Archives for category: joy
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Enjoy Your Joy

February 9, 2025 //
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What delights and excites you? There’s a lot of variety in human experience. Me? I like walking. Trails, sidewalks, new paths: I like to walk with my thoughts, seeing things along the way.

Today is Superbowl Sunday. I only know this because I’m interested in the halftime performer this year. I don’t watch (or care about) football. Lots of people do, though. My Dad did. My Mom reliably watched with him, but I don’t know whether she really enjoyed the game the way he did.

Some people like other sports, and there are many. Some people enjoy a sport enough to watch “the big game”, or some playoff or particular matchup between specific teams, but nothing more. Some people enjoy the ferocity of competition and shit-talking, and take things pretty personally, while others are more interested in some human interest details. Some people enjoy gathering together to party and share the excitement, and it’s not really about the game at all.

There are people who passionately follow a team or particular players, and people who memorize all the stats. There are people who collect collectibles and memorabilia, and eagerly hope to hold a signed game ball in their hands or add a particular numbered item to their collection one day.

I’m not especially into sports, myself, in spite of there being so many to choose from, and that’s okay too. There’s room for everyone to live free. I’ve got an on/off appreciation for MMA and boxing, but I don’t care for the hype or the shit-talk, and I’m dismayed when competitors turn out to be terrible human beings. I find myself ethically conflicted by the damage so many sports do to the players, and how little care sporting organizations actually provide to those injured human beings long term. Those details matter to me personally.

…But… Here it is Superbowl Sunday, and I’m not here to stomp on your joy, if football is your thing, or even if you gather for the day to enjoy snacks and cameraderie. Not at all; enjoy your joy! These are difficult times and you could probably use a fun diversion from the stress of watching the world burn.

I’m not particularly competitive, personally. I’m okay with that, too. Just another variety of human experience, eh? I’m walking my own path.

… One thing about sports, though; cheating ruins the game. True in life as well. Don’t cheat. It’s poor form, and aren’t you better than that? (You could be. It’s a choice.) Be an ethical player. Everyone wins when the game is played fairly.

Here’s hoping that the playing field is always level, the referees are honest, and that the rules are always fair, whatever sport you prefer, and in your life, too. Win or lose, I hope you find the game well-played, and that you find joy in the moment. Don’t forget to make room for others to find joy. You may love football, but someone else finds their joy in dressage, cricket, women’s rowing, regatta, kickboxing, MMORPG, esports, or… fishing. There are so many ways to play the game of life. So many ways to find a moment of joy. So many varieties of human experience. Enjoy your joy. Make room for other people to enjoy theirs, too.

I finish lacing up my boots as daybreak becomes dawn. It’s a beautiful foggy morning on the trail along the marsh, and I’m eager to walk it. I’ve got the trail to myself this morning. A crane flies by. It’s time to begin again.

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Categories Allegories, Brain Injury, breathe, forgiveness, Free Will, gratitude, Healthy Living, inspiration, joy, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Oregon Trails, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, solo hiking, The Art of Being, winter

Something, Something, Love

February 2, 2025 //
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Daybreak comes earlier as Spring approaches. Soon my early morning walks will bring me face to face with the sunrise, but that’s not yet. No need to wait for the sun, though, I have enough light to see the trail.

Cloudy winter morning just before dawn.

As the hints of blue sky are covered by incoming clouds, I lace up my boots. I’ve got the trail alone again this morning. I breathe the cold air, grateful for breath. It’s no small thing to be able to breathe easily, and worth a moment of gratitude.

This morning I am thinking about love. I consider, fondly, this partnership I have, now, and the journey getting here to this place in life. My heart is filled with love songs and enthusiasm. I’m grateful to know love at all – that doesn’t happen for everyone, and I was definitely late to that party! In 1995, I was still confusing lust and love, and it was obvious in my decision making. My heart was full of rage and pain, my head was a mess of chaos and damage. I wasn’t ready for love, at all. It would be many years before I would be.

“Face of Gods: Lust” acrylic mixed media, with ceramic & broken glass, on canvas  10″ x 10″, 2005

In fact, after some peculiar facsimiles of love, over various relationships and several years, it was 2010 before I actually found myself wrapped in love (and confusing it for lust), and another year or so before I began to truly recognize the difference and begin to understand what love demands (and needs to thrive), and I’m still learning.

“Communion” acrylic on canvas with ceramic details, 24″x36″ 2011

This too, is a journey.

The lines between love and lust can be blurry, but there’s no mistaking one for the other. When lust cools, and it sometimes will, love stands fast, unconcerned with such trivia. I walked with my thoughts and love songs in my heart. Nice morning for it. I feel fortunate and grateful to share the journey with my Traveling Partner. Fortunate to love like we do, and fortunate to burn (still) with lust’s fire for this human being I love so well. It’s a potent emotional cocktail.

I laugh to myself remembering a certain friend who had suggested at the time that perhaps this man (who would become my beloved Traveling Partner) was “just using” me… I remember my reply. “If he is? Worth it.” Possibly one of the most true things I’ve ever said. lol I’m grateful (and fortunate) to enjoy loving and being loved. Is there a price to be paid? Sure, isn’t there always? But at least in my own life, the price I’ve paid for lust has been paid in cash and pain, and paid in the damage done and the risk to my safety and sanity, where the price I’ve paid for love has been paid in the coin of a very different realm. I have had to learn to be “better than I am”, and learn to treat my Partner’s heart well. It’s been difficult and demanding. I am better for it, a thousand times over.

Love songs and gratitude are a nice way to start a morning. I smile while I walk, still smiling when I stop to write these few words. Love has made me work so much harder than lust ever would, but it has been so worth it. With a heart full of love, and an eye on the sunrise, I begin again.

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Categories Allegories, art and the artist, breathe, forgiveness, Free Will, gratitude, inspiration, joy, Love, meditation, Metaphors, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Relationships, The Art of Being, The Big 5, winter

Versions

January 27, 2025 //
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I’m sipping my coffee in the quiet of the office before dawn on a Monday morning, listening to a favorite jazz singer crooning softly in my ears. I find myself reflecting on the last time I listened to this particular woman’s voice, before “rediscovering her” recently, searching for a particular song to share with a friend going through some things. I lived a very different life at that time. Most of the music I listened to then was jazz. That realization got me thinking about the many different “versions of me” I have lived over a lifetime, through the lens of the music I listened to.

Using music to differentiate from one version of myself to another, I can see myself change over time, through career changes, addresses, partnerships, personal philosophy and points of view, economic circumstances, the books I read, the language I used, the way I painted, and even preferences in how I dressed, and who I hung out with. Change is. I’ve grown over a lifetime of choices, opportunities, and circumstances. Some of my changes have been inflicted upon me, some were choices. In some sense, I have been many women.

“Lichen II” watercolor on paper, 8″ x 10″ 1984 (painted while listening to jazz)

That woman who listened mostly to jazz lived with domestic violence, which she carefully hid from the view of colleagues. She had few friends. She was physically beautiful – as beautiful as she would ever be, but her mind was a mess. Her values and philosophy in life reflected the strained jigsaw puzzle of thinking errors and mental gymnastics needed to rationalize her experience. She lived a strange sleepless life, traumatized and anxious, and always vigilant. Music – particularly jazz – was always “a safe topic” at home. An acceptable shared pleasure. Her home was compulsively meticulously neat, always. It had to be. She was young – in her 20s – and a soldier on active duty. Respected at work, mistreated and tormented at home, she kept people at a distance, except those occasions when she “let it all go” and hit the club looking for a moment of affection in a stranger’s embrace, when circumstances permitted. It was a life of confusion, and as her mental health eroded, her substantial collection of jazz CDs increased. I listen to that music now with mixed emotions, when I listen to it at all. I find beauty in the music, and distress in the memories. I am a lifetime away from that young woman, and a very different person. I make different choices. I think different thoughts. I believe different things and understand the world differently.

I chose change many times before I ever put myself on this path. Searching for something different, and finding differences, but not wellness, contentment, or joy. For a long time I blindly chased “happiness”, finding mostly misery.

“Communion” acrylic on canvas w/ceramic details, 24″ x 36″, 2011 (painted listening to a mix of EDM tracks)

I’d found myself mired in futility long before I met my Traveling Partner. His friendship pulled me back from the brink of despair more than once, before we were ever lovers. His love was literally “life changing” – because it changed my thinking, and my choices. I’ve come so far! I smile to myself, and change the music. I’ve “changed the music” many times in this one mortal lifetime (it’s a metaphor). I’m grateful to have had that opportunity. I smile and listen to wise words in a favorite song. We can choose change. Sometimes change is forced upon us. Change is. I’m grateful for this enduring love (and partnership) along the journey.

“Siletz Bay Pink Sunrise II” pastel on pastelbord, 7″ x 9″, 2024 (painted listening to love songs)

…The journey is the destination. There is no map. If you stray from your path, begin again.

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Categories Allegories, anger, anhedonia, Anxiety, Brain Injury, breathe, Despair, forgiveness, Free Will, gratitude, grief, inspiration, joy, Love, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, pain, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, The Art of Being, winter, Words

Softly

January 26, 2025 //
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I’m sitting with my thoughts, waiting for the sun, and watching a thin sliver of moon rise over the southern horizon. I’m reminded of a particular jazz version of a poignant song, and struggling to remember the name of the vocalist who sang the rendition I like.

Moonrise before dawn.

I finally remember her name. Nancy Wilson. What a voice! The song lingers in my memory, significant and personal. I find a recording of it online and play it as day breaks and the eastern horizon turns orange. It’s a beautiful moment. I savor it.

An owl flies overhead, passing through my field of vision, silhouetted against the the sky as I watch the sunrise. An omen? No, silly, an owl. 😉 I smile to myself, and breathe, exhale, and relax. I watch distant mumurations of flocks of birds across the bold orange sunrise. A good morning for birds, apparently. I try to get pictures, but I’m not fast enough and was unprepared; I “settle” for enjoying the sight. It’s enough to be present in this moment, here, now. It usually is.

The park gate clangs open. Dawn lights the trail. It’s a chilly morning and I wind my scarf around my neck and stuff my gloves into my pockets, expecting to need them. I pause to massage the painful places of my shoulder and neck before I leave the warmth of the car for the beauty of the trail. Always choices. Always verbs. I hear geese calling overhead. It’s time to begin again.

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Categories Allegories, breathe, forgiveness, Free Will, gratitude, inspiration, joy, Love, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Oregon Trails, pain, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, solo hiking, The Art of Being, winter

Better & Worse

January 23, 2025 //
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I slept badly last night. I woke to the full brightness of my artificial sunrise (which usually wakes me much sooner, in soft dim light). My routine was thrown off by the addition of putting in my new hearing aids, which I’m not yet super skilled at, and doing it felt clumsy. My long hair and glasses complicate that a bit; it’s necessary to brush my hair before I put in my hearing aids – but brushing my hair is often “the last thing I do”, and I’d set things up such that the hearing aids were “too soon” in my routine (thinking I’d put them in right after I put on my glasses). lol Being fond of routines and habits has a downside; the plan needs to account for the realities of my lived experience. So. I found myself mentally rearranging my morning routine – during my morning routine – and the end result was that I forgot my computer glasses when I left for work. Fucking hell.

…The hearing aids work very well, though, so there’s that…

The drive to the office was ordinary enough, though I’m still getting used to the “convenience” of hearing things so differently. Even car sounds, like the seatbelt warning ding, are quite different, and not just “louder”. Interesting. It’s somewhat similar to the experience of getting new glasses after needing glasses for awhile. There’s a certain awe and wonder to the level of additional detail. (I also need new glasses…)

When my Traveling Partner wakes and sends me a text message, the notification reaches me through the hearing aids, which are paired with my phone. I rather stupidly had the volume almost all the way up, because without the hearing aids, that’s what it took to get my attention – and I still missed tons of messages, because I just wasn’t noticing the notifications. Well, that’s not a problem now! I chuckled and turned the volume way down, fairly delighted that I can stop compulsively checking for missed messages, now, being able to count on hearing the notification each time.

…Pretty mundane stuff, eh?…

I sip my coffee and take a moment for myself before I start getting caught up on work. My back aches in spite of taking pain medication for that. I shrug to myself grateful that I’m not yet experiencing eye strain from wearing the wrong glasses. It’s a very human experience. This fragile vessel isn’t in the shape it once was, and various components are needing attention, or assistance. My thoughts wander briefly to “how much longer?” but I don’t linger there – I know I won’t live forever, but I’ve no desire to drag the end closer to my “now” moment. I hear the phrase “death and taxes” in my thoughts and roll my eyes; it is time to do the taxes. Apparently I’d rather think about death. LOL Humans are weird. I breathe, exhale, and relax. This moment here, with my coffee and my inbox, is quite enough for now. I pull my attention back to “now”.

It’s still quite early, and I have the office to myself for the time being. It’s pleasantly quiet, although it sounds quite different in many little ways. I listen to the ventilation, the hum of distant machinery, and the subjective “silence” of this space. It’s not silent at all. It’s not even actually “quiet” – I just perceive this experience as “quiet” because it is not filled with the chaos of human voices. I sip my coffee, content and grateful. This is enough – even with the wrong glasses on. 😀 I look out the window into the pre-dawn darkness. Daybreak soon. I turn off the office light, too better see the day begin. The light of my monitors is enough to work by.

I feel incredibly grateful and fortunate. I’ve got a partnership I can count on, with a human being I quite adore. I’ve got a good job that keeps the bills paid, and the pantry stocked. I’ve got decent healthcare, and what it doesn’t cover is mostly handled by the VA when I need something more. I’ve got good friends and good colleagues. I’ve got this pleasant moment right here, and the hope that I’ll see many many more. It adds up to a pretty good experience. I sit with that awareness awhile. It’s been a worthy journey so far – and there’s further to go.

…It’s time to begin again…

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Categories Allegories, Brain Injury, breathe, Free Will, gratitude, health, Healthy Living, inspiration, joy, Love, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, pain, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, Sleepless Nights, The Art of Being, winter
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