Archives for category: Love

This morning I woke to the alarm, and not that happy about it. I slept decently, and woke in a more or less ‘normal’ amount of pain, certainly nothing extraordinary. My coffee is hot, and tasty, though I don’t feel especially eager to drink it. I feel pre-occupied and vaguely distracted, by nothing I can put my finger on. My morning yoga sequence eased my stiff joints, and improved my range of motion. It seems, in general, a pleasant autumn morning…why is there this sense of something unsettling lurking in the background? I’m learning to let those things go, rather than continue to troubleshoot a vague fleeting emotion until it becomes something problematic and real; the change is an improvement, generally speaking.

Hot flashes and night sweats? Yeah, still. It’s hard to call it ‘hormone hell’, though, it’s just not that big a deal anymore. Menopause, so far, has been worth reaching. There’s a lot less turmoil and volatility.

This morning lacks the chill serene harmony of a typical quiet morning; I feel restless and unfulfilled. I wonder briefly what that’s about, and recommit to ‘now’ and let it go. Autumn is a season of change, and I can accept that a certain amount of restless unease may be part of that experience. My heart is filled with maybe’s and ‘I wonders’, and I yearn for something new, or more, or different, or… something. Maybe I’m just yearning for sexual contact, or romantic intimacy; pain is an impediment to every day adult fun, and the physical side of love that is part of my everyday struggle for balance, contentment, and sufficiency. (Certainly, menopause has done nothing to quash my ludicrous natural drive.)

My appointment time was interesting yesterday, insightful, worthwhile, cooperative, collaborative, and useful. I didn’t cry all the way home – or feel like I wanted to (I often do after particularly difficult discussions with my therapist). The evening was lovely, chill, and quiet.

We interrupt this program...

We interrupt this program…

My traveling partner interrupts to inquire if I am “going to be writing all morning, then doing a couple of chores and just taking off?” this morning. I feel irritated by the back-handed approach, and struggle not to react in the moment to what is essentially a request to hang out and enjoy my company. I’d find that desire so beautiful and loving if he’d actually just said “I’d love to hang out this morning, will you make time for that?” or something sweeter and more direct. It is what it is. These words here? I value them, and I value this morning time with me. I also value love.

Today is a good day to set other things aside for the sake of love.

Well, or consider anything, actually. Consideration is one of my Big 5 relationship (and life) values. I’m thinking that one over this morning, and why not? I could do worse on a Monday, with partners waking feeling poorly this morning, than to contemplate consideration.

We choose where to direct our attention and our efforts; there are a lot of options.

We choose where to direct our attention and our efforts; there are a lot of options.

When I first recognized what a big deal the simple value of ‘consideration’ is for me, I went looking for a properly clear definition, something more nuanced and detailed than ‘to consider’. Of my Big 5, ‘consideration’ is the most poorly defined in both common use and in the dictionary, which seems strange since I have the subjective sense that I understand precisely what I mean by ‘consideration’, myself. The simplest definition seems to be “thoughtfulness and sensitivity towards others” (at least in the area of meaning I intend to focus on; like many American English words, it is a multi-purpose word).  This seems more or less what I mean by it, too, inasmuch as ‘careful’ might mean ‘with care’; it’s true enough, it’s accurate, it just isn’t quite the whole of the meaning I find within my own understanding.

So, what do I mean that is more than “thoughtfulness and sensitivity toward others”? Maybe an order of magnitude more, rather than a real difference in meaning in an additive or subtractive way, I suppose; consideration seems a bit of an ‘old school’ value that limits allowable public rudeness and casual disregard of one’s fellow traveler’s on life’s journey. Embracing consideration as a personal value means really giving up a seat on the train for someone who appears to need it – and maybe not more than I do, but just needs it on a day I know I can stand awhile longer. It means taking a moment to listen to the check out girl chatting with me, and really hearing what she is saying, however busy and rushed I am, because she’s a human being and worth of a moment of my time and attention; her words matter, too. It means setting aside my writing on an autumn morning when I feel rather urgently that I have something to say, because my partner wants to hang out and our time together is precious and limited, and words keep.

Consideration is that ‘extra mile’ people talk about going. It’s the pause before an irritated comment. It’s the hug goodnight when I’m still angry. Consideration is about the small stuff: cleaning the espresso machine before anyone else makes coffee, without bitching about the mess someone else left behind, or taking a moment to toss expired stuff into the trash that I notice lurking in the fridge. Consideration is sharing a relevant news article on a busy day and letting it go at that, because it is a busy day and no one has time for chit-chat over email. Consideration is thinking just for a moment about needs beyond my own, and taking the time to do one or two helpful things to keep things on track, and comfortably so, for everyone I interact with – not because I have to, and not because it is expected, but because it is kind, compassionate, and can generally be done fairly easily with minimal effort beyond that moment of awareness that some small action, intent, or communication* would be a value add.

I am not the most considerate human being I’ve ever met. I noticed at some point a few years ago how incredibly inconsiderate I did happen to be, every day, in every relationship I had – both personal and professional. It was… callous. The time and effort I may have thought I could be saving by not taking a moment to consider the other person didn’t contribute any increase in my own well-being, happiness, emotional balance, productivity, good times, prosperity, or even minutes of precious time to use for me. It adds nothing to be inconsiderate. Once I figured out that there was no value in the lack of consideration (neither to myself, nor to the world) changing it became relevant and to me, personally, quite necessary. I’m still working on it. Learning to be aware of the experience of others. Learning to act on that awareness in an appropriate way. It sometimes feels a bit complicated; there is a lot to notice. The word itself tends to be my guidepost, and my map. “Considerate”. Consider it.

When I miss, I try again.

Today is a good day to consider that we’re all in this together, each having our own experience. We all value being heard. We all value a moment of consideration. Today is a good day to practice treating myself, and the world, truly well. Consideration is a good place to start. Today is a good day to change the world.

*A footnote this morning, and an interesting coincidence; I was enjoying conversation and espresso with my traveling partner before I head to work, and he shared an article with me. Why am I taking time to add this footnote, and this link? I’m adding it because it is relevant, or seems so to me, to this morning’s post on Consideration as a value; each of the individual intimacy impeding conversation stoppers discussed in the article could be resolved, eased, addressed,  or done away with entirely through well-applied, and consistently practiced consideration of one’s loves. Just saying. If nothing else, the article is to-the-point and very clear in spelling out some critical fails in relationship dialogues that I know I, myself, will be working on most diligently – love is too important to fail on the stuff that is easy to change. 🙂

Before we get a lot farther, I’ll say first that I am not holding any significant credentials in linguistics, semantics, or language.  All views expressed are those of… me. Just me. My thoughts. My observations. My judgement. My bias. My baggage.  All filtered through my own experiences, my perspective on life, love and the world, my history as a human being, my education – and lack of education, the reading I have done, the consideration I have given all these things, and finally assembled as neatly as possible as a string of words in a row, hoping to capture what I think I mean to say, to share with you.  Ready? 😀

There is more to a sunny day than meets the eye; what we see is rarely all there is.

There is more to a sunny day than meets the eye; what we see is rarely all there is.

I say a lot about words. I do so using the words themselves. I share my thoughts using words. I share most of my emotional experience using words; the portions of that shared wordlessly, through non verbal expression of feelings, is not very precise and easily misunderstood or taken personally by others. I recall things that happened before now using words. Words are the building blocks of my poetry, my captions, my titles, and my jokes. Words are what I use to write love notes, and consumer feedback, to express my delight and my outrage. Words deliver hurts and words nurture my soul. Words define experiences, things, and people and they describe places, events, and experiences. Words tell profound truths, and also terrible lies. Words expose what is real, and are also used to attempt to hide what is real, or alter a shared understanding of reality. Words are used to threaten, to coerce, to convince, to persuade, to celebrate, to mourn, to immortalize, to laud and to punish. Words  are powerful. Powerful like Science. Powerful like magic. We are words as much as we are stardust; even Carl Sagan used words to communicate what he understood about life, the world, and the heavens.

I giggle to myself, at least once or twice, when I read books about words. There’s just something about it that tickles me.

A former partner, years ago, once firmly advised me in a moment of strife, that it ‘didn’t count’ if I had to be told what he wanted to hear; that soothing words, comforting words, romantic words, supportive and nurturing words only count if the speaker comes up with it on their own, from their heart, with no help from the person who needs to hear the words. An interesting thought that relies heavily on the assumption that love allows us to read minds. lol I didn’t find it to be an accurate statement, myself, but I admit it was entirely true of my then-partner, who would reliably refuse any comfort or positive outcome from any words he’d been party to suggesting might be good ones to use in that moment. (It seems unnecessary to point out the choice being made there.)

Another partner once merrily chuckled playfully (in a moment of domestic-not-quite-bliss, having provided a clear specific suggestion of the words he most needed to hear in that  moment, and having heard them repeated back by his loving partner, in  sincere and heartfelt way, honest in intent, although lacking in originality), “Knows answer when told…” and as though taking notes or scoring a test, made a check mark in the air, over an imaginary clipboard. We cracked up together; it’s a moment and phrase that still sticks with me, and not solely because of shared military experience (from whence that quote comes, actually being used in military scoring of certain task testing). He makes different choices, and he felt cared for because he used his words – and so did his partner.

I’m just saying; words matter. They matter when we listen, and they matter when we speak.

The words themselves are less about originality than the order in which they are used (there are only so many to choose from, and some are favored above all others; obviously, originality is not the issue), and whether we feel heard when we use them, or how we are spoken to when we hear them (which is a very subjective thing that I suspect we entirely make up in our heads as we go).  There are books about words, about how to use them, what they mean, and when they are most effective for what purposes. There are books that simply list words other people have said, in the order spoken, and saved on record as being peculiarly useful, effective, amusing, or historically noteworthy. There are letters and love notes of such awesome craftsmanship that their emotive power is preserved in them, and they are referenced and shared down through the years as culturally significant.

I’m just saying; words really matter – enough that it is worthwhile to put some thought into the words we choose.

Nearly every moment of wonder, of love, of delight in my own experience has been framed up in words, if not in the moment, sometime soon after when I share it with someone else.  The profound love I share with my partners is expressed to me wordlessly, often, sure – but as often, my recollection of expressions of love is in words. The eager goals of our future are shared in words. The challenges we face together, or with each other, are discussed in words. My own growth and progress with myself as a being is shared with my loved ones – and in my blog – with words. My annual review at work is in words. All the words – each of them – bring a shade of meaning to my experience I might have lacked, or understood differently, without the words, themselves. I can tell someone I love them without using words…but I can’t tell them why, or how much, or explain the nuances of what they mean to me, without the words. I can cry out in pain or anguish without words, but I can’t tell someone what is wrong, or ask for help, without the words to do so.

So…yeah. Words matter…but…they’re also totally made up. Seriously. We created each one, and someone (generally the person who thought up the word, at least initially) also made up what the word will be used to convey. What words mean changes over time, with usage. Some people are very precise with their use of language. Some people are sloppy and careless to the point of being difficult to understand, or communicating something more about their education, or character, through their choices with words. There are so many words, and still there are ideas for which no word yet exists; new ones come into being all the time. We communicate and we miscommunicate using words. Words we made up. Words we defined. Words we choose to use. We create our own experience, and color it, with words we choose ourselves, and call our ‘thoughts’; we behave as though they are real, and follow them with our actions and moods until they are.

Yes. Words matter, and I’m just saying; use your words. Use them wisely. Use them with care. Use them, don’t let them just tumble out of your face hole randomly. Use them with awareness that they are easily ‘weaponized’ and awareness that you have the power to hurt someone with words in ways that are not easily healed. We accept that actions have consequences fairly easily; words, too, have consequences.

Another perspective on a sunny day.

Another perspective on a sunny day.

Today is a good day to use kind words. Today is a good day to express myself with great clarity. Today is a good day to hear what is said, and to take a moment to understand the words. Today is a good day to consider my words, and their merit, and to use them with great care. Today is a good day to build truth, and to use honest words. Today is a good day to love, and to say so with loving words. Today is a good day for praise and encouraging words. Today is a good day to contemplate words that convey beauty and words that communicate a better understanding. Today is a good day to change the words.

Better content.

Better content.*

Mindful service to hearth and home.
Mindful service to community and the world.
Mindful service to self, heart and soul.
Mindful will and wide-eyed wonder.
What would it look like to be the nicest person in the room?
Taking care.

One autumn moment worth pausing for.

One autumn moment worth pausing for.

*What started out simply as notes, taken in passing, sloppily written on the palm of my hand, standing in the cold, became a moment to cherish, to savor, to enjoy fully present…and lacking the words to truly share the moment, I shared the notes instead. 🙂

Yesterday was…difficult. Every boundary I have in the work place was stomped on. Every inconvenient moment was as inconvenient as seemed possible. Things broke. Things went wrong. Timing was poor. Sometime shortly after 2pm, the day took a hard right turn toward being a totally shitty experience, and it was downhill from there. Looking back I can see how much pain had to say about how the day went; I was off my meds. :-\  Not on purpose, let me be clear about that, it was mischance that led to me missing my afternoon painkiller, and there wasn’t a thing I could do about it. As I got further and further from the last helpful moment provided by my morning medication my mood got worse. I didn’t really make the connection between my shitty mood, my challenging experience, and the lack of pain relief until I was almost home in the evening. I might have behaved differently if I had.

Thankfully, new practices aplenty did actually work – although in the moment I wasn’t necessarily certain of that, or appreciative; I felt taxed, overburdened, and aggravated and couldn’t see much past those feelings. I alerted my partners before I got home that I was in a state. They were careful with me when I got home. I took my medication, managed needed calories, shared hugs and some quiet conversation, and took care of me. The evening ended well – no tantrum, no tirade of bitter invective, no total loss of inhibition resulting in vile things being said that just didn’t need speaking… it was a fairly ordinary quiet night, each of us involved in our own experience, gentle on each other. I call it a success, after the fact, regardless how it felt in the moment. 🙂

We view "reality" through the veil of our own experience, our thoughts, our very individual understanding of what we see.

We view “reality” through the veil of our own experience, our thoughts, our very individual understanding of what we see.

I slept well, woke to the alarm, and feel okay this morning. I am sometimes both irritated and astonished at how much my physical experience weighs in on my emotional life: well-managed blood sugar, medication, pain management, enough sleep, good hygiene, regular exercise, a satisfying sex life… these things may very well have more to do with my general emotional climate than any moment of my life, however delightful or traumatic, actually has long-term. That seems odd to me, and worth being mindful of.

In the background I’m fussing with something that bothers me; it’s a small thing. I shared something emotionally relevant with a partner…and wasn’t heard. Or didn’t feel heard. I said words, and the reply clearly indicated a lack of understanding of the significance of what I shared, to me. Trying to explain started things down a difficult path, so I let it drop; few things are less pleasant than romantic tension over something that feels incredibly powerfully positive. lol. Not worth it. Still, my brain returns to the moment again and again, wondering how it is that the significance – or at least some appreciation of the observation, if not actual understanding – was so easily missed. It left me feeling somewhat disconnected from my partner in the moment. I am often surprised at the subtle differences in what I value and understand as valuable, and what others around me find similarly worthy. Still…it was only a moment.

It’s another day. A new one. Today is a day that holds all the potential of any day. Today is a day open to possibilities and filled with opportunity. Today is a day when a smile really matters, and a vote counts. Today is a day to speak simple truths, and recognize that whether someone is listening isn’t relevant to what is spoken, itself. Today is a day to listen carefully. Today… is a good day.