Archives for category: The Art of Being

I woke to the sound of rain this morning. I also woke to the sound of rain a number of times during the night, briefly, returning to sleep quickly – since there is nothing about the sound of rain that is at all alarming for me. When I last woke, realizing the downpour might have consequences for driving later, my fretfulness about driving in torrential rain – which does cause me some anxiety – prevented me from returning to sleep.

It’s been a strange morning. I started the morning anticipating a fun morning fixing Barbie dolls with some neighborhood girls of Barbie doll age, while sipping tea with their mothers. It seems a very ordinary sort of thing to me, a remnant of a past I grew up with that no longer exists in many places – one in which neighbors know each other, talk in passing, and care. It fits in here in this little community; we help each other out now and then, talk to each other, share how things are going. (I am not the person I was at 25, or at 40 – I wonder sometimes if these simple moments of connection would have had the same value for me then?) It matters to me that Maribel and Anna, down a few doors, have colds today. It matters to their Mother that they not share them with me, or the other older ladies in the community. Simple consideration, simple courtesy, simply neighbors. These things don’t really have a season, you know? They can be done all year. It starts with being present, with being aware, with taking an interest – it starts with smiles and greetings. It doesn’t have to end at all.

The change in my plans slows my morning down quite a lot, and I take time on a variety of small tidying up sorts of chores to make my traveling partner’s time hanging out on Giftmas Eve and Giftmas Day more comfortable. People with allergies are often challenged by apartment conditions that don’t trouble most folks – like ancient abused carpet potentially releasing allergens into the air with every new footstep. Vacuuming, damp dusting, and taking care with details like little corners and covered surfaces. all matter greatly and improve an allergic loved one’s experience. Totally worth a bit of extra time and effort – anything that improves his comfort prolongs my own joy in sharing his company. 🙂 (Verbs again, and always – what we want routinely requires our action.)  This is also not some aggressive agitated drive to reach ‘perfection’ – the love is in the intent, the will, and the effort made. That my lover’s comfort matters to me such that I take action is the important piece of the puzzle. There’s no score or report card, or financial gain, or praise expected – or criticism; it’s not about removing all the allergens from the world, it’s about saying ‘I love you’.

Be love.

Be love.

Slowing the morning down offers more value than extra time to tidy up; I am less anxious about driving in the rain, later. Slowing things down is often a game-changer with my anxiety. A great many things that cause me anxiety are worsened if there is also a sense of immediacy or urgency also associated with them. Slowing things down reduces any sense of urgency by making whatever it is less imminent. There’s a missing step – and it’s an important one; I don’t use that additional time on growing and nurturing the feeling of anxiety. Once basic planning and healthy expectation-setting is managed, I simply move on to other things. “Simply” – it gets easier with practice, it’s not ‘effortless’, it’s just not complicated. 🙂

Today is a good day to practice good practices, and a good day to share them. Today is a good day to say good morning to a neighbor in passing, and to smile at strangers. Today is a good day to recognize how human we each are, each having our own experience, each on our own journey – still so very human that we easily overlook how similar our experiences may actually be…and if we don’t share, we won’t know. Today is a good day to step outside my comfort zone, and be a welcoming presence in my world. Today is a good day to be love. 🙂

My holiday week continues. Yesterday didn’t have much of a vacation feel to it, and having spent it caring for a distressed loved one I found myself wrung out with fatigue quite early. I’ve been sleeping quite well, lately, and didn’t think twice about crashing out a couple of hours early; no alarm to be set, I could even sleep in (again) if I like.

At the end of a stormy day, feeling a bit flooded.

At the end of a stormy day, feeling a bit flooded can be expected.

It was no real surprise to wake around 2 am, my troubled dreams did not linger in my consciousness and I easily returned to sleep. I woke again shortly after 4:00 am, and got up long enough to take my morning meds (a bit early, but acceptably so), and again return to sleep…only… I didn’t fall asleep again. My brain decided my mind had become a playground for worrisome demons, driven by background stress lingering from the day before. No real surprise there, under the circumstances. I reorganize myself into a position suitable for meditation, and teach my errant consciousness a thing or two about self-discipline – or I try. We play a cat-n-mouse game of meditation versus imagination for a while; when I found my mind wandering, I bring it back to my breath, and again and again, and yet again. Some time later my mind yielded to my determination, and unmeasured time passed in calm internal stillness. Around 7, or a bit after, I roused myself naturally with a deep sign of contentment and a feeling of ‘being complete’ – the only thing missing at that point was a good cup of coffee.

The warmth of the mug in my hand is a pleasant contrast with the chill in the room, and I remind myself to adjust the thermostat controls for ‘home for the holidays’ so that I’m not chilly for the sake of economy at a time of day when I’m not usually home, but am most definitely both home, and sitting around in my jammies the week before Giftmas. Taking care of me has some very practical small details to it, and learning to manage them all well and skillfully is an ongoing learning process.

I see a sliver of ‘lighter than darkness’ peeking through the small gap under the vertical blinds on the patio door, and open the blinds enough to provide a view of the changing light of day. Regardless of the weather, I like the wee bit of not-much-of-a-view and seeing the day progress, and small wild creatures at play just beyond my patio. The view is most appealing because the vantage point from my desk or wee love seat is such that it doesn’t look to anyone else’s windows, which matters to me although I would not easily be able to explain quite why.

After the storms, growth.

After the storms, growth.

In general, the day is off to a good start and this ‘now’ right here is calm, and pleasant, and I feel content and at ease. I don’t know where the day will take me, or what the experience will be like – will it be rich with warmth and love? Will I laugh a lot? Will I smile most of the day, or will challenges chase me? Will love win? Will I look back on the day pleased by the outcome of carefully made choices? Will I remember to take care of me? Will I treat others as well as I would like to be treated, myself? So many choices, options, and opportunities!

Today is a good day to keep the bar set comfortably at ‘enough’ and enjoy whatever the day may offer. 🙂

It’s late. I made a choice to finish the evening gently, investing in small joys I associate with the holidays: the music, the twinkle lights, the scents, and the flavors. By choice, I finish the evening with a smile floating on the current that is the things that are going well, rather than becoming snagged, weighed-down, by something going less well. (It would be a rare thing in life for absolutely 100% of everything to be entirely ideal.) I’m comfortable with contentment, and I have enough for that. I take time for me, and treat myself gently, and well.

Glow

Relaxing in the glow, I begin again.

I meditate a while and set aside enough of my concern for my traveling partner to rest easily and trust his good decision-making. Losing sleep over the circumstances benefits no one. Feeling comforted from within and able to ‘be there’ if called upon, I chill awhile longer in the glow of the Giftmas tree, grateful to love and be loved, and grateful to have enough.

 

Dear Santa,

It’s been awhile since we’ve talked, and surely the days of sending you long lists of retail delights is behind me… mostly. It’s not that I ‘have it all’ or wouldn’t benefit from a quality of life improvement here or there, it’s just that – generally speaking – I have what I need, and it’s enough. Still…you have quite a job ahead of you, and all you ever ask of me is that I do my best all year – and give you a list of what I want for Giftmas.

I think it’s safe to say that most of the time this year, I’ve definitely done my best – or what I thought was my best in the moment. So, that being said, I’m making a point of fulfilling my end of the bargain, Santa. Here’s my list:

  1. Please give me a moment – just whatever you can spare – to take a breath and rethink what I’m about to say to some other human being, long enough to avoid being thoughtlessly callous, or missing their point. I’d like to improve on how well I listen this year.
  2. Please also give me any spare reminders you may have laying about that we are each so very human, so that I also take a moment to pause before I react to what someone else’s experience is, and avoid taking it personally. I’d like to be more easily able to show compassion, without the detour through over-reacting in the moment.
  3. Santa, I know you’re going to work your sleigh off on Giftmas Eve, and spend the next 280 days or so recovering – can you spare some of your self-care best practices, because I gotta say – you’ve been working that magic once a year for decades, and I get tired just thinking about it! Please fill my stocking with self-regard, consideration for my needs over time, and a jolly approach to taking care of me – I promise to share.
  4. While I’m thinking about it, how about more Love, Santa – I want all of the love, the loving, and the sweet romance that can be crammed into my calendar all through the holidays and beyond. I’ll be so good –  next year, too!!
  5. Santa, please help me remember, all year long, how good this feels right now? I’d appreciate it very much, especially some time down the road when I feel insecure and doubtful, wounded, kicked-around, or bleak; this ‘now’ right here is quite wonderful, and I’d like to hold on to the comfortable certainty that there will be other such lovely times in the future.
  6. One last thing, Santa? The chocolates and sweaters and twinkly lights are wonderful, and I smile and smile for so many days – please tell me how I can hang onto this sense of wonder and delight until Giftmas comes around again next year? You can bet I’d share that, too!
Merriment, love, and fun -  what's on your list?

Merriment, love, and fun – what’s on your list?

I’m still loving Giftmas after all these years, Santa, and hoping I am on the ‘nice’ list…

Your Friend,

E.H.

I left work smiling yesterday. It was a bit later than I had planned to end the day, and twilight had already settled in. The flooding from recent heavy rain has receded, and I took a chance on walking through the park. Some of the trails and walkways are covered in mud or debris, and there are occasional puddles. The signs warning of high water levels and flooded trails are still in place. I found the walk so satisfying I continued on past the point at which I generally turn up the walk headed to my apartment. I finally reached Number 27 in a round about way, an hour or so after I left the office. It was lovely to listen to the sounds of life around me, walking, thinking about love, breathing the chill night air and feeling contentment in each breath spreading to my finger tips as if it exists in the very air I breath. I reached my cozy apartment feeling quite tired, and generally merry.

There isn’t anything more to this, really. It was a lovely evening for a walk in the park. Some practices speak for themselves.

Some moments are enough, just as they are.

Some moments are enough, just as they are.