Archives for category: Mindfulness

This morning I woke up smiling, as if still chuckling over a joke I’d heard and found hilarious, even moments later. I enjoy joy. Amusement amuses me. I scrolled through my Facebook feed over coffee, and made a point of just scrolling past the politics, making a point instead of focusing on what I find funny.

Time well spent.

Lunch on a park bench along the river.

Yesterday was lovely. That it was also a work day never really seemed relevant to enjoying the day. This job is definitely a better fit, for me. I find myself hoping I am also a better fit for them, than I was for the last one. 🙂

Summer sky through spring foliage.

I enjoyed the day fairly effortlessly, and made my way home at the usual time with more than the usual excitement; my Traveling Partner alerted me that he would be there when I arrived. 😀 We hung out. He’d brought along a friend.  It was fun and joyful.

More time well spent.

I sip my coffee enjoying the morning, simply. The patio door is open to the pre-dawn breezes. It’s that time of year again; I begin the day cooling the apartment down so that it is quite comfortable and not stuffy when I get home. I enjoy the sound of the wind chime. I think about having a place of my own out in the country. It would be nice if the steady soft roar and whoosh of traffic in the background were not a feature of the soundscape in my daily life… how far “out in the country” would I have to go to escape that? Not that far, as it happens, just in a very different direction.

Isn’t that how a lot of journeys turn out to work, generally? It isn’t that far, but goes a very different direction?

I see the sun beginning to tinge the sky another shade of lighter, peachier-pinkier-hint-of-orange blue. I think I’ll watch the sun rise.

It’s a good time to begin again.

Strange weekend. Pleasant, oh yes, wholly pleasant – uninterrupted pleasantness, actually – nonetheless, it was a bit odd as well. More than once I found myself in a moment that was similar in perspective to peering over a high garden wall on tiptoes, wondering curiously how to get in there, from out here; a sensation and perspective I tend to associate with yearning for change.

I spent more than usual time with my Traveling Partner, but in some moments felt very much an outsider looking in on a relationship I cherish, wondering how it is that it is what it is, and yearning for more – for a deeper more intimate connection between adults. We each play a part in limiting that depth, in restricting that connection. I wonder why we do that? I sip my coffee, and consider it. In the quiet of early morning, there is no cause for discontent, and I decline the subtle attraction of the attack my brain offers me. I let it go. I breathe. I relax. Nothing to see here. Yearnings are sometimes merely… yearnings, lacking any more substance than any other stray emotion or thought in the earliest hours as my day begins. To want a deep connection is, on its own, not a problematic thing. 🙂

I spent a lovely quantity of weekend time simply relaxing, and doing things I enjoy doing: hiking, meditating, exploring new recipes that meet all my nutritional needs, reading, writing, gardening, enjoying the birds at the feeder and the wind chime in the breezes. It was a relaxed weekend of self-care and ease. Still, in some moments I felt distant and hollow… yearning for more… for a deeper more intimate connection… with myself? With something. With someone?

I had, several times, the sort of brief emotional experiences that suggest I am “seeking but not finding” or missing something that is limiting my joy in life. The words “intimacy” and “connection” keep coming up in my thinking, associated with a feeling of “yearning”. What to do about it? If I were in my 20s, I’d figure I “just need to get laid”, and I’d be fairly grumpy and cross about it until I sorted out “solving for X” and met those basic animal needs. I’m no longer sure that it is that simple… I’m no longer willing to re-purpose sex to meet non-sexual emotional needs, but… I don’t actually know quite what it is I’m yearning for. (Maybe it really is “just the sex thing”; over-50 the opportunities are considerably diminished, but my appetite has not decreased – something to look forward to, for those of you who don’t see it coming. 😦 Just saying. Your turn will come, and no words will soothe the ache in your heart, and no lover will be by your side to dry your tears with kisses… and it sucks. lol)

I pause and appreciate how far I have come; I am willing to take time to sort myself out before grasping at solutions. The timing is good for more self-awareness, for deeper consideration of longer-term needs, to learn more about how to best take care of me. Life is a solo-hike of considerable distance (if I’m lucky); it makes sense to do what I can to be well-prepared, and I am feeling a bit like I’ve stepped off the map to stand at an unfamiliar/all-too-familiar trail head, uncertain whether to back up and re-consider the moment – and the path ahead – or to just boldly continue, taking things as they come and hoping for the best.

In the past, these subtle nuanced moments of deeper reflection have led me quickly astray, down dark spirals to some unexpected morass of internal conflict or some corner of chaos and damage held together with ancient rage – mostly, I think, because I did not know what to do with them at all. I would quickly become a primate with a locked puzzle box, resorting to rocks and rage, and hoping that smashing the problem to pieces with my tears would amount to a solution. This morning, I sit quietly, considering the puzzle box, quite content to give it further thought, over time, without being rushed, or self-critical. There is more to know, more to understand, and I do not yet know what I don’t yet know.

No tears this morning. No drama. It was a lovely weekend.

One very lovely weekend.

I still need to begin again. 🙂

It’s early. I woke around 3 am. I napped until shortly after 6 am. I’ve been cranking tunes since then, although it’s much too early for having the stereo on – sort of the whole point of headphones, so… no problem. Headphones it is.

Sunshine streams into the apartment through windows open to the morning breeze, blinds raised. The goosebumps on my arms don’t discourage me in the slightest; it’s the scent of flowers on the breeze that I’m after, and it delights me. Chilly? I would be if I hadn’t put on a sweater… it’s sort of the point of having sweaters, right? So, I put one on.

I caught a glimpse of myself reflected on the patio door, and another as I passed by the bathroom mirror. I’m not yet in the shape I’d like to be in, and my plump curves are a bit plumper than is ideal for my desired longevity and general day-to-day comfort and experience of wellness.  Yeah, middle-age comes with some of that for a lot of us, I suspect. Taking care of my health over time matters, so I make choices that meet that need, including changes in diet, changes in fitness plan, and (at least for now) getting the medical care I need to address longer term concerns about my health.

Professionally, too, there have been (no doubt are, and will be) choices to make that could better or worsen my experience of life, itself, and even my experience of… self.

I sip my coffee – it’s cold now. I’m distracted by the music, and the sunshine on morning dew drops. I’m thinking about how much fun I used to have with the “character building” part of role-playing games; the fun of being able to choose who I would become. This morning I am understanding that indeed, this is a “power” I actually have – we all do. I can choose who I will become! I can choose my hair color, the clothes I wear, what words and phrases and style I express, and what qualities I will embrace… I create my future “back story” with the things I choose to do today… I can practice different behavior, learn different thinking, and literally become someone very different than I am today. I am already someone different than I was when I was very young. I can do it willfully, through selection of behavior, values, actions… or through mindlessly repeating memes, slogans, and succumbing to advertising and literal “programming” offered by the media. I can choose who I will become – or a persona to live within, like a tiny box, can be provided for me.

We become what we practice.

We become what we practice.

We become what we practice.

We become what we practice.

What are you practicing?

Begin again.

The sun rises beyond the meadow. The dew on the tall grass between the community lawn beyond the patio and the park beyond, sparkles like glitter, catching my eye as it shifts with the morning breeze. It twinkles like a promise of friendly fun in the eyes of a new lover. A curious blue jay approaches the patio door, peering in from his own perspective on the morning, curious but too busy to linger. I sip my second cup of coffee with a contented smile. There’s nothing more this particular moment needs. It’s just one moment, between waking and doing, a moment to be. It is enough as it is, and I am content to enjoy it.

I bloom like a garden flower when conditions are right. This morning I understand I am also the gardener.

Later I will take action, or complete a task, or do a thing, or play a happy song… there’s time for that, then. For now, I embrace stillness. It’s enough.

I woke ahead of the alarm, feeling fairly rested. Within minutes of sitting down to the computer with my coffee, I was sucked into Facebook, and quickly found myself outraged. They got me. lol I put it aside and let it go. Even the most heinous political news is subject to this one caveat, and it can’t easily be argued with; what has been changed, can be changed. As little as that, such a small idea, and I am breathing more easily, I am more relaxed, and I am less agitated. I remind myself that however greedy, vile, callous, or stupid, powerful old rich white men die. (I know, I know, it often seems to take far too long.) Not my usual? Sorry, I’m less pleasant first thing in the morning when I have to face being a woman in Whitemanistan, just saying. The very soundtrack of my experience is altered.

What does “power” look like? 

Damn. Still mad. Sorry… I’ll just have to begin again. lol

Flowers. Raindrops. Moments. 

I take a sip of my exactly-the-right-temperature-to-enjoy coffee. I breathe. I relax. I turn my attention to the lovely evening I shared with my traveling partner and our friends last night. The smile on my face is immediate, and lingering. My posture changes. My breathing deepens and becomes more even. What we fill our attention and our consciousness with really matters. It’s a weird balancing act, too, because some of the vile bullshit in the world urgently needs our attention – all of us, collectively and individually, and turning away from it isn’t really an option… We all still need chill time, and a calm core of inner peace to thrive, as emotionally intelligent self-aware beings capable of sustaining healthy relationships. News media is selling a product, and our outrage is a powerful attention getting tool for generating clicks and views and likes and subscriptions. It’s about the revenue, not the “truth”. I sigh quietly, and sip my coffee.

What matters most?

I decide on a weekend without a lot of “digital clutter” in my consciousness. A hike sounds much better, frankly, or some time in the studio. I smile thinking back on the evenings with my beloved Traveling Partner this week; it’s been a rare joy to see so much of him. I feel secure in his affection, and wrapped in love. It’s a wonderful feeling. I smile, and ponder for a brief moment how such precious fleeting emotional experiences so easily become something we chase or yearn for, upending our lives in pursuit of what is not permanent – and can’t be. I’m glad I’m not doing that, now. I enjoy this powerful emotional moment, consumed for a time by its fragile saturating loveliness. It’s no surprise how easily such things become a perpetual “carrot on a string” dangling in front of my inner Bugs Bunny. lol Aren’t we each fools for love?

“Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day?” (from Shakespeare, sonnet 18)

I sip my coffee, thinking about love. Well… and also the farmer’s market, and carnivals… and country fairs… and rope swings at the edge of local watering holes. Summer. LOL It’s a cooler morning this morning, leading to a day forecast to be more spring than summer. I’m okay with that too. Neither spring nor summer truly have my heart, though I enjoy them while they last. 🙂 Love also has its spring, its summer…

Summer afternoons soon become autumn evenings…

I make a second coffee. The world is quiet, for now, but mostly because I don’t have my music blasting, nor am I cramming digital content into my face holes. There is a whole world of grief, of celebration, of noise, of drama, out there – more than enough to go around. I give up my share this morning in favor of stillness and quiet joy. It’s enough.

Love matters most.