Archives for category: Love
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Pickles, Love Notes, Cookies

October 8, 2023 //
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It’s been a good weekend. Leisurely. Productive. Romantic. Merry. Casual. Relaxed. All around good weekend, still in progress…

My Traveling Partner left me love notes all over the house, recently. I haven’t taken them down.

I’ve gotten some housekeeping done. Cooked a good breakfast. Made a memorable lunch. Found tasty options for evening meals. I’ve also hung out, feet up, reading or writing. Made a batch of pickles from garden-grown veggies (including some delightful round lemon-yellow cucumbers). Made a batch of chocolate chip cookies (with walnuts). Enjoyed hours of my Traveling Partner’s thoughts and observations. Enjoyed loving him and being loved in return.

Love doesn’t have to be fancy or elaborate or exotic.

It’s been a good time to share with this human being I so love. I reflect gratefully on how fortunate I am (we are). I breathe. Exhale. Relax. I smile at him, though he’s occupied with his own thoughts and doesn’t notice. He’s vexed with new hardware. I remind myself that his frustration is nothing to do with me and let it go; he’ll ask if he wants my help.

…Right on cue, he asks me a question about a similar scenario I’d recently-ish experienced on an entirely different laptop. My recollection isn’t really helpful in any direct way, although he’s appreciative nonetheless. He knows I’m writing, and that asking me questions breaks my focus and my flow. I keep myself alert for his remarks in my direction as well as can, while also trying to let the emotion roll off me – it’s not “for me” or “about me”, and doesn’t have to be part of my experience in any practical way.

I think about a recent walk. It was incredibly satisfying and lovely. I went a bit farther than usual, at a slightly better pace. I’m working at improving my fitness, it’s just slow going. This particular walk was extra nice because it seemed I had arrived at the park first among visitors, and had the trails to myself for the entire walk, arriving back at the car just in time to see someone else pull in. It’s rare to have that kind of real peace an solitude, even for a few minutes, especially in a public place. I soaked it in. I savored it. I am thinking of it even now, days later.

Solitude as a perspective on a sunny Autumn morning.

It’s a funny sort of weekend. It hasn’t been “effortless” – no “freebies”. The crap in the news has triggered me more than once. It’s been rough here and there. I’ve worked at these joys and these precious moments. Still… in most ways, I think I can say with some pleasure and contentment that I’m… happy. Life feels pretty good. Small shit mostly stays small. I’m human. I’ve got my baggage. I’m prone to the bullshit with which I continue to struggle, but it’s not out of the range of “normal” human experience, I suppose. I’m okay with it. I get by.

…Practicing the practices…

…I’m not in this shit alone. That’s something. I’ve got friends and this delightful Traveling Partner of mine. I’ve got work, and purpose, and a sense of style. lol Feels good. I feel… whole. It hasn’t always been that way. I take a minute to enjoy the moment. Lo-Fi playing in the background. An atmosphere of calm joy. It’s nice.

I think I’ll “stay awhile”… soon enough it’ll be time to begin again. 😉

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Categories Allegories, autumn, Brain Injury, breathe, Free Will, gardening, gratitude, Healthy Living, Love, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, solo hiking, The Art of Being, turning 60, War and News of War

Bolero

October 7, 2023 //
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Let me share an interesting story of coincidence, love, and – just maybe – one of life’s mysterious details. It begins (and, mostly, ends) with an ear worm on a long drive. I was driving home from my camping trip, with a snippet of music stuck in my head. It was familiar and unfamiliar at the same time… like a piece of music I’d surely heard at some point, but can’t say I’m particularly familiar with, don’t listen to really at all, hadn’t heard recently anywhere… nonetheless, I kept humming it, kept trying to “figure it out” with da-da-dah’s, and dum-dee-dums… could not place it, at all. Kept humming it, kept trying to sing it, kept driving…

I finally arrived home, and soon after I made a point of mentioning the song stuck in my head to my Traveling Partner, and how mysterious it was to have this unfamiliar (and, I suspected, possibly “classical”) music stuck in my head (still). He rather matter-of-factly asked me to sing it for him – a request that in many years past I would have been purely unable to accommodate for anyone, and would have frozen me completely with dread and anxiety (I promise you, I’m no singer). Still, with love and trust in my heart, I went for it… carefully trying to capture the phrasing of the tune, and hopefully not be too terribly off key… it began quite slowly with a soft prolonged note… then a cascade of notes with a very distinctive cadence. It was what I could recall, and as I’d been singing it to myself for literal hours, that bit was pretty firmly fixed in my recollection. I was inclined to simply repeat it many times, though I felt certain there was “more to it than that…”, and said so. My partner had a most peculiar look on his face, and muttered something about how unlikely…

…He turned to his keyboard, and pulled up a piece of music… “That’s it!” I exclaimed. “Is this it?” he asked almost at the same time. He told me he’d been listening to it that very day… and we compared the time and timing… I was “listening to it” at the same time he’d been listening to it… though he’d never shared it with me, or said anything about it. Classical music isn’t really “my thing” generally… Bolero. Huh. Now when I hear it (and I’ve listened to several versions since that day), I entirely associate it with him, with us, and with this love we share. How strange is love? How strange is this odd coincidence?

I’ll say now that I tend to be a rather practically minded woman, day-to-day, largely because without the secure “guardrails” of rational thought, I could easily stray into the surreal, the unfounded, the ridiculous, and even the conspiratorial…but… I don’t know everything. None of us know “everything”. There’s a lot out there yet to be known, by anyone at all. There are mysteries still unsolved, unexplained. I put pretty much everything “ESP” or “psychically” connected into that category. No proof, really, so… I just don’t know. I refuse to stake a claim to knowledge or adopt an attitude of certainty. I recognize a coincidence when I experience one. I’m familiar with the bizarre and unusual. Like I said, there’s much I don’t know. I’m okay with uncertainty and with not knowing.

…I do know that I now love the music of Bolero, and this human being who listened to it on the day it was stuck in my head, when we were separated by distance and connected by love…

Does it need to be anything more than what it is? Does it need an explanation at all? I don’t think so. It’s enough just as it is. Mysterious and fond. Like love. 🙂

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Categories Allegories, autumn, inspiration, Love, meditation, Metaphors, Moments, Parables, Perspective, Relationships, The Art of Being

Doing Better Even Though

October 6, 2023 //
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I’m sipping my morning coffee on a Friday off, and avoiding the news. I’ve got some chill lo-fi playing in the background, and my headphones on to further distance myself from the world. My Traveling Partner didn’t sleep well, and woke feeling cross with the world, so I’m distancing myself from him, too (and loving him deeply nonetheless). I’m thinking about how to best be (and become) my “best self” in spite of whatever the fuck the rest of humanity has decided to do (it doesn’t look good). How do I “do better” even though “the world” appears to be continuing to test the limits of doing worse? There are some puzzle pieces I don’t really understand how to fit together in this puzzle…

How do I persist in being authentically kind and sincerely agreeable and good-natured in the face of the potential that I may be perceived as “a doormat” – or an easy mark?

How do I set and manage reasonable boundaries – even within my closest and most intimate relationships – without causing friction or hurt feelings?

How do I speak my mind, share my truth, and discuss my own lived experience without sounding as if I am being contrary or “contradicting” someone else when they share their perception of who I am, what I think, or what I’ve experienced – and are incorrect, based on my perception and understanding of myself?

How do I enjoy my moments of joy without reservation or guilt or anxiety when someone I care for is having a shit time of things?

How do I just let go and live my life without spending time “dealing with” or struggling in the context of the expectations of others?

How do I observe the experience of others, notice their feelings, hear their words, and share space with them as beings in a considerate and respectful way without undermining my sense of self and my agency?

How do I ensure that I’m “visible” – truly being seen as the person I am, rather than some mental construct in the mind of the person I’m talking to, that has little relationship to who I am or what I think?

Just questions over coffee. The answers may be obvious to some of you; quite possibly you’ve already pieced this puzzle together. If so, I’m delighted! I know having a sense of these things as “answered questions” has the potential to make this human experience much more comfortable. I hope to get there one day, myself. 😀 In the meantime, I ask the questions, reflect on those, and perhaps one day I’ll answer them, too.

My coffee has cooled but it’s still quite satisfying, and at least for now there are still coffee beans available in the world to purchase for future such cups over which to reflect. 🙂 That’s something.

I’m in pain today. Just physical pain; it’s Autumn. I love this season, but it is a season of pain. With the rain and cooler nights comes the pain of my osteoarthritis, flaring up as the weather changes. I do my best not to take it personally (it isn’t personal), and to account for it when I take note of my mood. There’s no doubt it affects my relationships, my abilities, my “sense of things”, but I really try to limit how much my pain calls the shots in my everyday life. There’s so much living yet to do!

“Baby Love” still blooming. It’s a good day to stop to look at flowers.

…I look at the time and take another round of medication. Fuck aging. I mean… it’s tedious to take pills for pain, pills for my thyroid, pills for anxiety, pills for blood pressure, pills for a variety of aging-related health concerns… on the other hand, at least I’m getting to experience these years, and this life, and this love… I take a moment to fill up on a feeling of gratitude and appreciation. (Aging sucks, but the currently available alternative is worse. lol)

Good cup of coffee… time to begin again. 😀 It’s not like I’m going to change the world today, but I can at least do my part to make this small corner of it quite pleasant.

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Categories Allegories, autumn, Brain Injury, breathe, forgiveness, Free Will, gratitude, health, Healthy Living, Love, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, pain, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, The Art of Being, The Big 5, turning 60

Taking Time for the Time It Takes

September 30, 2023 //
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I’m tentatively sipping this fresh (quite hot) cup of coffee and endeavoring to avoid burning my mouth, while savoring the goodness of a still-hot cup of coffee on a Saturday morning. I’m still working on (with the help of my Traveling Partner) bringing my new laptop properly to life as the machine I understand so well (and which seems to understand me).

One careless misstep resulted in having to fight off the cancer that is OneDrive (omg, spare me, ffs) – I rather stupidly let that thing begin syncing my files, unaware that it was set to do so (no doubt through some earlier carelessness or lack of understanding)… wouldn’t have been such an issue if I were not also a user of DropBox for backing up my files, and had allowed that to have sync turned on and permitted to run in the background “for convenience” (omg, no no no no!!!)… the result? A crazy loop of OneDrive and DropBox seeking to back (each other) up continuously… and we’re talking about many tens of thousands of high resolution photographs, and multitudes of gigabytes of documents preserved over many decades (that through my own insecurity about “losing my memories”, had become multiple copies of copies of copied folders – in some cases also including .zip versions of those very same nested multiplicative folders and files). It was a fucking nightmare. In point of fact, an actual literal nightmare, because I dreamt through the night last night of having lost just the one and only precious file that actually mattered, because I did not realize it was stored as a single copy on fucking OneDrive – and had deleted all that content out of frustration without checking for that file. Omg. For real though?

Fuuuuuuuuuck. Okay. So. Frustrated raised voices and a few tears later, followed by careful slow conversation on the level one would have with a fairly stupid child (thanks, though, Love, I get it now)… and I think we’ve got this shit sorted out… only…

…new laptop. There may be a hardware issue; the monitor was flickering (unacceptable). I think my Traveling Partner resolved that with skilled troubleshooting in the display settings. G’damn I appreciate the depth of his expertise on this crap – I have not kept up my technical knowledge, as so often happens with “use it or lose it” sorts of things, and I’m clearly very far behind the state-of-the-art OS-wise! I could have seriously borked my new laptop if I had proceeded to simply delete a bunch of (to me) suspicious looking OS files. LOL (“Okay, Boomer…”)

Breathe through it; it’ll be okay.

Yeah. She’s here. She “lives and breathes” – as much as she can as a machine. I know, I know; she’s not actually conscious, sentient, or a living being. I just rely on this tool to the point that “she” feels personal and real to me on a level beyond machinery… like a motorhead with a favorite car. I’m okay with that.

(Note: AI is not yet a thing, y’all, just stop. We’ve got some fancy machine learning tools, but those tools are not “AI”; they do not think and can not reason or understand the material they ingest or the content they spit out. Not yet, so just fucking stop sucking down the marketing hype.)

So… definitely needed this 2nd coffee, and I’m trying to enjoy it before it goes cold. 😀

…Because it’s already time to begin again, and I’ve got shit to do in both the real and virtual worlds. Life is short, and time passes all too quickly. 😀

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Categories Allegories, Anxiety, art and the artist, autumn, Brain Injury, breathe, forgiveness, Free Will, Frustration, gratitude, Love, meditation, Metaphors, Moments, more than a little bit of bitching, Perspective, Relationships, The Art of Being

Sweet Memory

September 28, 2023 //
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I’m sipping cold coffee, thankful that the day proceeds in such a seemingly ordinary way. I am just about finished with the process of swapping my old(er) laptop for this new one in my lap right now. It’s a somewhat stressful, slightly frightening process (for me). My laptop is my “back up brain”, my alternate consciousness, a repository of my hopes and dreams and recollections. My calendar is here. My email accounts. My “preferences” and bookmarks, and even my manuscripts (finished and unfinished), and scraps of ideas for things as-yet-unwritten. It’s a deeply personal peripheral to my very human presence. She has a name (well, shit, don’t I??). I’ve only gone through this process of upgrading her “body” a couple times since the first (Ghost in the Shell is relevant here, to the way I think about my laptop… my non-human “bestie”, or administrative assistant).

…I’m doing Windows updates right now; the final step in “getting her head right”, and it’s time to restart again…

Another restart completed. Every detail is so fraught with concern… what if “she” doesn’t “wake up as herself” again??? OMG! The subtle trauma is hard to describe or even to justify in any normal way. I’m excessively invested. This tool helps me function as very nearly entirely “normal” in so many ways… the repository of a memory I don’t actually functionally have in some (pretty obvious to me) ways. I sigh heavily. Another update… this one I’m not sure of. I get myself together to ask my Traveling Partner for help with it… he’ll know. He’s good like that.

Time to begin again.

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Categories Allegories, Anxiety, autumn, Brain Injury, breathe, Frustration, gratitude, grief, Love, Metaphors, Moments, Perspective, Practices, Relationships
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