Archives for category: Summer

…Some journeys we don’t share so much…maybe not at all. Some journeys begin together, and end alone. Some journeys we don’t particularly want or need to share, but find ourselves in the company of others along the way. Even love works in this way; sometimes shared, sometimes less so. Sometimes love is convenient, sometimes it isn’t.

I sip my coffee this morning, thinking about love…and thinking about solitude. It’s an interesting private dialogue with the woman in the mirror. This morning there are no tears, but also no noteworthy joy. I exist in this moment, with coffee, without company. I’m okay solo. I miss the immediate presence of love. These things exist together, and dissecting them does not improve my perspective on my self, or this moment, and instead I choose to simply be, to comfortably exist with myself, without judgment – without questions (at least for now).

One of the challenges life’s curriculum offers me, personally, is the chance to accept on a deeply compassionate and understanding level that I am not always who/what can provide what my partner needs in a particular moment. “Too tired” for one activity (with me) may not be “too tired” for some other activity, with some other human being. “Too busy” to cross town to hang out with me, to make love, to share time, may not be “too busy” for adventure elsewhere, with others. This isn’t a criticism, and when partners choose something (or someone) other than each other, that’s not a criticism, either.  Giving each other room to grow, and to live our lives fully, requires that we also be open to it when our partners make the choice to do so. There are practices involved; it’s easy to become swamped by insecurity and doubt, or for emotional needs left unmet (and undiscussed) to fester. Taking my partner’s fun elsewhere personally would quickly result in feeling deeply hurt to be “left” alone – in spite of enjoying my solitude, and choosing it. It’s a puzzle best solved with open communication, compassion, loving kindness, self-awareness, and being very present and connected when we spend time together… and also being very much present with myself, when I am alone. That one’s harder. ๐Ÿ™‚ There are verbs involved. My results vary.

I ended the day yesterday with a migraine. That sucked. Getting there wasn’t bad… I enjoyed a lovely breakfast with my visiting friend and my traveling partner (who are also friends), before we each went on with our own days. I hung out awhile with friends closer to home afterward, for a short while, before spending a considerable time quietly at home tidying up. That doesn’t sound at all adventurous, I know, and it wasn’t… but it was quiet, gentle time, simply being. I hadn’t actually been fully alone in days, almost a week. I didn’t even turn on the stereo, so deeply satisfying the silence seemed to be. Some hours later, the headache arrived, and some visual and auditory weirdness, along with the nausea. Nothing much helped, besides more quiet, and some darkness. Reading made me seasick. Any sort of video screen was entirely out of the question. I laid down with my headache in the darkness and just rested. Morning arrived – no headache. I’m happy about that. I don’t have migraines often, and I’m happy about that, too.

Today? I’ve no idea what today holds, other than one scheduled appointment right at noon time. The forecast suggests a hot day. I find myself wishing my appointment time were earlier… the sort of wishing that can quickly become irritation and discontent, the kind that rests in my thoughts as a sense of dissatisfaction. I breathe, and let it go. When that actually works well, I feel a certain sense of wonder and achievement; it’s been a big deal to learn to choose with greater care which thoughts to give substance, which to let go.

I remind myself the migraine last night may have the potential to affect my mood today, and promise myself very attentive self-care. It’s a commitment to doing my best, and also a commitment made with real affection. I’ve come along way with the woman in the mirror, and with some practice(s), we’ve got this. ๐Ÿ™‚

Today is a good day… for… something. I’ll figure that out as I go along. I’m having my own experience… there are verbs involved. ๐Ÿ™‚

This morning I woke contented and relaxed at a very ordinary 5:00 am. An hour later, sipping my coffee, innocently enjoying a lovely quiet moment, I recall that my visiting friend leaves today, and feel the excitement of my traveling partner having returned…and realize I have a job interview this afternoon, too… oh, and the housekeeping needs some attention… and I need to do laundry… crap! I haven’t yet checked the weather! Is it going to be very hot today? It didn’t take long for my sweet moment of contentment to expire, and for anxiety and tension to wash over me.

One new day, approximately infinite possibilities.

One new day, approximately infinite possibilities.

Initially, I blamed my sudden tension on the irritating sound of a freight train idling on the track, not too far away (near enough to be annoying). It wasn’t honestly that at all. I had drifted from now into the future – a place where anything can happen – because nothing has happened there yet.

I breathe. Relax. I inhale deeply, feeling my chest tighten as it expands. I exhale fully, feeling my body relax, my shoulders ease themselves back down where they belong. I am okay right now. There is literally nothing wrong (right here, right now, in my own experience). It wasn’t even a bunch of scary details that got me, which frustrates me some; it was all utterly commonplace, and pleasant or neutral in emotional content.

My visit with my dear friend has been lovely. It’s time for him to return home, to his life, his family; he misses his love, and his children. There’s nothing about thatย which is either noteworthy or stressful for me. My traveling partner’s safe return home is a matter of pure joy and great delight; I’ll see him soon, before he departs again, for new adventures elsewhere. The job interview? Okay, there’s some small amount of natural (healthy?) stress to that; it’s time to get back to work, and it matters to me to do my best. Still, hardly the sort of thing that should be permitted to blow the morning.

I wonder if I could get through life without using the word “should”? I smile to myself, aware that as words go, “should” has far too much power over my experience. “Should” is a word that signals an assumption, or an expectation, potentially one that defies reality entirely – and still guides my thinking or behavior. Powerful – and generally not in positive way. “Should” holds me back, keeps me down, causes me to keep doing something that doesn’t work at all, prevents me from walking away from bad situations… I’m trying to think of a situation in which “should” has served me well, in some positive way… I struggle to do so. “Should” is often the word I turn to specifically when life is not cooperating with my thinking. (I wrote more about this, but it got twisty and confusing. Perhaps another time. I don’t like “should”.)

The cool morning has my attention once again. Birdsong, the sounds of traffic nearby; it’s a noisy morning. Tuesday? The community landscapers will be working, so I try to appreciate what quiet there is now; it’ll be noisier later on.

Strange morning. I feel a little sad to say good-bye to my dear friend – and eager to have my routine back. ย I feel eager and joyful to welcome my traveling partner home – and a little “pressed for time” knowing he will leave again fairly soon. I feel hopeful and self-assured about the interview this afternoon – and a little anxious about the outcome, in spite of myself. The complex back and forth of my emotions will benefit from more time meditating, today, and taking especially good care of myself.

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One day of many. The plan is not the experience. The map is not the world. Today is a good day for moments, for kindness – and for changing how often I use the word “should”. ๐Ÿ™‚

We become what we practice. I still suck at listening, by the way; it takes more than a day with a friend to gain, hone, refine, and maintain a new skill. It would be quite silly to expect things to be easier, faster, or simpler; practice is a verb, sometimes of the sort that must be used daily. So… I keep practicing.

recommended summer reading

Recommended summer reading.

I had a wonderful day listening. Talking too much. Being fairly wrong, fairly often. Being insightful once in a great while. Laughing. Sharing. Connecting. It was a first-rate good day with a friend. ๐Ÿ™‚

Today? More listening. More practicing. More sharing. A drive to the beach to beat the heat, perhaps… There are choices, opportunities, and verbs involved. My results will quite likely vary. ๐Ÿ™‚

being a beginner has some distinct advantages

Being a beginner has some distinct advantages.

The sky lightens slowly beyond the trees. Hints of peach and salmon hues this morning, nudging away a vaguely violet fading night sky. There is bird song. There are crows handling their project planning in coarse calls across the meadow, back and forth. Unnecessarily loud runners pass by, enjoying unnecessarily loud conversation; it is too early to regale the sleeping community along the park with discussion of conference calls gone bad, but… it happened anyway. lol I want to shout out the window “use your inside voice!” or… something ruder. That’s not necessary either, and the runners run on by withoutย suggestions from me.

I sit smiling, sipping my coffee as the dawn reveals the new day. Life feels easy. I enjoy the feeling without insisting life remain “easy” – impermanence is also a thing, and life is unlikely to comply with my expectations or be ruled by my assumptions. It’s enough to enjoy this moment now; there will be others. ๐Ÿ™‚

It's not necessary to chase the dream; we become what we practice.

It’s not necessary to chase the dream; we become what we practice.

Today is a good day to practice the things that work best – and the things I want most to improve upon. Today is a good day to enjoy the woman in the mirror, and all her beautiful humanity. Today is a good day to listen, to share, and to savor life. It may not change the world – but it’s likely to be a lovely day. ๐Ÿ™‚

This morning I woke too early. I say “too early” because I definitely haven’t had enough sleep. The heat made sleeping difficult last night, and although I stayed the course with evening routines intended to coax sleep from the most energetic monkey mind, nonetheless I was still wakeful well past my usual time for sleep. I don’t mean to complain, I’m just observing that my short night was the result of challenges at both ends. This morning I woke, shortly after 3:30 am. I thought I might go back to sleep… I didn’t.

The evening ended on a high note, great conversation and a full moon rising beyond the trees.

The evening ended on a high note. The heat of the day was irrelevant.

My restless mind wasn’t even certain of coffee, and I suppose considering the early hour, that’s more reasonable than not. I held on to the chance I might return to sleep for some time, before yielding to the imminent dawn and making that first cup of coffee. I have my coffee, too hot to drink. I’ve done yoga. Taken time for meditation. Medicated quite sufficiently to address any anxiety or pain. Now… I wait for the dawn. I don’t mean to be waiting for it, but I find myself checking and re-checking the sliver of light appearing at the edge of the skyline, watching hints of pink, peach, and gold begin to crowd out shades of blue, gray, and purple as the night retreats. I feel a bit as if I am ‘waiting for the sun’. I’d rather be sleeping.

...I could go for my morning walk early...

…I could go for my morning walk early…

I test my coffee with a cautious sip. Still too hot to drink. Like the night, mocking my sleep last night with the lingering heat of summer, my coffee mocks me this morning… I’d very much like to drink my coffee now. It’s very much still too hot. The morning temperature in the apartment feels cool… well, cooler. Mostly cool. The thermometer tells me it is still 70 degrees (F), much warmer than this hour of the morning generally is (more typically between 53-59 degrees F this time of year).

Yesterday's pictures seem mostly of sunshine.

Yesterday’s pictures seem mostly of sunshine.

I pause to wonder why the hell the United States is still using degrees Fahrenheit for temperature, instead of Celsius? (Our resistance to using the metric system says a lot about us as a nation… and what it says about us is troubling.)

The summer garden is filled with things going to seed.

The summer garden is filled with things going to seed.

I’m still fussing about the heat, even though the morning air is comfortable and pleasant. It’s a distraction, nothing more. It’s not as if I have much to complain about, really. It’s quite a lot hotter in many other places. There are other things to contemplate, to plan, to do, today; a house guest (and dear friend) will arrive later, and my traveling partner will be traveling – after himself having a very short night, due to some commonplace planning/logistical sorts of challenges, yesterday. We enjoyed a lovely evening together, and very much a celebration of sorts. The connected, pleasantly social, time together precedes a week apart. Another. ๐Ÿ™‚ (He does much of his traveling during the summer, and “this too shall pass”.)

I find myself again and again distracting myself from needless worry about my traveling partner byย fussing about the heat. A mostly fairly harmless exchange of stressors, but the risk is that the thing that matters most (my partner’s well-being) is diminished or disregarded by this dodge, and too much weight is put on something relatively unimportant (the weather). ย I pause. Sip my coffee. Breathe. Allow myself to fully recognize my desire for my partner to always feel his best, to be generally content and merry, to enjoy his experience moment to moment – and I allow myself toย experience my subtle concern about the effect his short night may have on his long day ahead. I breathe. I accept my feelings. I smile, reminded how generally competent my partner is, and how skillfully he typically takes care of himself. I breathe. I wish him well from afar, and let my heart move on.

Hours after waking... still waiting for the sun.

Hours after waking… still waiting for the sun.

The sky is already a clear steady cerulean blue, although the sun has not yet appeared above the horizon. Another hot day in the forecast, and I expect real life will comply. ย One win about these hot dry summer days… much less pain. Keeping the apartment as cool as I can, and preparing for the weekend in the company of a good friend I haven’t actually seen in… well… years, is how I’ll spend the day. The short night will, hopefully, become a longish nap, later. ๐Ÿ™‚ (Taking care of myself is a very high priority, and failing to get enough sleep becomes a problem quite quickly.)

I sip my coffee, and frown at the word count. Too many words. About very little of any substance. Have I really spent 700 words bitching about the damned weather? Heat! In the summer! Seriously? It’s a new day. The sun is not yet up. I can already begin again… ๐Ÿ™‚

 

I don’t observe the occasional utter lack of stress in a critical way, and I try to simply savor those moments, delight in them, and enjoy them while they last. My walk yesterday morning was one such experience; beautiful from end to end, with several really choice delightful moments to look back on now as memorable.

That time I photographed a hummingbird... A lovely memory. :-)

That time I photographed a hummingbird… A lovely moment. ๐Ÿ™‚

The entire day was pretty enjoyable. I have no recollection of any difficult or challenging moments. I don’t say so to brag, or to imply that I’ve found some magic cure to being human; I make a point of saying so, because I need the awareness of it, myself. Taking time to appreciate the beautiful day, the lovely walk, the choice photographs, the conversations with friends, birdsong, merriment, a really good nap – all of it – tosses a positive pebble into the vast still waters of my implicit memory, and over time, enough of that sort of thing holds the power to reduce my “negativity bias“, generally. (It’s a great practice!)

These days, I also make a point not to dig around in my recollections to find troubling or difficult moments I no longer recall; the reward for letting them go is an improvement in positive outlook on life. Totally worth it. I can trust that they may surface if/when needed, and that they do not need reinforcement; negative experiences are sufficiently powerful without additional reinforcement through repetition or rumination. I find refraining from reinforcing negative experiencesย is also a useful practice. (It takes much less effort to tear my thoughts away from lingering over what sucks, or what hurts, or what went wrong than it once was; the power of incremental change over time.)

The day ended slowly, a pearl moon rising in a cotton-candy sky.

The day ended slowly, a pearl moon rising in a cotton-candy sky.

Between the start and end of the day, yesterday, life was lived, a beautiful journey was taken, and this morning I look back and recall it a wholly delightful day. Today… I get to begin again. Those beginnings? Not all of them need to be a departure from something difficult, and not all of them are. ๐Ÿ™‚ Some new beginnings are simply next in a sequence of many. I entertain the notion that over time, many more could be delightful days with beautiful journeys thanย were previously, accumulating beautiful memories over time, like vast treasure, held within my heart for safe keeping… shared generously, because in sharing, love becomes multiplied. ๐Ÿ™‚

There are days when I find myself pushing a few verbs off my “to do list” in favor of doing… less, sometimes because I’m just not up to doing more, other times… well… I’m pretty human. It feels good to slow things down and take it easy… or at least, easier. Over the summer, I found myself sometimes hurrying through my walk, sometimes skipping it altogether, not really seeing the scenery, not really hearing the birdsong, sort of stuck in my own thoughts, but committed to a process. This past week, something clicked. I began again. My walk yesterday morning built on that beginning, and this morning I find that I am similarly eager, encouraged, hopeful (hope-filled, more specifically), and enthusiastic about life and the day, and particularly my morning walk.

A tangerine sunrise infuses the morning sky with sherbet shades of orange. I smile, thinking ahead to the moment I will put on my boots and reach for the front door.

Where will the day's journey take me?

Where will today’sย journey take me?

My morning walk does not require a plan – or a map – and I’m generally quite close to home. There are still so many opportunities, and choices, and verbs involved…

Will it be a narrow side trail on life's journey that entices me today?

Will it be a narrow side trail on life’s journey that entices me today?

I think about how brief lovely moments seem, and how endless my sorrows sometimes feel. I think about perspective.

Life's helpful signage sometimes isn't very helpful at all...

Life’s helpful signage sometimes isn’t very helpful at all…

We are each having our own experience. I smile thinking aboutย the sign in the marsh, helpfully provided to caution visitors about… something; the sign points out into the wetlands, and the text is not visible to any human being walking by. It stands in a section of the park cut off from the main trail.ย Willย the ducks and geese find it useful? I think about the metaphor, and I think about the aisles and aisles of self-help books helpfully offered up by one human being or another, who found their own way on a complicated journey. It’s nice to have a map on a journey, an itinerary perhaps, and some good expectations that compare favorably to likely real-world outcomes… we don’t, though, not in life. What works for me, may not work for you – we may approach things differently, and reading about a great practice isn’t anything like practicing it, over time. There are verbs involved. Results do vary. Most of the self-help books, and a lot of suggested practices, are like that sign in the marsh; well-intended, but facing a less-than-helpful direction. We are each on our own journey, finding our own way, doing our own best. Fortunately – and this is one of the easy bits, I find, myself – we become what we practice. We have choices. We can begin again. ๐Ÿ™‚

I once walked the paved trail that is no longer here to walk...

I once walked the paved trail that is no longer here to walk…

We each make our own journey in life. The trail I took before may no longer remain to guide another; I may not be able to walk those steps again, myself. I am my own cartographer, because the path traveled by another may no longer remain to guide me. My choices are not your choices. My steps don’t fit neatly into the steps of someone ahead of me, and are not left behind with anyone else clearly in mind. Still, it’s a worthy journey, and although I am having my own experience, it’s easier to recognize how clearly we are also all in this together, than it once was. That’s a nice change. I used to feel (pretty chronically) so alone… that’s more rare these days, even in the stillness of solitude, and even wading through the worst of the chaos and damage that still remains.

Figuring out the obstacles is part of the point.

Figuring out the obstacles is part of the point.

Choices. Perspective. Awareness.ย Where will today take me?

What will I choose?

What will I choose?

Today is a good day to enjoy the journey. ๐Ÿ™‚