Don’t rely on TikToks and sound bites from talking heads on line. Read actual books. Go deeper.

Your access to knowledge is actually under threat. Don’t give in. Resist. Read books.

A few more finished… a couple new books added to the stack 🙂

I woke early, got to the trailhead after a peaceful Sunday morning drive. No traffic at all. My walk was quiet, solitary, and uneventful in every way. It was just me, the sounds of distant traffic and my footsteps, and the occasional song of a robin somewhere nearby. There were flowers blooming along the trail.

A field of little yellow flowers.

Flowers are a bit like moments, aren’t they? They are brief and often quite beautiful, some more impressive than others, often regretfully fleeting, sometimes delightfully sweet. Lives are built on moments the way gardens and meadows are built on flowers; there is so much more to it than that, but it’s easy to overlook the underlying complexity distracted by the moment – or the flower.

A clump of small purple-pink flowers.

Moments and flowers both have incredible variety. Some are intensely beautiful, others are quite subtle. Some are memorable to the point of creating a lasting impression or an archetype, others less so, becoming easily forgotten as time passes. Flowers fade and wither, their lives are short. Moments, too, exist and fade away, never to be repeated, each unique in some way.

I walked thinking about moments and flowers, both worth considering “from a distance”, and examined more closely. There is so much to learn from reflection on a moment, or from examining a flower. There is much to appreciate and enjoy being wholly present with either.

A worthwhile moment, considering a flower up close. An ordinary meadow flower, given a chance to become a moment.

The Spring air is fragrant with the scent of meadow flowers. My thoughts wander to my garden. The strawberries are flowering. Did you know that strawberry blossoms have a scent? The Swiss chard I planted has sprouted and the romaine is recovering from being nibbled upon by the deer. I planted tomatoes yesterday, and potted up the lemon balm I had sprouted. It’s a lovely tea herb, but a poor choice to plant freely in a garden bed; it will take over. Like the mint, I keep it potted. The clematis I added this year is thriving. The peas are climbing their trellis. The garden is a lovely metaphor for life.

Is your garden thriving? What have you planted there? Are you following a plan? Have weeds taken over? Your results will certainly vary (I know mine do), and there is so much work involved it can feel daunting to try to keep up. How we tend our gardens has a lot to do with how they grow and what we can harvest. It’s no good dreaming of plump sun-ripened tomatoes plucked from the vine if you didn’t plant any tomatoes to begin with! In every moment the choices we make matter, and guide our potential outcomes and future moments.

I smile and enjoy this quiet moment at meadow’s edge, smelling the flowers on the marsh breeze. Nice morning. I don’t mind that the clock is ticking, I’m not paying it any mind; I’ve got this moment to enjoy. I can begin again a little later.

Yesterday was delightful. All the way to the trailhead this morning, I thought about the gardening yesterday. As I walked, I continued to reflect on my garden, noticing the various wildflowers and grasses growing along the marsh trail and among the oaks on the meadow. I think about the bit of space yet to plant with… something. I keep walking.

Nice morning for it

Yesterday evening I got very excited to consider adding a potted rose to my still developing west side garden. This morning I admitted to myself that my eagerness was carrying me enthusiastically beyond my good sense; roses won’t do well in that location. Not enough hours of sunshine. I chuckle to myself when I fall back to my thought of perhaps putting a citronella geranium in that pot? Good grief, those get huge; it’s a small space. What am I thinking? So human.

For a time, I distract myself from those yearnings by contemplating the front flower bed, where I decided to fill in more area with the primroses that are doing so well. I’m eager to divide them and spread them out. I laugh at myself; it’s not yet time for that. They’re still blooming. I am so eager to proceed. Waiting on timing is hard.

It can be so difficult to approach plans and eagerness with discipline. It’s not impossible. It takes practice. Commitment. Something else productive to do is helpful, too. I smile as I walk, shaking my head at my foolishness. There’s plenty of weeding to do. Fact. There’s no shortage of work to be done. It’s just not the exciting stuff: the planning, the shopping, the planting. Not just now. The work that needs doing is weeding. The garden version of housework. Removing the wild geraniums that appear in the lawn. Digging out the occasional dandelion, too. Pulling out stray lawn grass where it tries to encroach on a flower bed. It even turns up in my raised beds. So much weeding. Manual labor of a rather unsatisfying, less than ideally fun sort. lol Still needs doing. Like the housework. There’s no actual end to it, and there’s nearly always something that needs to be done to live well and comfortably. Clutter to reduce. Tasks to be completed. Order to create out of chaos. It’s all worthy and worthwhile.

The garden as a metaphor; the work that needs doing isn’t exciting or glamorous. Still needs to be done.

… Sometimes it’s hard to want to do the actual work

When I stop at my halfway point to write and meditate, I notice how much my legs ache. My back, too. My head is kind of stuffy; allergies. As if on cue, I sneeze several times. Oh, but the flowers do smell so good! I add Claritin and pocket tissues to my shopping list for later.

My Traveling Partner has already pinged me a loving greeting this morning. I smile, feeling his love. Yesterday he showed me how the new Hue Forge software works. Exciting! It makes me think about color differently. He did a small project from a photo I had taken, with me “along for the ride”. It was a lovely shared moment. I sit quietly reflecting on love and life together. 14 years married, on May 1st – it doesn’t seem so long, but at the same time feels as if we’ve “always been together”. It’s a nice feeling.

Sky through the trees, rendered in Hue Forge and 3D printed.

I breathe, exhale, and relax. This “being human” thing takes so much practice to do skillfully without doing a lot of unintentional damage. Like learning new software, or developing a new skill, there’s more to it than there seems to be, given an opportunity to explore the nuances more deeply. lol I reflect awhile longer, on my garden, on love, on becoming the person I most want to be. There are so many verbs involved. So many opportunities to choose, do, fail, and to begin again. I’ll keep practicing – and walking my own path. I sigh contentedly, and get to my feet. It’s already time to walk on. Time to begin again.