Archives for category: Love

I don’t have all the answers. Some days, I’m fairly certain I don’t have any “answers”. At least, not to the questions I’m asking. This morning there’s this, though, which seeks to answer a whole lot of the “hard questions”, and offers a different path humanity could follow.

[No AI is used in writing or editing this blog. This is human content for human readers.]

This morning i feel hopeful, but also more than a little cynical; human beings (particularly wealthy ones) don’t like plans that require those with much to give anything up for those with little. We’re sick like that. Still, I read an article about the report (a report prepared by knowledgeable experts in the relevant fields and based on a metric fuck-ton of data over decades) and it certainly sounds promising. I track down the link to the report for later. I definitely want to read the whole thing.

Human beings, being human. Most of the people who will be arguing about this report and its recommendations won’t actually read the report. They’ll read an article in the Guardian or the NYT or the Washington Post, and blurt out redigested opinions they don’t actually hold based on any depth of knowledge or real commitment, and behave as if they had a thought. That’ll be supremely irritating but it may be an unavoidable byproduct of our desire to “sound smart” – style over substance. I sigh to myself; I’m not immune. I’m human, too. I’m definitely going to read the actual report though; I enjoy feeling hopeful.

I walk down the trail on this chilly morning. Peculiarly, it feels more like autumn than Spring. I’m glad I wore a fleece over my sweater. The sky overhead is a cozy comforter of puffy gray clouds. There’s a strip of open sky on the western horizon and the blue gray hills in the distance are enhanced by layers of far off clouds that mimic still more hills, as if even taller mountains are beyond those hills I always see. It’s a visually appealing illusion. I find myself tempted to return to the car and drive to those faraway hills.

…It is a work day, an ordinary Thursday, and not the day for adventure…

I yawn as I walk. Still waking up. The morning is a festival of green hues. The dark greens of the oaks and pines, the bright strips of green that are the young vines in the vineyard create a lovely scene. The yellower and bluer greens of this or that flower or shrub keep things interesting. It’s a beautiful morning. The feeling is deepened and enhanced by this fragile feeling of hope. It’s a nice beginning to a new day.

As I walk, a realization hits me; I never saw my Traveling Partner stumble even once last night! I’m given yet another moment to feel hopeful and encouraged in life and I feast on it. I’m not starved from joy these days, I definitely get an ample portion, but little gives me more joy in the moment than my beloved’s continued recovery from injury. It’s the very best “birthday present” I can imagine.

As I walk, I notice that I feel physically less “weighed down by life”, less burdened, and I marvel at how much my emotional experience determines my physical experience. I’ve noticed it before, too; when I feel sad, pain seems worsened along with my mood. When I feel merry, my pain often lessens, too – or seems less bothersome, however bad it is. I’d say “that’s funny”, meaning strange, but I don’t want the observation confused for amusement. It’s useful. We not only become what we practice, we inhabit an experience colored by our emotions. That seems like an important detail.

I get to my halfway point almost unexpectedly. I have been lost in my thoughts. I sit awhile listening to the creek beyond the trees chortling as if amused by my human foolishness. I watch the illusion of mountains on the horizon begin to curl and shift and take on a pink color from the sunrise. They definitely look more like clouds than mountains, now.

… Change is…

I breathe, exhale, and relax, grateful for my warm sweater and cozy fleece. I meditate awhile, feeling fortunate to have these quiet minutes to enjoy before a busy work day, aware that this is a choice. This? Here, now? It’s a familiar path, even metaphorically, but that doesn’t diminish the value in the path, the metaphor, or the lessons I can take from walking it. It’s a nice change to feel so hopeful.

I watch the clouds shifting and the changing light and shadows as the sun rises. I savor this hopeful feeling, grateful for the moment. I get ready to begin, again.

Hope is a feeling. Change is a verb.

I woke with a song in my head this morning. “Golden Years“, David Bowie…from sometime in the 70’s I think?  1976. An interesting year. His album Station to Station was one of the very first albums I ever owned. No idea why that was the song in my head as I woke… The song still lingering in my ears and my heart as I retired for the evening last night was very different, “End With You“, Benjamin Tod. Both are love songs, and certainly I’m feeling very loved this morning (as I did last night).

[No AI is used in writing or editing this blog. This is human content for human readers.]

The waning full moon setting at dawn.

Another new day begins. I get up, dress, and water the lawn before I head to the trail for my walk. All very ordinary for the life I live now. My “golden years”? Yeah, maybe; I’m as close to living “happily ever after” as I’m likely to get, and it feels good to feel safe and to feel loved. Neither life nor love are “perfect” (whatever the hell that even is), but they’re pretty g’damned good, generally.

I sit with that thought at the side of this local trail as the sun rises, illuminating the stand of oaks that line this part of the path. The moon is a lovely pale pearl against the delicate pastel blue of the morning sky. Pretty. I smile to myself, thinking about a book and two new sweaters – early birthday presents from my beloved Traveling Partner who decided to give me multiple little gifts this year in the days leading up to my birthday, instead of all at once. I grin and swing my feet from my seat on this bench. I’m eager to wear the sweaters (they’re cute and cozy and suit my sense of style), and to read the book (it’s one I’ve been wanting to read). Today will be too warm for sweaters and there will be little time for reading, but these are temporary conditions and do nothing to dim my enthusiasm or change this feeling of being loved.

The sun lights the vineyard, and the clock keeps ticking. I remind myself to enjoy the time I have, “while I’m standing in it” – it’s the only time I’ve got! Now. The rest is either anticipation or memory. I breathe, exhale, and relax, and enjoy this moment.

… The work day will begin soon enough…

I smile like a kid and wonder what my next birthday present might be and what kind of birthday cake I might be enjoying when the day comes? My Traveling Partner knows so well how to delight me. I suddenly miss him with a ferocity that surprises me. He’s not gone, he’s at home, still asleep, and has yet to start his day. 😆 I’m as in love with him as I was the first time I felt his strong arms around me or the tenderness of his touch. I’m fortunate to know a love like this.

… What delights you? What little moments of good fortune put a smile on your face? I hope you make a point of enjoying every fleeting beautiful moment of joy that life brings your way!

I laugh when the song in my heart shifts gears unexpectedly. “Happy Together“… the Turtles? Weezer? Doesn’t matter, it’s the sentiment that matters. The joy. I’ve definitely got a few minutes for joy. Then it’ll be time to begin again. Hopefully I can pack my joy like a lunch and take it with me to enjoy all day.

I slept okay. I woke up okay. The morning seems a relatively ordinary one. The weekend was generally good, although I feel like I didn’t get much done due to swapping out a notable portion of the time I would have spent on housework for self-care, and I still somehow manage to feel uncomfortable with that.

[No AI is used in writing or editing this blog. This is human content for human readers.]

I watched the moon setting as I watered the lawn.

It’s forecast to be hot today. I watered before I left for my walk. I ended up going back into the house for a warm cardigan. The forecast may say it’ll be a hot day, but it is quite chilly now. Funny how that sometimes happens.

It’s not important, just an observation on an ordinary Monday, for which I have no particular enthusiasm. That seems odd to me, but even that is pretty ordinary; people feeling some reluctance and lack of enthusiasm for the beginning of another work week is nothing new at all. We’ve probably all been there however much we may enjoy our work. I shrug to myself as I walk this familiar trail. There’s so much I’d rather be doing than working, but working is what pays the bills and unlocks the opportunities to do those other things, often. It’s unfortunate that we spend so much of our lives on this fucking hamster wheel.

Get off the hamster wheel now and then.

Yesterday’s hike was a lovely one. I enjoyed it enough to wonder if I could make it there and back on a workday… I’d be pushing my luck on the timing in a way likely to trigger my time hang-up, and cause me stress, undermining the value of the walk. Probably not a great idea. I’ll have to settle for weekends. This too, is ordinary. Most things are.

My allergies are vexing me, even this is nothing noteworthy. Human beings and spring allergies are a known thing. There’s an entire industry involved in dealing with allergies, and and whole field of medicine devoted to treating them. Mine are not bad relative to how bad they can be. I can enjoy flowers and walks among the trees, and petting cats… but there are a couple things that trigger my allergies, and they cluster in springtime. Tree pollen, mostly. Something about specific foods causes me to break out in sneezing and immediate sinus congestion and a runny nose. Wool against my bare skin can make me break out in hives. Bee stings are the most serious. Bee stings can cause anaphylaxis for me, and this time of year I carry a bee sting kit everywhere.

I’m grateful that I can enjoy the scents of flowers.

I sigh to myself at the halfway point on my rather ordinary walk on this ordinary Spring Monday. I’m not complaining. I’m grateful. Ordinary is okay, and for most values of ordinary, this is pretty good. My lack of enthusiasm isn’t nearly as important as this beautiful morning. I enjoy it for what it is. I enjoy it as I am. It’s enough.

Sunshine and oak trees, and a path; the way ahead is obvious, if not exciting.

I’m just saying, I suppose, that there’s no reason to expect that a healing journey or a journey to become the person you most want to be will lead to an exciting, eventful life of adventure and wild delight. Sometimes – mostly, perhaps – the big win is the relative lack of excitement, and the increase in ordinary pleasures.

Yesterday in the evening, things went sideways for a short time. My Traveling Partner and I stepped all over each other’s trauma and baggage. While that was thoroughly unpleasant, I’m impressed by our ability to recover from it, bounce back, and enjoy the remainder of the evening together. He impresses me. I’m grateful for the work he puts into a relationship. I smile and swing my feet from this bench, kind of wishing I’d worn the new sweater he gave me yesterday (an early birthday gift). I feel very loved. Not just because of the sweater.

What will you find if you slow down to see more?

I breathe, exhale, and relax. Sure, it’s an ordinary Monday, and I’d rather spend it with my beloved than spend the day working. That’s real, and it’s nothing special or extraordinary, just very human. I’m okay with it. I sigh and look at the time. I’ve a few more minutes before I have to begin again. I’ll make a point to enjoy them.

This morning I’m sitting alongside the trail, feeling the hint of a breeze tickle my face. It is a vaguely unpleasant sensation, and I brush my hair back from my face, irritated by the sensation. It passes. I watch the strange sunrise. A dense faraway bank of clouds along the eastern horizon obscures the view, no sign of Mt Hood, and a strangely uninteresting dawn unfolds as I watch. It’s not colorless, but it’s also not worth photographing. The moment itself is very much worth living.

[No AI is used in writing or editing this blog. This is human content for human readers.]

My birthday is coming up. I think about that for some little while. What do I even want? 63 this year… not exactly a milestone birthday. I chuckle grimly to myself; I’m no actuary, but even accounting for good fortune, modern medicine, and family history, it is a fair bet I’ve only got (at best) another 47-50 years left, regardless how I carefully I live them. The recognition that however one might approach the math, I’ve lived longer now than the time I have left feels a little heavy. That ticking clock ticks on.

What does an oak see in a lifetime?

I sigh as I sit with my thoughts. The slow steady exhalation feels pretty good, like letting go of a heavy weight – was I holding my breath (or just not breathing)? I take another deep deep breath and blow it out slowly. How is it that the simple act of breathing can feel so good? I breathe, exhale, and relax, and adjust my seated posture for better comfort. This is a good spot for meditation.

I am pulled from my reverie by farm workers driving through the vineyard, calling instructions or greetings to the workers making their way down the carefully planted rows.

…Beautiful sunny morning…

It’s almost June. My Traveling Partner has more or less redecorated and rearranged the entire house since the Anxious Adventurer returned to Ohio to live a life he understands from a computer chair, through a screen. Me? I’m still trying to finish unpacking into my studio and still haven’t finished returning things to book shelves that had gone into storage. I don’t see it as laziness or lack of commitment, there are simply a lot of things competing for my time and attention, and I kill forty hours every week working for someone else. Pretty ordinary, and I’ve only got so much energy to work at all (like anyone else). My results vary. 😆

…63…

Weird sort of birthday. I wonder what I actually want? I sit with that thought. Cheesecake would be nice. Maybe brunch out together, with my Traveling Partner? Books. I love holding a new book in my hands that I have not read. I still read. Maybe a really nice bottle of sherry, something sweet, that tastes of raisins and aged oak? I smile at my foolishness. I drink so seldom and so little that a bottle of sherry is a delight for a year or longer. It is more enticing as an idea than in practice. Books make more sense from a purely practical perspective.

Generally speaking, I have what I need in life. I let my mind roam my mental map of the house. Anything missing? Not really. I’m fairly content and satisfied with my life most of the time. I haven’t got much to complain about or yearn for. Nothing obvious lacking. Granted, I’m pretty easily pleased, and satisfied with sufficiency… but one might expect I’d have at least some idea of something more I might want.

… Cheesecake and books to read? That’s all I can come up with? 😂 Maybe a watch? I like a nice timepiece with an automatic movement…

Time. I want more time. Not exactly a practical item for a wishlist.

… That ticking clock vexes me. There is still so much to see and do in this life, and so many more miles to cover on paths I haven’t yet walked. I’m certainly not bored with it.

I watch the sun rise, and get ready to begin again.

My beloved wakes me early. He can’t sleep. He needs to sleep; he’s got work. I’m keeping him awake? My mind is still numb with sleep, and I don’t fully process what he’s saying. Have I overslept? I get up, dress, and head out, still not quite awake. Nothing is open yet, which seems odd. I get gas and begin to head up the highway “to work”.

[No AI is used in writing or editing this blog. This is human content for human readers.]

I get a couple miles up the highway and finally process what time it is (04:00), what day it is (Tuesday, after a Monday holiday), and where I’ll actually be working, later this morning. I sigh to myself and double back towards my usual preferred walking trail for a weekday morning. Too early for anything but terrible gas station coffee, doesn’t matter anyway (I generally get coffee after my walk not before).

…Damn, though, coffee would be good right now…

I’m so tired.

I’m halfway down the trail when a gray dreary dawn emerges from the darkness. Looks like maybe more rain? My bones ache, muscles too. I’m not really complaining, just noticing. Different tasks and chores over the weekend means different muscles are sore, but I still managed some good self-care and sore muscles from effort mean lasting gains in strength. I’m okay with that. More sleep to recover would have been nice. Meh. I shrug it off and check the report on my CPAP machine app; only five hours. Not really enough (for me, personally, I do best with at least 7.5 hours, minimum), but I’ll get by, and I get another shot at healthy restful sleep tonight.

We rarely deal with ideal circumstances, as human beings. We overcome obstacles every day that we walk life’s path. I breathe, exhale, and relax. The cool Spring air is a little humid, damp, and smells of earth and green growing things. The morning is still and quiet. I spot a toad at the edge of the trail – an unusual sighting, and he’s sort of out in the open. I walk over and gently nudge him, encouraging him to hop into the wet grass, hoping he finds cover and safety there. He continues toward the creek a bit farther on. I find my favorite bench empty, no surprise at this hour. Bits of pale blue sky peak through breaks in the dense stormy clouds.

… Nice enough morning for it, I guess…

I sit quietly, mind mostly empty, still feeling groggy, but awake and unperturbed by the early hour. I’m often on the trail quite early. I watch the clouds moving past overhead. The clock ticks on. I could do more or behave differently, but the moment is fine as it is, and I embrace it with a feeling of contentment. This is pleasant solitary time, and I’m grateful to have the moment. I let my mind wander. Last night was special. I reflect happily on the recollection of shared intimacy and pleasure. I feel loved. (I grin to myself; it’s a very physical feeling.)

I sigh. The HVAC on a building nearby sounds a bit like distant ocean waves. My tinnitus sounds a bit like the buzzing of insects in the background that I remember from the humid southern summers of my childhood. I yawn and observe the dark gray storm clouds developing to the northwest; definitely looks like rain. A farm vehicle traveling too fast down the uneven farm trail that cuts through the vineyard sounds a bit like thunder. I wonder to myself again what reality is even made of?

Beyond the vineyard, storm clouds.

… Mornings like this, the structure of habit and practice is nice to count on; we become what we practice…

I glance at the time. No pressure, I got an early start. Coffee sounds really good though. I decide to get started back toward the car, and coffee. I shrug. Sure. My thoughts can come, too. 😆 It’s as good a time as any to begin again.