Archives for category: Roses

I’ll Be In The Garden

May 13, 2013 //

I was pretty happy to see Monday arrive, this week. My weekend was a lot of Sturm und Drang and I was frankly relieved to be done with it. Between my hormones and rampant OPD (Other People’s Drama), the weekend was neither relaxing, nor especially productive, for me. I’m not really complaining; some good dialogues came out of it. (I suppose people also learn something about their driving when they are involved in a traffic accident.)

I have to walk my own path…

The weekend, on the other hand, was lovely and warm and sunny. Every minute spent in the garden was wonderful. More roses open their buds every day.

“Nozomi” (Pink Pearl) soon she’ll be covered with tiny pink buds…

“Nozomi” showing off her delicate blossom, for now just this one.

I enjoyed getting down at eye level with the garden now that the weather is fair and mild, and the ground isn’t muddy. The perspective is different, and I definitely needed a change in perspective more than once this weekend!

At ground level with the vinca, dewy from being watered.

Some of the bold big blooms I am waiting on keep me waiting like an old-fashioned cliff-hanger, tempting me with a hint of color through still-tightly wrapped petals.

Most of the peonies in the neighborhood have opened; mine apparently sense my watchfulness. lol

The roses are lovely, fragrant, and totally showing off.

“Ebb Tide” looking her best.

“Kiss of Desire” is new in my garden this spring.

“Secret Recipe” is an old favorite, and one of my most challenging roses to care for; she’s high maintenance. lol

I can’t take enough pictures of “Baby Love”; cute, easy, and lovely.

The hummingbirds alerted one of my partners recently that I was slow to refill their feeders; one dive bombed him at garden’s edge, as he attempted to relax with his coffee! Hummingbirds are one of my favorite garden visitors, and it delights me that my garden has such wonderful tiny visitors.

I could go on and on about the garden. It is my refuge from every day stress, when I find my mindfulness and meditation practices need a helping hand. In my garden I am ‘here’ and ‘now’ in a very engaged and present and immediate way, and it feels effortless and natural. I don’t mind the challenges in the garden; I understand them. I don’t always understand the challenges between people, and those frustrate me much more than some powdery mildew on a rose, or a slug eating the greens, or a few days without rain. A challenge in the garden is easy, as easy as recognizing the issue, troubleshooting the root cause (lol), developing/determining a solution, and applying the chosen solution. Repeat as needed. Why are people so much more complicated? (I’d shout that at you if I thought it would be helpful… but shouting rarely makes anything easier to hear.) Anyway, we all know the answer if we admit it to ourselves, don’t we? Why are people so complicated? Because they choose to be.

I’m making other choices for myself these days. I don’t always ‘get it right’. It’s not a contest. There is no ‘finish line’. There will be no awards ceremony, no report card, no pat on the back. But I’m taking better care of me, and understanding it more when things aren’t a good fit, or my experience is unsatisfying or unpleasant. I still have more questions than answers…and that doesn’t trouble me, generally. If I’m not stressing the answers, I’m also not worried about ‘being right’, or ‘making it work’. I’m finding it easier, much of the time, to make good choices that are tending to meet my needs over time, and improve my experience.

I suppose there is more…but today is proving to be an odd day. I feel the pressure of ‘things on my mind’ and I am feeling a bit fussy and raw. I have been spending too much time on OPD, a potentially worthy investment in time because one of my needs is ‘harmony in my relationships and a calm environment to live in’, but I ended up doing so almost entirely at the expense of things I wanted to do for me, or with my partners, and I definitely committed too much limited weekend time to it. I am very ready to have some of my other needs met. Today is something a bit new – I’m able to recognize and understand that my subtle shift in mood toward being a bit cross isn’t about what is going on around me right now – it’s about how I handled what was going on around me in days past and that I ‘missed the mark’ on taking care of me in some way. It is also clearly a ‘me thing’ and not about the choices or actions of others in any direct way. (It feels good to have a better understanding of my experience, and maybe to the point of being able to make practical choices to meet my needs as a result.) 🙂

Well, having said all that… it’s on with the day, eager to return to the garden.

Tags baby love, by any other name, ebb tide, gardening, kiss of desire, life, love, mindfulness, roses, secret recipe

Categories Anxiety, Brain Injury, Free Will, gardening, Healthy Living, Logic & Reason, Love, Menopause, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Relationships, Roses, Spring, Turning 50, women

A Tear or Two

May 8, 2013 //

Impermanence

Like a soap-bubble frozen in glass
deep blue in the sun
sometimes a shimmer or a shadow
a change in perspective
suddenly silver like a child’s drawing of the moon
on white paper
a simple blue glass gazing ball
old-fashioned novelty
garden accent
a fragile blue glass bead big enough
for a grown up.

Is it the way of things
to leave?
to be broken?
to be cast aside no longer valued?
no longer remembered?
The best things in life seem so fragile.

I will not see this blue ball again in my garden.
A replacement for another broken ball.
Tears falling.
Each one a precious something
or other
remembered for a fleeting moment of sorrow
to be replaced by another.
Or forgotten.

Another tear.
Another glass gazing ball.
Another sorrow.
Another “I’m sorry”.
Another moment.
Another celebration.
Another memorial.
Another love.
Another life.
Another garden.
…If only my memory were not also impermanent.

The gazing ball, a gift of love, that was broken today.

Tags gardening, gazing balls, impermanence, letting go of the little stuff, love, memory, metaphors, mindfulness, tears

Categories Brain Injury, gardening, grief, Love, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Perspective, Relationships, Roses, Spring, Words

Making a Distinction

May 8, 2013 //

I had some interesting thoughts this morning over my coffee; they lead to interesting discussions over coffee with my colleagues later on. Discussions of ethics, language, and the way we make distinctions between one thing and another. Definitions of terms really matter, circumstances and context make a difference, and every individual brings their own experience, and their own values as an individual, to every conversation. I’m pleased to work with ethical people who are good-natured and compassionate. I learn something from them every day about being compassionate and treating people well. Even when we don’t agree, the opportunity to reflect on a divergent perspective is valuable.

Work in progress…

Yesterday evening I enjoyed an opportunity to hang out with friends we haven’t seen in a while. Good people. Kind people. I didn’t want to be tired at the end of the evening. This morning I woke with thoughts of ‘going home’ to other old friends, reconnecting with other people supremely dear to me. I will, sooner than later, but perhaps not as soon as I would like to. I keep contemplating the urgent importance and value of connections…friends, lovers, family…even strangers crossing my path in some unexpectedly serendipitous way…my most cherished memories are almost all memories of some connected moment. I want to put more attention on those connections, build them and invest in them with effort and will, not just haphazard circumstances and fond memories. I think I’d like to make a point of visiting a far away friend or family member at least once a year. It seems too important to waste more time with ‘oh, we’ll see each other again, eventually…’ – because maybe we won’t if I take that approach? Our mortal time is finite.

Afternoon thoughts are different than morning thoughts… there was something to say yesterday, and now it is long forgotten. I did get some pictures…

Blackberries have begun to bloom…and I must have taken a dozen pictures, not one came out clear and sharp. lol

A grand old oak stands in the sunshine along my journey.

…a small wilderness along the way, so fragrant on a warm spring afternoon.

Bold and lovely, the peonies are opening.

Even humble chives show their best colors in the afternoon sunshine.

The light is different in the morning…and at twilight…and at midday. I see different things. I think different thoughts. Today I am awake and aware, without drive or purpose beyond being in the moment. A lovely quiet morning, meditation and a latte, and then with time slowed down to the moment, I went into the garden to water and see the sunshine at dawn. It isn’t a sunny morning, at all. It is gray and overcast, and the light is so different, filtered, soft, and muted. Still a delight to my senses, and I happily watered the potted roses, giving each a good drenching. Again this year I struggle with powdery mildew – and in the Pacific Northwest that’s an annual event. Spring will harden to summer, and new leaves will unfold and the roses will continue to bloom; for now, many of the more delicate varieties have that powdery menace as they fatten their buds for the first flowers of the year. I love each rose nonetheless, and the stories they have to tell of my life and loves: Sheer Bliss, X-Rated, Magic Carousel, Kiss of Desire, Nozomi, Secret Recipe, Baby Love…they each have a page or a paragraph, meaning that goes beyond flowers.

‘Baby Love’ this morning.

The garden path and ‘Splish-Splash’, my oldest potted rose.

So lush in spring, my garden, my paradise…

After the peace of the garden, the walk to work was calm and serene, and a continued sensuous pleasure. I feel good today. It’s the rare morning that I don’t feel pain. It’s easy to enjoy the details and the surprises in the world around me when I don’t hurt. I see more. I think less. It is easier to simply be. I found myself rather puzzled at one point, contemplating the number of times I have been chastised as a child or criticized as an adult, for the pleasure I get from being still… no wonder it was hard to find peace and balance! I was being continuously coached to give up the very thing that provides me the opportunity to find those things! 🙂 I don’t feel like I am searching for peace and balance, anymore. I feel like I am building them, within my own experience.

Someone else building peace and balance along their journey left this behind for me this morning…

Tags being, coffee and conversation, ethics and language, mindfulness, powdery mildew, roses in spring, turning 50

Categories Brain Injury, Free Will, gardening, Healthy Living, Logic & Reason, Love, Menopause, Mindfulness, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Relationships, Roses, Spring, Turning 50, Uncategorized, women

Birdsong and Roses

May 7, 2013 //

I woke to a brand new day, this morning. I slept well and deeply – if you have a sleep disorder, or anxiety, or suffer from ‘existential dread’, or struggle with your person demons in the wee hours before dawn, you already know what a good night’s sleep can mean for the dawn of a new day. If you don’t, please take a moment to appreciate the delight and power of good sleep. 🙂 Yesterday now feels like…well…yesterday. That’s nice. It wasn’t so long ago that a day of fighting hormones and tears would have lingered, mingled with regret and frustration, and become a thing all its own. It was a gentle life lesson, as life lessons go, and a good way to really highlight the power of mindfulness in my life. I’m ok with that.

It has been a mindful morning, so far, and a lovely one. I feel calm and balanced. I enjoyed the leisurely start to the day, and delighted in the brief, sleepy ‘good morning’ of a lover wandering through the kitchen, only to remark further “I’m going back to bed, I’m not ready to be awake yet.” Warmth, and love, and tender consideration shown in his effort to wake early enough to chill together a few minutes were as meaningful as if he had actually been ‘ready to be awake’. I smiled for a long while after I heard his footsteps heading down the hall, and the quiet click of the door as he returned to the land of dreams.

Another rose blooms…and even the bugs are happy; this one must be tasty.

The walk in to work was one more delight this morning, sunny, mild, and the air is filled with the scent of flowers and the sound of birdsong… easy enough to photograph flowers, but try as I might, I can’t capture birdsong in a picture.

New life – potted annual flowers reaching breaking through the soil.

My garden is always the first stop on my commute to work. New seedlings reach for the sun from pots along the walkway. “Baby Love” keeps right on blooming. All the roses are fat with buds now, and beginning to open.

“Baby Love” blooming first, and likely all through the summer and into fall.

So, here it is Tuesday, and the smile I am wearing matches the song in my heart. It’s a very nice feeling – and if I could I would share it with the whole world. There’s entirely too much misery, more than enough to go around, and too many people getting more than their share…but I am learning, too, that we each have to walk our own path, find our own way, and create our own solutions, however much we think we have ‘figured it out’, it is always entirely individual and unique to who we are, and we can only share our lives and successes, our ways and understandings, with people who choose to share them. 🙂

Oh, and…

Wild roses are blooming.

Tags a brand new day, hello love, hormone hell, hormones and madness, I never promised you a rose garden, love, menopause, spring, words of love

Categories Brain Injury, Free Will, gardening, Healthy Living, Logic & Reason, Love, Menopause, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Relationships, Roses, Sleepless Nights, Spring, Turning 50, women, Words

Sold As Is

May 6, 2013 //

There are no guarantees, right? No promises carved in stone. No ‘happily ever after’. No Utopia. Only people, mostly doing their best, whatever that is at the time. Life doesn’t come with a warranty.

This morning manages to suck just about exactly as much as yesterday was awesome. 😦 Save the labels and bi-polar crap – it isn’t a good fit for me. “We’ll get through this.” Yes, we will. “We’ll figure this crap out.” Probably. Maybe not. Maybe it is the attempt to understand, and caring enough to try, that matters more than succeeding at explaining the challenge of the moment, the hour, the relationship, the decade, or the lifetime? “I love you.” Well, that matters the most. It matters a lot. It will even be the important thing that lingers in my recollection long past this distress of right now. Right now, however, sucks.

Still a lovely morning, and flowers bloom without regard to my mood or experience.

Ok, ok. I know I could get my ass up from this office chair, and find a quiet space and take a few minutes for me… I probably will, too, once the routine of the morning is well underway. During office hours work must come first…or so it seems. I resent the hell out of the perceived requirement to ‘put a good face on things and get on with work’, when more than anything I would like to take time for me. I hurt. I want to take all the time for me; every minute, every hour, every day, until my heart is healed, until I am unafraid, until I am whole and healthy, until love can always find me, and until I can always feel how loved I am. I hear a bitter refrain from my own voice in another life … laughing angrily “how does it feel to want?” It doesn’t matter what I want. What matters is what can I do with what I have?

“Baby Love” blooms. Beauty exists and thrives.

Mindfulness…how do I grasp hold of that life raft right now? What does it mean to feel discontent, dissatisfied, frustrated, hurt, anxious, sad, disconnected, or angry in a mindful way? I know that the mindfulness practices and meditation improve my experience… and that’s completely been driven home this morning. I woke, I showered, I made a latte…and I didn’t take time to meditate this morning. 😦 Stupid choice, apparently. Stuck with it for now, I suppose. Maybe a walk at lunch time… or something. I feel adrift and unhappy. Shit. Welcome to Monday.

…I’m starting to feel like I’ve set myself up to make a series of shitty choices that I can already see are not going to be ideal for me if I go that direction… I feel a bit like I ‘got on the wrong bus this morning’.

All of the potential of spring…still doesn’t count as ‘roses in bloom’.

Where’s the reset button? How do I force myself to choose well, when I really just want to throw a tantrum? I could use some romance right now…or poetry…or something that lights me up from within and puts a smile on my face that can’t be denied or argued with. Is that just a hurt soul looking for a distraction, or something more profound? Oh well. For now, I will set myself aside as ‘not my highest priority’ and ~~go whore myself for a dollar~~ get on with work.

Damn it…I can do better than this for myself…

Tags being and becoming, ch-ch-changes, I can't get no, meditation, mindfulness, potentially mindful, spring flowers

I’ll Be In The Garden

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A Tear or Two

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Making a Distinction

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Birdsong and Roses

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Sold As Is

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