Archives for category: Love

It’s late. I made a choice to finish the evening gently, investing in small joys I associate with the holidays: the music, the twinkle lights, the scents, and the flavors. By choice, I finish the evening with a smile floating on the current that is the things that are going well, rather than becoming snagged, weighed-down, by something going less well. (It would be a rare thing in life for absolutely 100% of everything to be entirely ideal.) I’m comfortable with contentment, and I have enough for that. I take time for me, and treat myself gently, and well.

Glow

Relaxing in the glow, I begin again.

I meditate a while and set aside enough of my concern for my traveling partner to rest easily and trust his good decision-making. Losing sleep over the circumstances benefits no one. Feeling comforted from within and able to ‘be there’ if called upon, I chill awhile longer in the glow of the Giftmas tree, grateful to love and be loved, and grateful to have enough.

 

The night is cracked open by the sound of sirens in the neighborhood. Someone is having a difficult evening. They’re not alone. There are other people alone or struggling in the night, frightened, angry, sad humans out there in the early darkness of winter. Dark times seem darker when it is also cold.

I had been writing when my traveling partner called, most recently. We spent most of the day together, many hours hanging out and enjoying each other’s company. After he left, I got first one call, then another… trying times over there, and I am worried for him. The sounds of sirens now, nearer by, keep pulling me back to older moments than those, threatening to mix the new and the old, or stitch them together. I save my draft. All those wasted words; too personal for publication, at least in this moment, now… But, it’s still this moment, now, and only this one. I breathe deeply, calmly, and watch a demon fall. “You have no power over me, now.” I whisper silently, with considerable satisfaction and a feeling of strength. (No doubt this too will require some practice, and there will be verbs involved.)

I am okay right now, aside from being concerned about my partner. It’s hard to watch him being mistreated. I don’t much feel like writing, and can’t do much to provide real assistance beyond offering a welcoming safe haven from any storm, a warm and accepting embrace, and my engaged presence. I will likely spend the evening with the phone near at hand, in case of an emergency call, and hope that ‘things blow over’, or that love will prevail.

 

Dear Santa,

It’s been awhile since we’ve talked, and surely the days of sending you long lists of retail delights is behind me… mostly. It’s not that I ‘have it all’ or wouldn’t benefit from a quality of life improvement here or there, it’s just that – generally speaking – I have what I need, and it’s enough. Still…you have quite a job ahead of you, and all you ever ask of me is that I do my best all year – and give you a list of what I want for Giftmas.

I think it’s safe to say that most of the time this year, I’ve definitely done my best – or what I thought was my best in the moment. So, that being said, I’m making a point of fulfilling my end of the bargain, Santa. Here’s my list:

  1. Please give me a moment – just whatever you can spare – to take a breath and rethink what I’m about to say to some other human being, long enough to avoid being thoughtlessly callous, or missing their point. I’d like to improve on how well I listen this year.
  2. Please also give me any spare reminders you may have laying about that we are each so very human, so that I also take a moment to pause before I react to what someone else’s experience is, and avoid taking it personally. I’d like to be more easily able to show compassion, without the detour through over-reacting in the moment.
  3. Santa, I know you’re going to work your sleigh off on Giftmas Eve, and spend the next 280 days or so recovering – can you spare some of your self-care best practices, because I gotta say – you’ve been working that magic once a year for decades, and I get tired just thinking about it! Please fill my stocking with self-regard, consideration for my needs over time, and a jolly approach to taking care of me – I promise to share.
  4. While I’m thinking about it, how about more Love, Santa – I want all of the love, the loving, and the sweet romance that can be crammed into my calendar all through the holidays and beyond. I’ll be so good –  next year, too!!
  5. Santa, please help me remember, all year long, how good this feels right now? I’d appreciate it very much, especially some time down the road when I feel insecure and doubtful, wounded, kicked-around, or bleak; this ‘now’ right here is quite wonderful, and I’d like to hold on to the comfortable certainty that there will be other such lovely times in the future.
  6. One last thing, Santa? The chocolates and sweaters and twinkly lights are wonderful, and I smile and smile for so many days – please tell me how I can hang onto this sense of wonder and delight until Giftmas comes around again next year? You can bet I’d share that, too!
Merriment, love, and fun -  what's on your list?

Merriment, love, and fun – what’s on your list?

I’m still loving Giftmas after all these years, Santa, and hoping I am on the ‘nice’ list…

Your Friend,

E.H.

This weekend I didn’t chase anything, didn’t force anything, didn’t insist on anything, didn’t apply pressure to myself, my experience, or my time. I suppose I could have. I could have gotten very stressed out about finding just exactly the perfect finishing touch Giftmas gift for my traveling partner, and blown my weekend on an unhealthy bit of hysterics when inclement weather messed with my plans. I could have held on to an assortment of assumptions and expectations of the weekend, and found myself facing Sunday with bitter regret – for both the things that did not happen, and the behavior that did. I didn’t do those things.

Instead, I allowed the weekend to simply take its course, embracing events as they occurred, and making the proverbial lemonade where lemons seem to have been provided…although…sitting here sipping on a tangerine mocha, made with fresh-squeezed tangerine juice from tiny sweet juicy tangerines so perfectly ripe they were not going to keep over days of eating, it’s hard to taste lemons. I made a fire in my fireplace, last night. I made another today, and contentedly kept it going through the gray rainy afternoon; it crackles in the background now. It’s been a weekend of contentment and satisfaction. It’s been lovely in spite of the rain.

Welcome in my own experience.

Welcome in my own experience.

The weekend is almost over, and a new work week unfolds ahead of me – the last before the Giftmas holiday. I’ll be out of the office for a few days (the week of Giftmas), and for a few days the next week, too. I pause, for a moment very aware how badly I really need this rest. I recognize that I am tired on a number of levels. This was an emotional year with a lot of complexity and change, and there is much to consider about the year to come. For now, I am content with contentment and that is enough. I sip on my mocha, making a mental note to finishing putting away the laundry that finished up just before dinner. Dishes, too. A box by the front door is my reminder in the morning to take it to the recycling bin; it arrived late in they day, during the pouring rain, and I didn’t take it straight out as I ordinarily might.

I've been very busy relaxing.

I’ve been very busy relaxing.

The evening is a quiet one. The lifestyle, too, is a quiet one. I’m not sure I knew sooner that this is what would suit me so well, when I looked ahead from many years younger. The mundane details aren’t dull to live; it’s peculiarly difficult to describe the luxury of hot laundry pressed to my chest as I dash back to my apartment in the rain, or the deep-down relaxation of finishing yoga and relaxing with my feet near the fire… just… relaxing, head back, gazing into the lights of the Giftmas tree… or emoji smiles and kisses from a partner I know is busy with other things, but values me such that taking the time is worth it, throughout the day.

This is a quiet life, and rich in excitement, delight, pleasure, contentment, joy, wonder…and moments of pure humanity; the difficult bits provide perspective, and comparison – reminders not to take what is so good for granted, not even for a moment. So… I enjoy the quiet weekend wholly and without reservations or concern, or trying to make it something more… or something less. More and more I am finding poetry in the ordinary, and lifetimes of love in moments of joy. Yes, there are verbs involved, and practice. I’m okay with that; I’m okay right now.

Small details are meaningful when we take time to notice them; small pleasures can fulfill our needs when we take time to enjoy them.

Small details are meaningful when we take time to notice them; small pleasures can fulfill our needs when we take time to enjoy them.

I don’t think I’ll chase anything today. Living life is enough.

 

What a peculiar day. It’s nearly at an end. I began it well enough, waking from a very restful night, having slept in. I woke in very little pain. All very promising as beginnings go. Somehow, something just… wasn’t. It was strange. I sat a long while. Not exactly meditating. Not exactly daydreaming. No music. No coffee. I even ended up chatting with my traveling partner for some time before I ever had coffee.

I did have coffee, eventually. I shook off my ennui enough for that. The rain continues to fall. I enjoy the sound of it. I took my coffee on the couch, and just sat for some longish time, then a distracting email message reminded me of a practical task that needed to be handled. Once that was done, I found myself feeling grateful to my traveling partner for his help on all sorts of practical things I tend to muddle up because of my injury…which got me thinking about gratitude generally, and people who were ‘there for me’ long ago, at various points when I earnestly needed help… I thought, too, about who I am now, how I feel about those things now, and whether or not I also felt I had ‘said thank you’, shown my appreciation, or taken an opportunity to return the gesture at some other point. Am I the woman I most want to be?

I found myself enjoying some time on writing notes for holiday cards and letters to far away old friends, and thinking about how very precious our connections to each other really are. Time well spent.

I spent the afternoon wrapping up other practical details of life, after the nasty weather deterred me from driving in holiday traffic. Marveling at how people can be such dicks to each other, in the abstract is one thing – wasting part of the weekend being pummeled by it just didn’t seem the right choice today. I realized at that point that I might not be where I thought I was within myself. I got things done and headed home, thinking about the recent South Park episode (s19e10 PC Principal Final Justice) and wondering if the scenes of imminent family gun violence might have messed with my head more than I realized at the time. I later made an observation to my traveling partner that it might become a favorite episode, having done something amazing I had never been able to do for myself; it trivialized the threat of violence at the hands of a loved one in a comedic [for me] way – it rendered some of my chaos and damage harmless – a cartoon. That’s powerful. But… in that initial moment, the panic just at the edges of my consciousness was very real, and although it didn’t take me over, it is part of my experience.

Welcome in my own experience.

Welcome home.

At this point, I’m past all that. I took care of me with great tenderness and compassion. I’ve gone through some things, over the years. They’re behind me now. I did a load of laundry, had some dinner, and made a fire in the fireplace – the first since I moved in. It’s a lovely quiet evening, no music, no video, just the sound of the crackling fire, and the rain. It’s enough, and I am okay right now.