Archives for category: Love

Life will not be argued with on this point; change is. Seriously. lol.

I had plans for the evening, last night. Change, however, is. My experience had a lot more to do with being close to accessible plumbing than a night out, dinner, a show…Change is, and it isn’t always a change we’re happy about. Initially, I struggled to keep myself on track with the planned evening; I had been looking forward to seeing this show, having this night out, since we planned it.  By the end of my work day, I was beyond feeling guilty about ‘ruining the evening’, and just angry, disappointed, and more than a little hesitant to face a half an hour on public transportation and two one-mile walks with the gastrointestinal challenges I was having.  I was also really hungry, rather thirsty, and not comfortable with either eating or drinking water until I could be sure of having a toilet nearby.  It sucked.

The evening was blown. I spent it in solitary misery, my churning guts preventing any real sleep or rest – and oh hey, here’s something I did not know; it’s damned difficult to meditate your way out of nausea, or between bouts of other assorted human primate gastrointestinal nastiness.  Sometimes being human is incredibly gross.  I mostly just drifted in and out of awareness, sweating, and waiting for whatever it was to pass. (lol)

My world didn’t end. My disappointment didn’t destroy me. I didn’t wake to feel that the world hates me for not attending this event.  I’m not drowning in regret or punishing myself. Change is. Sometimes we choose it, sometimes we accept it. Sometimes it is ‘a little from column A, a little from column B’.  It feels pretty good to wake this morning, having taken care of me last night.  My partners still had a great time, and since I didn’t find it necessary to be ‘needy’ while they were out, they probably didn’t have to spend the evening immersed in my suffering – I don’t know all the details of their experience; they wisely kept their distance after returning home, avoiding possible contagion, and respecting my need to rest (if I could). Respect. Nice one.

I can be so child-like and insecure when I’m ill. I take things unbelievably personally, sometimes, and struggle to make sense of a bigger perspective. My partners checked-in on me, via email while they were out, and after they came home, one checked-in on me for real, keeping a responsible distance (passionate tongue-kissing would not have been appropriate. lol). I woke to a gentle email reminder that if I am not well, to stay home from work. Considerate. Compassionate. I like that.

Today is a good day to look beyond the obvious.

Today is a good day to look beyond the obvious.

This morning I woke feeling better, and not just because I’m over whatever the hell that was; I also feel good experiencing my partners delivering on The Big 5.  That’s a big deal.

Today is a good day to take care of me, to be compassionate with others, and to roll with changes. Today is a good day for celebrating simple things and connecting with friends. Today is a good day to smile. Today is a good day to change the world.

Good morning – or afternoon, or evening – I hope that the moment you find yourself in feels comfortable and that you are content, if not generally, then at least right now.

Yes, you.

This post is for you. Each of you, all of you, any of you. Because you are reading these words. Because you stopped by just this once to check out this blog, for some reason, today. Because you’ve bookmarked it and read it often. Because you clicked a link to my blog from a comment on some adult blog, figuring on more of the same, and instead of being disappointed, you’ve come back a few times to read more. Because you don’t even know me, and find value in sharing some piece of my experience anyway. Because you do know me, you know me well, and you quietly read each post, rarely speaking up to make a comment or observe a detail, or offer a helpful suggestion, understanding perhaps that there is a fundamental loss of privacy happening, between you and me, when I write and you read – and knowing me, you understand how vulnerable and raw that may actually feel. Because you know me, not as well as you’d like, and you remain curious and fascinated, and enjoy the vicarious ‘insider information’ that occasionally feels like you know so much more about me now.  Because you’re a troll or a spammer, out there doing your thing, and some one time, some one post, actually touched you – you’re still spamming me, but you made one pleasant, sincere, heartfelt comment that even had good spelling and grammar.  Because you are you, and you are reading these words, long after some little joke of mine has begun to wear thin, or some metaphor has finally be over-worked to death.

This post is for you. Thank you. That’s really it, just a thank you.  I kept a journal for years, you see, and although I write nearly compulsively, and often find I ‘don’t get it’ until I see something in words, I found myself drowning myself in the very words I love so much, and writing endlessly the damaging ruminations and negative thoughts I was stuck on. I wrote volumes. This is the simplest truth, I know; they are stored in a bin or two in the attic, save for some small number that have more meaning, or capture an important time of change. Those sit unread on a bookshelf by my bed, in case I need to ‘check myself’ about who I was then, or what events seemed to be about at that time.  As 2012 drew to a close, and I approached my 50th birthday, my whole experience sort of crashed in around me and I found myself mired in pain and doubt and regret, and frankly unsure that continuing to live had any value at all.  I didn’t really discuss that detail of my experience with anyone. I tried once or twice, and it was quickly apparent that I wasn’t getting anywhere, or making a connection.

Writing in my journal wasn’t helping me, anymore, and I was no longer sure my writing had value of any kind, or any purpose, or have anything of interest to any person. I was quietly planning to ‘check out’. Then… life went from bad to worse. It was all pretty subjective – the factual details of my experience of everyday life just weren’t particularly ‘bad’, not even a little. It was my emotional experience, my personal, subjective, internal experience of ‘self’ that had finally just caved in.  I started this blog then, aware at the time that these could be the last things I had to say, to share, and for me that meant that doing my best to make them ‘worthy’ and genuine and real was important to me.  This blog ended up being a big piece of ‘saving my life’.

This is no longer a salvage operation. I’m building on the best of who I am learning to be, and taking those tools, and experiences, and each day working to be just a bit better at being me, at being the best of me, that I can. You’re part of that. Thank you.

Why am I saying ‘thank you’ today? Because you thanked me first.  Yesterday was an interesting day for that.  I got a flurry of emails about a particular post, and it happens now and then, and this particular flurry of grateful and appreciate words felt so warm and nurturing – not saying thank you would be rude.  Thank you for caring how I am doing. Thank you for finding value in my observations on life, and my commentary on my challenges, my growth, my progress, and life’s curriculum.  It’s an amazing journey, and it matters to me that we’re sharing it.

I hope your today is a success – however you define it – and that your choices are wise and support your needs over time. I hope today the challenges seem less challenging and more rewarding, and that you take a chance on you. You deserve the best you have to offer. You matter.  Thank you for reading my blog.

Like a potted rose slaking its thirst on a gentle rain; I'm grateful.

Like a potted rose slaking its thirst on a gentle rain; I’m grateful.

3.43 miles of steep, sometimes muddy, narrow trails clinging to hillsides, and an early start on the first day of summer; this morning’s hike followed me home in pictures, and recollections of scents, birdsong, and that certain glint of unexpected sunlight reflected into my eyes off glossy summer foliage. It was a worthy choice that tested my fitness and my awareness moment-to-moment. The air was fresh, and although audible in the distance now and then, the world was so remote as not to be a bother, certainly no distraction from the gentle ‘now’ of a summer morning on a narrow and steep trail.

I am aware of the steps I take, and the path I am on; I am unsure of the destination.

I am aware of the steps I take, and the path I am on; I am unsure of the destination.

I’m home. Showered. Relaxing with some reading, a nice cup of tea, and some quiet time to meditate.  As I recall, I am also doing laundry, but it is such a small piece of my experience today, it is easy to overlook the small obligations to mundane future needs.

If someone were to ask me to provide a template for a lovely Sunday, today would be a good choice.  I’d say more…the feeling of it is so incredibly peaceful and lovely it rises to a level that wants to be explained, and explored…but not at the risk of damaging this delicate, tender now, so infused with contentment, satisfaction, and serenity. There are metaphors aplenty in the pictures, and my one moment of regret is that my camera does not also capture the scents of fresh, and green, and dawn, and fragile wildflowers, along with birdsong, and chuckling creek tumbling merrily over rocks and snags, rushing madly to find a calm, still place, too.

My journey continues, a step at a time, and plenty of opportunities to be grateful for a clear path ahead.

My journey continues, a step at a time, and plenty of opportunities to be grateful for a clear path ahead.

Taking a moment for a flower, and a moment for loveliness - when is there not time for beauty?

I take a moment for a flower, and a moment for loveliness – when is there not time for beauty?

...And time, too, for small mysteries, and a bit of fun?

…And time, too, for small mysteries, and a bit of fun?

I value the chance to see things in a new light.

I value the chance to see things in a new light.

Or to change my perspective on something small...

Or to change my perspective on something small…

Open to the possibility of the unexpected, the unusual, and the wonderful.

Open to the possibility of the unexpected, the unusual, and the wonderful.

I happily trade in the noise and fuss of 'the world' for the knowing chuckle of a creek, and the cheeky commentary of birds and squirrels, for a handful of happy  hours.

I happily trade in the noise and fuss of ‘the world’ for the knowing chuckle of a creek, and the cheeky commentary of birds and squirrels, for a handful of happy hours.

So, pictures, and just these few words. Today is a good day to chill, to smile, and to share joy.

It’s a quiet morning, following gently on the heels of a pleasant and lovely yesterday. My mood isn’t as steady or reliable as I anticipate the day to come being; I am considering things.  When I find myself stuck on some detail, forcing it into context, molding it into part of the narrative of the day, of the week, of my life, I remind myself of the recent readings on ‘narrative bias’ and cognitive errors, in general.  I give myself a moment of understanding and compassion; it’s damned hard to let go of explaining everything, and to pursue questions instead.  It’s so easy to be pulled  into drama and bullshit – mine, someone else’s, the world’s.

The loveliness of the day is only a distraction from suffering if we choose to be aware of it.

The loveliness of the day is only a distraction from suffering if we choose to be aware of it.

I saw a meme in my Facebook feed recently, and it was the sort of catchy slogan, delivered at just the right moment for the words to easily slide into the context of my experience, that it has stuck with me.  Of course, after the fact it turns out to be neither new nor recent. “Not my circus. Not my monkeys.”  Still… I find myself delighted by the simple way it conveys meaning.  I like it. I’ll keep it. lol  I’ve found it pretty easily delivers a powerful reminder of the suffering of attachment, of judgement, and of taking ownership of what isn’t my own. Handy.

I am feeling uneasy, this morning. Struggling to find real balance again after rocking my emotional boat in therapy this week, and after a powerful conversation – honest, real, open, and utterly frank – with a lover that changes…something.  For the better? I don’t know. Is it a big deal? I don’t know. Does it really change any possible outcomes? I don’t know. What does it mean? I don’t know. Hell, I don’t even have great questions to consider, yet.  The step forward in therapy is by far the bigger deal, I suspect, but the heart speaks its own language and sets its own priorities, and even there… my step forward in therapy still matters, and remains suggestive of change to come.

What was the big deal with therapy? Well, simply that I am finally able to express my experience as a trauma survivor fairly simply, in a sentence, using words, without collapsing in tears, or being reduced to an animal state of panic, or wordless terror. I used my words. It isn’t more than that, and it is every bit of that, and I’m proud of myself for taking another step forward.  It isn’t time yet to share such a thing with the world.  It’s not ‘for you’, not yet. Maybe we’ll get there, together, one day? Having never just said it, out loud, so simply, to another real human being, I didn’t know what that experience would be like. Hearing the words said, hearing them hang in the silence and safety of a pleasantly calm office, isn’t really describable, either. I cried – healthy tears, honest sadness, regret, hurt, suffering…and more confused and astonished than angry or terrified. Confused that human beings can be so cruel. Astonished that I said words aloud that I had once been assured would result in my immediate subjection to a long, painful, lingering consequence – and nothing happened to me, aside from feeling all those hot tears slide quietly down my cheeks.  Well. Not ‘nothing’. Something did ‘happen to me’. I know – because I made the choice to make it happen. I don’t have words for the happening, and it is a very subjective thing. Worthy of my attention and consideration, and so, this morning, I consider it.

I’m not too interested in feeling sad this morning, which is a bit irksome since I clearly do, now and again. I find myself rather idly wondering how long this feeling of unease will last, and what it will take to drive it away…then notice with amusement that the idle wondering is much more low-key than the one-time state of panic and dread that would have saturated such a morning, as little as a year ago. Progress. Small steps. Good choices. Good practices.  Focused on what nourishes me, and keeps me headed down my own path, toward my own goals, and meets my own needs over time… Today is a good day to be.

I remember a handful of childhood things, memories I feel fairly confident are actual memories, rather than recollections of anecdotes shared by a family member. One of the things I remember is my Granny’s ‘button drawer’ in her sewing room. It was nothing more (or less) than the bottom drawer of her sewing machine table. It was nothing more (or less) than entirely filled with all manner of buttons. When clothing wore out and was cut up for rags, baby or doll clothes, quilting squares or strips for braided rugs, all the buttons were removed and put in the button drawer. There was no order or organization to it. It was a deep, vast, plentiful and chaotic assortment of all manner of buttons, some very old (having come from her grandmothers clothes), and some buttons were so new they were still stitched to cards in groups of 4, 6, or 8, waiting for just the right project.

Playtime

Playtime at Granny’s house.

On visits, particularly rainy days, when Granny was at her sewing machine, I had the entire button drawer for my play set, my toys, my treasure. I strung buttons into long garlands of sparkly buttons, and bracelets of colorful bead buttons. I sorted and organized the buttons again and again, endlessly fascinated by their variety and materials. I could bury my hands deep in the drawer of buttons and feel the larger, heavy buttons that had slowly settled toward the bottom of the drawer. Pulling some strange, previously unseen button from those mysterious depths was exciting.

Building blocks were available for play, too, and I enjoyed them.  I have in mind a morning at play, old-fashioned square blocks, Linkin Logs, and some odds and ends – and a lot of frustration that the pieces, seemingly very ‘regular’ and organized, didn’t work together the way I wanted them to. Unlike the buttons, the clear purpose of each block was both obvious, and limiting, at least for me. I have a recollection of frustrated little girl tears, and a male figure exclaiming with similar frustration “How can  you not like this? They’re building blocks!!”   It wasn’t at all that I ‘didn’t like them’ – but they sure weren’t buttons of endless variety, with sparkles, carved shapes, colorful forms and limitless purpose in my imagination; they were just blocks. Motionless. Massive. Firmly and clearly geometric. Built with a specific purpose. Designed for a singular sort of play. Not buttons.

Although I was already a ‘chatterbox’, I couldn’t express my emotional needs, or articulate my emotions with clarity. I’m still easily frustrated by difficulty communicating emotions clearly.  Metaphorically, I’m still turning building blocks over in my head, and trying to figure out how to make something of them that really sparkles. lol  These ‘building blocks’ are different; values, ideas, principles, boundaries, standards… the decision-making of my life has become the ‘building blocks’ of my future experience.  I’ve got my blocks… now to build something with them.

My building blocks are simple enough, and so far they seem quite sound. My ‘Big 5’ relationship values are my ‘gold standard’ for a thriving healthy relationship composed of thriving healthy individuals. They work for me, and give me room to grow (and demand that I do, because it’s always about practicing). My Big 5 are: Respect, Reciprocity, Consideration, Compassion, and Openness.  Experience tells me that any relationship [of mine] grounded in these values will thrive, and I will thrive, myself.  As an individual human, with my own issues and baggage, and wading through considerable chaos and damage as a trauma survivor, I’ve got a couple ‘building blocks’ that are ‘all about me’, too – how do I guide my own experience? What principles can I rely on to keep me on the path to becoming the best of the woman I have the potential to be? I find that, for now, three very simple ideas are all I need there: mindfulness, perspective, and sufficiency do the job nicely.

8 words, and time and practice to build those basics into a content and satisfied life; it isn’t a destination, it is a journey.  My Big 5 and my basic principles are less a map, or a goal line, and more like… a backpack, base layers, and good preparation, before heading into the wilderness.  Good preparation matters for any project.  Planning supports any endeavor, even when events later stray from the plan.  Good fundamentals result in improved game play.  I could throw metaphors at this all day. I doubt that makes the point any clearer.

Here’s where it gets complicated, for me.  I’ve got my Big 5.  I’ve got my partners.  What have they got? I mean, other than me, practicing my Big 5? We’re all in this sandbox together, and everyone brings their own toys… compatible sets of blocks are helpful, if we’re all going to have a good time.  What happens in that sandbox if I’ve got buttons, and my playmate has blocks? What if someone comes along with an Erector set? Or Fischer-Technics? Playtime just got more complicated; our play sets are not easily going to work well together.  That’s a jigsaw puzzle for another day.

No blocks? How about a wheel barrow?

No blocks? How about a wheel barrow?

Today is a good day to build something wonderful. Today is a good day for kindness. Today is a good day to smile and acknowledge that we’re all in this together. Today is a good day to change the world.