Archives for category: Summer

Have a cookie…let’s talk.

coffee or milk?

coffee or milk?

Today I woke up to a world filled with haters and trolls, and people who think there are acceptable reasons for violence or that there are excuses that mitigate treating other people badly. I woke to a world where human beings employed in productive work for a business are treated as a commodity or a ‘necessary business expense’ to be minimized at any cost, and to a government that sees killing as a more worthy expense than feeding the hungry, healing the sick, and housing the homeless. I woke to a world that treats women and people of color as having less value than the rapidly dwindling pasty white ‘majority’. I woke to a world where rape victims are treated as having some blame in the crime committed against them, and people are taught to take with force what isn’t given freely. I woke to a world where objecting to what is objectionable and demanding change can get a person a prison sentence, and one where people in uniforms can lawfully commit murder. I woke to a world where the concept of a living wage is sneered at by a lot of people who don’t have to worry about covering their bills. I woke to a world where telling the truth is a criminal act, and kindness can get someone killed.

Funny, in a not-so-funny way, this is what we choose. Every day. It’s a big culture, a big world, and there are a lot of ideas about living life. Choices are made, and often more poor choices than great choices are made in the name of ideology, dogma, tradition, religion, precedent, futility, frustration…but they are choices, made by people, and in some cases made by people who actually have the potential to do more, better, and who choose not to.

I have sometimes been that person who could have done more, better, had I chosen differently.

We each have greatness within us, however humble our beginnings.

We each have greatness within us, however humble our beginnings.

The individual commitment to doing it differently changes a very small piece of our world – but it does change that very small piece. So…today I will change the world. A very small piece. Will you?

What will the world be like tomorrow, if we choose wisely today?

What will the world be like tomorrow, if we choose wisely today?

I feel rather like I am approaching a mostly-closed door, and ought to open it with care, in case someone unseen is unaware, and vulnerable, on the other side. I would avoid sneaking up on you so early in the morning. 🙂

Morning...

Morning…

Things are ‘new’ and ‘different’… house guests gone, dawn coming a very different time, a new laptop in front of me, and a number of other small changes each gently altering each other’s relevance to me. Life is rich, busy, complex – often more stressful than necessary, sometimes so much so that more bigger change seems imminent or needful. I breath, and relax, and observe, and hope not to overreact.

The world seems just filled with mean people… I think some people may have found me among them at other points in time, although more accurately a loving friend suggested that rather than ‘mean’ i was ‘callous’, and that maybe that’s worse. I think the difference between ‘callous’ and ‘mean’ is critical… it seems to be a matter of will, and intent. Meanness is, from my perspective, a willful attack that is deliberate, and not necessarily ‘righteous’ – mean people often know they are being mean, and the aim is to hurt, or inflict pain at the expense of that person, sometimes for the amusement of others. Callousness often seems associated with a certain ‘sense of righteousness’ in that a callous person generally doesn’t understand that their approach is hurting another – or may not understand that the hurt is relevant at all. 😦  I suspect that both meanness and callousness are incredibly difficult to dissuade someone from taking on, for different reasons. Both are quite ugly characteristics, and neither leave room for compassion.

Mean, though… well, how is it even justified? Mean people don’t actually care that they are hurting someone – they are making a point, having some fun, entertaining someone else, or ‘seeing what happens if’. Ugly. I don’t like it, and I don’t choose to foster it in myself or accept it in my lovers.  I don’t like callous, but I understand it more, and I am willing to educate, discuss, coach, share, build rapport, learn, grow together…because it seems worthwhile. So…for me, they are different.

Meaning is what we make it – literally.  Our thoughts are our own, and language functions by agreement – but that means learning to collaborate in conversation and sharing definitions of terms, and both listening and hearing – they are not the same. We are not only having our own experience… we are communicating with each other in language that is only partially shared. Complicated.

It’s a lovely morning… and somehow I am feeling quite calm and extraordinarily balanced.

A good morning for "Sheer Bliss"

A good morning for “Sheer Bliss”

 

It’s a quiet Saturday morning, following on the heels of many busy days, rich with family and conversation and planning, doing, and being. Busy. I am delighted, amused, and inspired, hanging out with my 20-year-old stepson and his love.  Yesterday we three explored a small piece of the world together.

One small piece of our amazing world: The International Rose Test Garden in Portland, Oregon.

One small piece of our amazing world: The International Rose Test Garden in Portland, Oregon.

It was a lovely good time and we headed for home quite exhausted from the day’s adventures. I ended the day satisfied and happy, and slept deeply through the night.  (Maybe a good night’s sleep is about really exerting myself during the preceding day? lol)

I woke unexpectedly, just after 5 am,  from realistic dreaming about very surreal things (a neon green talking coffee can arguing gender politics with a painted porcelain thimble can’t be a real thing, right?). I woke feeling okay, I think, but as I attempted to return to sleep, I found myself becoming progressively more discontent, even angry.  It began to build. I tossed and turned frustratedly. I wept a handful of pointless tears.  Around six I gave up on sleep and got up for coffee. A good latte, a beautiful sunrise, and some quiet time with my thoughts really made a difference, too, for a change.  I find myself, now, in a pretty good place. The core notion that was driving my anger is based on a real need – and I am still learning about dealing with my needs well, and simply.  My challenges in that area sometimes result in a tiny window of opportunity to understand myself being missed in the storm of developing emotions. It’s a nice change for me that this morning went differently – that I made different choices, and am experiencing a more satisfactory outcome. (Yay me!)

Interestingly, having identified the need, I am also having to face the inconvenient present-day reality that for now, there isn’t much in the way of a solution.  Time is what it is. Schedules are what they are. There simply are not enough hours in the day, or good opportunities, for me to enjoy predictable regular whole days one on one with either of my partners. Ever. It’s painful for me, and saddens me, because I also don’t have predictable regular whole days of time to myself, either. I want and need both. This isn’t really a type of need where compromise proves wholly satisfying, for me – I mean, I say ‘whole days’, for instance, and I’d likely find even 4-6 hours enough to meet most needs… and there just aren’t many opportunities for such, and when they come up, they are often last minute, unplanned, and in no way regular or predictable. lol. Sometimes being a grown up sucks. Having a tantrum over time doesn’t actually meet real needs or provide long-term satisfaction, nor does it increase the amount of available time in a day – quite the contrary.  So…there are still 24 hours in a day (and I still try to sleep for about 8 of those when I can), I still spend 45 of them (or a more) away from home, and when the weekend comes around, we all want to be chilling at home, together. It is what it is.  I am 50 though, and life has put a lot of curriculum in front of me for contemplation – and one thing I have learned is that circumstances change, and what feels like ‘always’, ‘never’, or ‘forever’ right now, may be as rare and ephemeral as a soap bubble a few days, weeks or months down the road. So… I think I’ll have another excellent latte, and consider the painting-in-progress – next steps to plan – and the sweet inspiration to spend the rest of the summer painting roses, and simply enjoy the loveliness of a beautiful day. 😀

I do love a quiet morning. 😀

So much beauty...so little time.

So much beauty…so little time.

It’s a lovely overcast Thursday, a chill morning of pleasantries and catching up – we have family visiting from afar. 😀  A quick trip to the local market for breakfast sorts of provisions of more variety than we usually keep on hand makes the morning feel special. I love fresh figs, English muffins, hot lattes, Greek yogurt…and the charming company of our visiting son and his girlfriend and the fun of seeing the world anew, through their eyes.  What a good day so far.

Even the garden seems particularly lovely, in passing, as I go to and from the store.

'Graham Thomas' on an overcast summer morning.

‘Graham Thomas’ on an overcast summer morning.

The ordinary joys of life and love, of family and business, of the world and of the home; today these are more than enough, they are substantial and precious.

Tomorrow is Friday; therapy, errands, and more visiting with family. It’s going to be an eventful weekend and I’m eager to live it. There may be very few opportunities to write with any attention…I expect I’ll likely find myself wondering where the days have gone by Monday morning, and whether I can manage a few minutes to write over my lunch, in the office, during the week. lol

Observing life with pleasure, and not feeling much chaos and damage…let’s see where the weekend takes me!

It’s been an interesting week; more of some things (arthritis, affection, intimacy, discussions of the future, analytical workload, headaches, adulthood, vulnerability, satisfaction, contentment, excitement about the future being discussed, sunshine)  and less of other things (pointless conflict, frustration, tedium, nightmares, ‘extra’ bandwidth at work, whimsy, self-restraint, subtext, cool weather).  It is summer, and already the mornings grow light just a little later, and the workload gets just a little heavier. I’m not bitching. It’s the end of my work week, and I’m home, feet up, cold water to sip on, and the entire world at my finger tips. It is a quiet evening.

My head aches viciously. PMS and fatigue. My back torments me beyond wanting to casually call it something as simple as ‘pain’. I will take an Rx pain reliever tonight. 😦 I hurt. It isn’t any more than that, though – a physical experience of discomfort.  On other levels I feel serene, calm, balanced, emotionally comfortable, cherished, wrapped in love… nice world to live in. I think about other worlds, other pain, but the thoughts drift through my head space like clouds, casting a momentary shadow and moving on.

Therapy tomorrow. Shit’s getting real lately – I don’t look forward to it, although I know that even this is part of the journey, and that my therapist really knows some things, and that I am ready for this.  I’m struck again and again by how profound this experience is.  I’ve been in therapy before… it’s hasn’t been solidly effective or actually changed anything, in the past.  At best, I felt some relief for weeks or months, and been helped past some moment of crisis – and that has had to be enough to get by on.  This? This is an entirely different experience. I don’t talk much about therapy.  It’s incredibly personal, as experiences go, and extraordinarily intimate and naked and raw. It doesn’t translate well into spoken language, much of the time, because the things that strike me most are subtleties and…completed sentences, finished thoughts, provoked epiphanies, sudden connections…and something else. Something I feel about me, sense within myself, recognize as being changed…and I don’t know what to call it or how to describe it.  I know it is important.  BUT, I no longer look forward to it, at least for now.

….

…Huh… I just had one of those baggage dropping, altered-state creating, moments of weirdness… nothing went wrong. I think it went ok. Which feels weird. Now I don’t want to write … because I don’t know what just happened or what exactly is ok about it.  Being a grown up is hard sometimes and I don’t always understand it.  I’m just going to add some pictures, and finish the moment on a metaphorical note.

Close up...

Close up…

... or from a distance.  Perspective matters.

… or from a distance. Perspective matters.