Archives for category: Roses

I’m sipping my coffee and thinking about favorite characters in books, movies, and anime, and what it takes to write a good character, and how the “story arc” of a truly great character pulls me in and gets me invested in the character. I’m thinking about why a good character matters so much. I’m reviewing my own life through the lens of character development, and this journey that is life itself. I’m just one woman, living one mortal lifetime, and honestly I see myself (now) as relatively ordinary in nearly every way. That wasn’t always the case. Dunning and Kruger will have their way with us all. lol When I was young, lacking in life experience, and prone to very poor decision-making, I thought I was the absolute center of my universe, the Big Bad, the main character in every story, and the best choice of human voice to say “all the things”… I was quite mistaken. I grew out of it. lol Reality does not care what I believe.

…Ordinary is okay, nothing wrong with it. “On the average, things are average.” – I’d attribute the quote, but I don’t know who said that (it wasn’t me). I’m not dismissing or discouraging aspirational goals or pursuing one’s ambitions, I’m just saying human primates have a tendency toward grandiosity (whether private or explicitly stated), and we’re mostly just… primates. Fancy fucking big-brain-having apes, that have chosen to build and to make, and have learned to wear clothing and how to set themselves up for elaborate failures. Hell, I’m not even saying so to provoke any sort of change – I’m just pointing out this thing I am observing, while character and character development are on my mind (for no particular reason). I’m not meaning to be at all discouraging of whatever you may be seeking to do or to change, just saying generally we can expect most things, most of the time, to be completely… insignificant and ordinary… in most regards. Our individual epiphanies and fantastic ideas are often pretty illuminations of ideas someone else has already put forth elsewhere, before it came to us. Our triumphs are often held in common with the triumphs of others rather like us. Few of us as mortal human primates stand out in any particular way, good or evil. A small handful do – often in the worst possible ways – but seriously, most of us just don’t, and that’s actually just fine.

Do you earnestly truly need to change the world and need to be known for some special something? I can tell you how! Be remembered. Sounds easy, and surely there are a number of ways to go about it, if you’ve just got to have it. If you are more particular than that, and want most to be known and celebrated for actually helping make the world a better place for humanity, this one is more difficult, but built on the same principles – you simply have to be much more selective about what you do that comes to define you and what you are known for. What do you want to be known for? How do you want to be remembered? If you were reading your life as a story, a novel, or a screenplay, what would be the pinnacle achievement that shows you have grown, and how you have successfully made the world a better place? Can you get there, realistically? Authentically? Ethically? What would your path need to be? What experiences would you have to seek and submit to? What would you change about who you are? You can get started any time…

…Where does your path lead?..

…We become what (and who) we practice.

I sip my coffee and think about my journey over the past 62 years, but more specifically how far I’ve come over the past 15 years. It still astonishes me that I had made so little progress toward bettering myself in my first 47 years – that’s a long damned time to fuck about being a rather terrible person lacking in goals or firm ethical grounding, mostly mired in chaos and damage, and definitely struggling just to survive. I did an unfortunately adequate job of masking a lot of that, and giving a decent appearance of being… decent. I mostly just stepped very carefully around the wreckage within, and did what I could to protect those I cared about from my madness and my inner demons. I lacked trust in anyone’s affection for me, most especially my own. I needed help – a lot of it – and some lucky breaks – and I definitely did not know how to get there from where I stood then. “Here” wasn’t even a place I could envision, then.

One of my luckiest breaks was developing a friendship with the man who would eventually become my beloved Traveling Partner. Life changed enough in some small way that my sense of self was changed, too. That mattered more than I could know at the time, and it took me a long way on a new path. My perspective on life changed. It wasn’t “everything”, but it was a good beginning. A new beginning, and the start of a willingness to consider change with greater comfort, and even to embrace it and to seek it. I began asking new questions. I began considering myself as something other than my own worst enemy. I stopped treating myself as though I somehow deserved the lifetime of trauma I had endured. I still needed help, and I sought it out. I began looking at myself in a new mirror, “changing my dictionary”, and using a new map – one I was creating myself. I stopped allowing the world to tell me who I was, and began working to become the woman I most wanted to be – for love. Now I pursue these things because they are the path I choose. (It helped to have profound inspiration to inspire a new beginning though, not gonna lie.)

Note: it doesn’t require a great and inspiring love affair to embrace change, to experience epiphany or enlightenment, or to choose to walk your own path, just happens to be what got me there.

Another perspective on love – and character building.

I’m not certain why these things are on my mind this morning. Maybe because my birthday is getting closer, and I’m often self-reflective and introspective around this time? Maybe because things have been so good with my Traveling Partner, lately, that I drove in to the office feeling pangs of “separation anxiety” in a way that I tend to associate with “new love”? I smile at the new Hue Forge image he made for me over the weekend – an early birthday gift – a favorite anime character, Dandy, from the anime Space Dandy. My Traveling Partner also 3D printed me another hydroponic tower garden, which I assembled on the deck (this one is mostly filled with strawberry seedlings). I feel very loved. I smile and sip my coffee, sitting with my contentment and joy, and reflecting on how far I’ve come in 15 years. It’s been a sometimes slow-feeling journey – incremental change over time often feels very slow – but it’s my own, and I’m okay with where I am this morning, compared to where I was on any Monday morning 15+ years ago. 😀

Love blooming in my garden; “Rainbow Happy Trails” and “Whimsy”.

I sigh and smile. I feel pretty good this morning, and I’m eager to face the day, and return home to my beloved. We plan to cook dinner together this evening – an experience we’ve been enjoying together. I feel fortunate and grateful, and I sit with those feelings awhile, watching the sun rise beyond the window of the office, and sipping my coffee. It’s not fancy, this experience. It’s not extraordinary – it is, in most regards, quite ordinary. That’s okay – better than okay – it’s the experience I’ve chosen, and a moment in a life I am enjoying, on a path I’ve chosen to walk. Am I changing the world? Not in any particularly obvious way, but I’m changing my wee corner of it in small ways, every day, working to become the woman I most want to be, living a life I can look back on with a measure of satisfaction, and a sense that I am doing better today, than I did yesterday, by every measure that counts for me, personally. I have a sense of who I am, and who I want to be – and that counts for so much more than I understood it could, 15 years ago.

What does it take to become the person you most want to be? A commitment to character building over time, perhaps? A willingness to begin again, many times, over years, definitely. Some frankness when facing the mirror certainly helps. The clock is ticking. Embrace change. Become the person you most want to be! You can begin again, any time.

Oh hey there – you okay? How’s your day going? Are you stressed out by all the horrible shit going on in the world? Genocides? Wars? The possible end of American democracy? The return of fascism? The rise of global authoritarianism? Xenophobia, racism, misogyny, and violence? It’s a lot to consider and to worry about and endure. How are you holding up? What are you doing to take care of yourself and nurture your own good heart? What are you practicing? How are you giving yourself a break from all of that to focus on self-care, and tending the garden of your heart?

When was the last time you set aside all the stressful worrisome details to take a walk in the sunshine on a Spring morning, or sit in a garden watching the breeze stir the flowers and breathe the scent of them? Something to consider – don’t get so wound up in the cares of the world that you fail to take care of yourself. Do something nice for yourself – surely you deserve your own attention, affection, and consideration?

…”Put your own oxygen mask on first”…

Lemon-scented geranium on a drizzly morning in Spring.

It’s a lovely Friday morning. I haven’t yet gotten a walk in, my leg is still a bit twinge-y and aching, but I’ll get to it before the sun fully rises and the heat of the day begins. Yesterday was like summer, and got quite warm. Today looks like another summery day. The garden will love it, and I’m grateful to have the help of the Anxious Adventurer – the lawn is thriving under his care, and I am not stressed out about it. I breathe, exhale, and relax, and chuckle to myself about the deer – and the blue jays. The blue jay that follows me around the garden with such curiosity also appears to be the creature eating my strawberries. lol It’s hard to be mad about it. I enjoy the creatures as much as I enjoy the garden, and I’m fortunately not dependent on the garden to feed myself or my family – I take a moment of gratitude to recognize what a privilege that actually is, even in the 21st century.

“Whimsy” blooming.

More and more of the roses are blooming, and I delight in the knowledge that they will be what I see when I return home. I’ll “walk through the garden” as I come up the walk to the front door. I’m grateful to enjoy the little house I call home. My Traveling Partner puts so much thought and work into making things to improve our quality of life, and even simply to delight me. I’m fortunate to be wrapped in his love. Even in the office, everywhere I look there is some little token of his affection and high regard, from the mouse I use (which he recommended to me) to the little desk caddy (that he made for me) to the earrings I am wearing this morning (another item he made with me in mind). I sigh and smile, feeling contented and loved.

This new day is just beginning. I have choices how to spend my time, and where to put my attention. (So do you.) I could choose to doom-scroll the news feeds, and allow myself to get all spun up over terrible shit I can’t personally change. I could spiral into anger and despair over what a terrible place the world seems to be right now. On the other hand, I could choose gratitude, and allow myself the opportunity to embrace the small joys in my life right now, to appreciate my good relationships, and my good fortune, and to consider what sorts of small things I can do to make the experience of my coworkers, friends, and loved ones better in some small way, even if only by being the best human being I can be, with the resources at hand, and by not making shit worse in the world. It’s something. It’s not even a small thing, if practiced consistently. We can change the world by changing our corner of it. There are verbs involved.

…Speak truth to power…

Choose sides. Choose wisely. Become the person you most wish to be. Practice the practices that nurture and heal you. Follow Wheaton’s Law. Incremental change comes over time, and is the result of so many small choices. Maybe go outside and get some fresh air and sunshine, and watch the Spring become summer? I’m not telling you what to do, I’m just saying it’s a good time to begin again.

I’m sipping my morning coffee thinking about how ludicrous it is that we so often seek to make everything fit into an “either/or” sort of arrangement – two neat columns, pro and con, or two clear choices for or against. I don’t think our human experiences are so tidy and clearly on one side or another of some dividing line. Not at all. We are creatures capable of depth and nuance of both thought and emotion. Our choices are often not so easy, and the problems we face more subtle and complex than a clear “yes/no” decision can resolve. We cheat ourselves and each other when we default to false dichotomies and make believe dilemmas – we often have many more choices on the vast menu of life’s Strange Diner than we take the time to consider.

…I consider our weird two party political system in the United States to be symptomatic of this very human challenge (in addition to being the only likely mathematical outcome of our current election system, regardless how many parties we may attempt to put in the mix). Human beings don’t seem to like complicated decision making at all. What a shame – we have such beautifully well-suited brains for such things. Seems like a waste of our potential as beings.

How are you wasting your potential today? Maybe that’s worth giving a moment of thought to? It’s your life, of course, and I’m not telling you what to do, just saying – you’ve got so much potential as a creature! What are you doing with that? What are you practicing? Where does your path lead?

What love looks like.

I spent time this weekend lingering over love and games with my Traveling Partner, who has been patiently re-teaching me to play cribbage. I enjoy cribbage. I played it with my grandfather. I played it when I was in a warzone (preferring it over pinochle or dominoes). My TBI gives me an irritating cognitive quirk; I don’t easily remember certain sorts of things, and the rules of card games are one of these. If I am not playing a particular game every day, the recollection of the game play and the rules quickly extinguishes, and I’ve got to start all over again the next time I go to play. It had been years since I’ve played cribbage. My Traveling Partner made us a lovely cribbage board. We’ve been playing relatively regularly for the past few days, and I’m enjoying it greatly. Oh, sure, at least for now I still need help figuring the points in a hand – cribbage is a relatively complicated card game – but I’m enjoying the time with my partner, and he with me, and it’s time well-spent. I am grateful he is so patient with me as I relearn a game I once knew so well.

A rose blooming in my garden. A beautiful metaphor.

I spent time this weekend lingering in the garden, enjoying the roses that are blooming, and fussing over the plants the deer have nibbled on. I weeded, and I watered, and I sat in the sunshine. Also time well-spent.

62 soon. Life is significantly less complicated – and less “exciting” – than I once expected it would be (though it often still feels like a lot to manage), and I’m not at all disappointed by that. lol Like a lot of other things, “excitement” is somewhat over-rated (and things are generally complicated enough to feel bothersome), and I greatly prefer joyful contentment, sufficiency, and the kind of broad perspective that allows me room to understand and appreciate others. We’re each having our own experience, and I really don’t have the time to bother with being annoyed by everyone about everything or wallowing in made up drama. lol I do like things “easy”. These mortal moments are so finite and precious.

I breathe, exhale, and relax. I’ve got a couple appointments today, and it’s a busy workday, and there are errands to run on the way home, and… when the hell would I also find time to enjoy “excitement”? Good grief, a pleasant generally routine life is plenty busy already, isn’t it? I sip my coffee and smile to myself. This is a nice moment right here. Good for self-reflection and new beginnings. Good for gratitude and love. Good for putting some thought into decisions to be made and things to be done. There’s no need to rush, or force everything through a filter that reduces it all to either/or, this-or-that, yes/no, pro or con… I have time to think things through thoroughly, to understand more of my life more deeply, in spite of that ticking clock. I have time for myself before I begin again.

There’s time to pause for flowers, to water our gardens, to chase our dreams.

I arrived at the trailhead, sunrise well underway. It’s a cloudy morning, but the sort that hints at a sunny afternoon to come, more than it suggests rain. I start down the trail thinking about roses. Everything is green and beautiful and the air smells sweetly of fragrant wildflowers and mown grass. Wild roses are blooming along the trail.

One of several varieties that grow in the area.

The scent of the roses is particularly delightful and (for me) evocative. I have so many memories that are triggered by the scents of roses. When my Dear Friend died I added a wee “memory garden” to a corner of the yard, and added roses there (not that I didn’t have quite a few already, but these were chosen specifically with her in mind). I smile as I walk; the roses in my memory garden are blooming (well, two out of three). It’s their first year blooming. They’re quite lovely and smell wonderful. I shared pictures to my Dear Friend’s bestie. I know how painful missing such a friend can be.

“Rainbow Happy Trails” blooming

I have fond memories of talking about our gardens together, my Dear Friend and I. I have such memories of my late Granny, too, and my Mother. Many of my memories of times shared with my Dad are also gardening related. It seems proper to honor them in my garden. Memorial Day is tomorrow, and it also seems proper to be thinking of long gone friends, family, and loved ones, this morning. The sky overhead seems somber without being gloomy. I’m not grieving, just remembering.

“Whimsy” also blooming, her very first.

Funny how meaningful roses (and my garden) have become for me. Most of my roses tell a love story through the careful selections, each name hinting at the profound love I share with my Traveling Partner. Tokens of my affection, reminders of how complicated love can sometimes be. I chuckle to myself; my partner cares little for flowers, but loves me so deeply that my roses matter to him, if only because they matter to me.

“Alchymist” blooming in spite of being delicious to passing deer.

Some of my roses have their own stories to tell, having traveled in pots with me for some 25 years before being planted into the ground. Others captivated me so thoroughly that in spite of failures, I’ve continued to replace them. Still others, I yearn to plant in my garden even knowing they may not be suited to the space I’ve got left. lol Funny to be so passionate about roses. I wasn’t always, and there’s a story there too, perhaps for another day.

“Baby Love” blooming first, last, and almost all year long. Purchased the year my partner and I moved in together.

I get to my halfway point with my thoughts. The scent of roses reaches me from some unseen rose on the meadow somewhere. I have the trail to myself this morning, in spite of the holiday weekend, mild weather, and relative lateness of the hour. I listen to the breeze rustling the meadow grass. I am sitting in a low spot a hillside behind me. I feel “invisible” and safe. The busy squirrels, robins, and jays don’t mind my quiet presence. I watch them contentedly as I write, reflect and meditate.

Lovely morning for it.

I let minutes pass, grateful for the solitary time. I manage to miss my Traveling Partner, in spite of enjoying this solitary moment. He is more dear to me than I have words for. My garden is getting a bit weedy because I’ve chosen to enjoy my partner’s company rather than “do my chores” more than a few times over the past couple of weeks. I’m not complaining about that, it’s a worthy choice and the moments in a human lifetime are finite, each unrepeatable and unique. The time we spend together is undescribably precious.

… I smile, thinking about the number of my roses (and roses I’ve had in the past since 2010) that I’ve chosen with my beloved in mind. It’s many. It is, actually, almost every new rose I’ve chosen since we became friends, even before we were lovers, and eventually married. Of the 13 roses currently in my garden, 7 celebrate him (and us). Of the remaining roses in my garden, three are long-time favorites that are meaningful to me for other reasons, and three are the new ones I planted in the “memory garden”.

“Nozomi” with me 25 years, and one of the first roses I ever purchased from rose breeder Ralph Moore directly, though it wasn’t one of his.

I hear voices and the crunch of other steps on the trail. I sigh quietly to myself, sitting quite still for a moment, smiling when I notice that the squirrel nearby has done the same thing. We sit quite still, waiting to see what may come around the bed. Strangers call a friendly greeting as they approach and wave as they pass. I wave back and smile. We’re each having our own experience, but understand each other. We are enjoying this trail, this lovely Spring morning, and the scent of meadow flowers.

It’s a rather ordinary morning. My head is filled with thoughts of roses and the memories they evoke. I sit with my thoughts, and try to work out ways to discourage the deer from eating my roses. It’s quite a puzzle. I sigh to myself and plan to stop by the garden store on my way home, and get to my feet. The clock is ticking. It’s time to begin again.

My Traveling Partner made me more cute 3D printed earrings. These delight me, not only because earrings are the only jewelry I wear regularly, and I get a kick out of fun kitschy ones that aren’t too serious as much as I like sparkly gemstones (more, perhaps). These are wee axolotl and shark earrings that appear to be chomping on my earlobes. I giggle when I see them in a reflection. It’s the sort of moment of joy that is difficult to adequately communicate in words, but lingers and even deepens over time. I smile thinking about them now, the little axolotl’s hanging from my ear wiggling about as I laugh, seeing them in my reflection in the window.

Sometimes love takes a whimsical form.

Simple moments of joy and delight can be savored, and their value is bigger than the moments; taking the time to really appreciate and enjoy such moments helps build our emotional resilience. Don’t hold yourself back – enjoy the joy!

When I got into the office, I sat down with my coffee to do “the payday stuff”, update the budget, look over the numbers, put together a draft of the plan for this pay period, and send it to my partner for a second look and any recommendations to change the plan. We’re individuals – and partners. We have things we’re doing together, and goals, and plans, and things we are most involved in individually, but which also need to be accounted for in the household budget. It’s a shared endeavor, and that feels settled and comfortable. I finish that up and hit “send”, feeling a moment of grown-up satisfaction and preparedness. It’s a very different feeling than “joy” – but no less positive.

“Rainbow Happy Trails” blooming

I breathe, exhale, and relax, looking out the window at the gray morning. Spring in the PNW. lol Gray. Rainy. Green. Cloudy. Mists and fogs here and there on the way in to the office didn’t surprise me. Passing through rain showers was not unexpected. The garden loves these days of soft rains. The roses are beginning to bloom – more roses blooming, more blossoms on each rose. Spring feels so positive and hopeful, and for a little while I forget what a shit-show the world is right now. I mean, are you fucking kidding me with this genocide and warfare bullshit? Have we not outgrown all that as a species? What is our fucking problem? We have the capacity to reason, to plan, to remember, to comprehend, and to love, and yet… we still commit heinous acts against one another. It isn’t something that makes any fucking sense at all. I feel the look of distaste and disappointment on my face. Do better, Humanity.

“Nozomi” blooming

I sigh to myself and let that shit go. I’m here, now, and it is a pleasant morning, and a pleasant moment. It’s enough. I focus on these things within my direct experience, and think ahead to work tasks, and errands later. I sip my coffee, and grin again when I feel my earrings sway, tugging at my earlobes gently. My Traveling Partner’s love in earring form.

I notice the time, and realize that I’ve got a meeting coming up, and it’s already time to begin again.