Archives for category: The Big 5

Ordinary day. Ordinary Spring morning. Overcast skies, mild temperature, still air heavy with the scent of flowers, grass, and tilled soil. The tall oaks along the start of the trail are green now. The visible patches of snow on the distant hills are dwindling.

[No AI is used in writing or editing this blog. This is human content for human readers.]

I enjoy this bit of solitude in the mornings, rain or clear skies, fog or a brilliant sunrise, winter, summer, Spring, or fall. This is beautiful quiet time well spent. Vita contemplativa – maybe not achievable for every moment of every day in every lifetime; we don’t all have it like that. I’m grateful for the precious moments I can devote to solitary contemplation, or art, or just daydreaming as the minutes tick past.

Yesterday evening I looked around the house with some amazement. In the short time since the Anxious Adventurer returned to his familiar life and routine in Ohio, we’ve moved things around a lot, reclaimed a lot of space, done some spring cleaning, and generally gotten things more organized. It’s nice to see my Traveling Partner so capable once again, and improving every day. It’s hard to keep up with, though, and I had worn myself down a lot during the most demanding 16 months or so of caregiving. I’m still recovering. This morning I’m feeling the efforts of recent days in the form of an aggravated rotator cuff injury, aching knees and hips, and simple fatigue. (It still beats the hell out of the headache I had yesterday!)

My beloved suggested to me that I take off for a couple days the weekend after payday. (He’d go himself, and give me some alone time at home, but he’s in the middle of a job, and can’t just wander off for a weekend.) The idea is appealing. Would I go to some usual place? Somewhere new? I think it over without coming to any conclusions. It’s an appealing “maybe”.

I breathe, exhale, and relax. I repeat as needed. It’s an ordinary work day. I have limited time for daydreaming. (It nearly always feels that way, and I always find it time well spent in spite of that.)

I remind myself gently that there is no pressure, no urgency, and that most seemingly stressful things are likely blown way out of proportion by my aggressively concerned primate mind. I imagine an ape with a laptop frowning at a calendar and chuckle to myself. Yeah, that seems pretty apt. A robin hops past my feet, more attentive to whatever is in the grass than to anything to do with me. I’m reminded that my thinking will be informed by whatever I put my attention on. Choices. I can guide the quality of my experience by choosing what I put my attention on. Useful.

Another breath, another moment, and a new day filled with new experiences. A chance to begin again. What will I do with it?

I’m sitting alongside this trail on a peculiarly misty morning. It is Spring. The day is expected to be quite a hot one (32C/90F).  The full moon was setting as I drove to the trailhead. By the time I had arrived, daybreak had become a smudgy deep orange on the horizon, edged in a strangely angry looking red.

[No AI is used in writing or editing this blog. This is human content for human readers.]

The stillness and the mist hint at hidden mysteries.

By the time I reached this spot, the morning was awash in misty pinks and hues of lavender. Pretty. A magical sort of fairytale sunrise envelopes me as I sit here, part of the landscape for a distant photographer in the blind on the edge of the marsh. I find myself hoping my presence doesn’t ruin her shot.

A new day, with new opportunities.

I am thinking about whether (and how) my choices individually can contribute to, or detract from, a greater good. I know that my words and actions have that potential. I mull over choices I’ve made in life without any regard for the effect on others. I reflect on choices I’ve made with attention and consideration of how they would affect others in my life and beyond.  I’m not sure why it’s on my mind this morning. Something leftover from my dreams, maybe. I wonder how many people really give any thought to whether a particular decision they are on the cusp of making will tend to benefit a greater good, or undermine it? Does it matter “in the bigger picture”?

Here is an interesting thought exercise about decision making and the greater good; imagine you have received an especially good job offer. The pay is fantastic (more than you were looking for many times over, an almost unimaginable sum of money), with equally exceptional benefits. It’s yours for the taking, but with the explicit understanding that in accepting this job offer, one reliable outcome would be that a notable percentage of the population would be…fired. No jobs left for them at all. Your own community and friends and colleagues, and numerous strangers, directly affected. They’ll be without income and without adequate resources. You have no power to change that outcome. Do you take the job? Do you serve your own needs exclusively, even knowing how it will affect others, or do you refuse to do that kind of harm for your own gain?

…I promise you, a disturbing number of seemingly “good people” would take the job. Would you?

Greed is some nasty toxic shit. Human primates are very vulnerable to greed. “More” and “better” are seriously tempting for most of us. Weirdly, it also appears that the more/better we acquire in life, the less we seem inclined to consider the greater good, and whether what satisfies our greed may come at a cost for humanity itself. Aggressively nihilist billionaires are fucking terrifying; they have nearly infinite resources, and genuinely don’t care about humanity at all. They’ve chosen themselves and their own satisfaction over any sort of greater good so many times, it has become easy to destroy what everyone else needs to survive.

I sigh to myself. I breathe, exhale, and relax. It’s beautiful here, now. I sit awhile, reflecting on life, and on choices. I planted tomato plants in my veggie garden, and gave them plenty of room in the raised bed. I put cages around them, more to protect them from the deer in some small way, than to support them. I think I’ll plant carrots and radishes in the adjacent space. I remind myself to water the yard when I get home, feeling rather stupid that I forgot to do that before I left. I add an alarm to my phone to remind me to water the lawn and garden beds early each morning, until it becomes a habit. I like not having to bother with that – but there is a greater good involved; the plants need the water in the heat of summer. Best to have the habit of it before summer heat arrives.

… And what about the other uses of the finite resource that is water? People, livestock, nature, agriculture… What is the greatest good for the greatest number? Where does individual responsibility really begin and end, and responsibility to community, society, or the world become the critical detail? I sit swinging my feet, and watching the sun rise. Once, a long time ago, someone told me I think too much. I smile to myself. I tend to think that most people (within my limited knowledge of people more generally) think too little. People seem oddly disinclined to take time for just sitting and thinking. Too busy. 😆 That seems unfortunate; there is so much to think about.

What will you do with it? Where does your path lead?

I breathe in the fragrance of Spring, exhaling as I hop down from my perch on the fence rail. The sun is rising into the clear blue sky. The clock is ticking. There are things to do, and it feels like a good time to begin again.

Today is my anniversary with my Traveling Partner; 16 years together, a bit more, and 15 married. As long-term relationships go, it’s not exactly “a lifetime” – I’ve had to try a few times to “get it right”. This anniversary is a major milestone for a minor reason; it is my longest long-term relationship.

[No AI is used in writing or editing this blog. This is human content for human readers.]

My next longest long-term relationships (14 years together, never actually married, and another that was 14 years married, but only 10 of those together) were problematic extensions of traumatizing models of “family life” I’d dearly like to erase from memory, but for the fact that my path through the chaos and damage eventually brought me here. I wouldn’t change a moment if it might mean missing out on the love I’ve found with my Traveling Partner.

“Communion” 2010

So here I am, walking as the sun rises, smiling and hearing love songs in my head. We have dinner plans tonight, and I’m excited about that. I haven’t gotten him a gift. I don’t know how to give a gift worthy of a love like this one on the limited budget I would have. Dinner together at the best restaurant in the area seems fitting. (His idea, which tickles me so much.)

“Contemplation” 12″ x 16″ acrylic and iron oxide. August 2011

Is love “enough”? I walk and think about that question and find myself answering “enough for what?” before shrugging off the question as irrelevant to my lived experience of love and loving. Love is love. Questions of sufficiency seem to lead down a path of price tags and comparisons and cost/benefit analysis, and that seems foolish. Love doesn’t have to be “enough” to fulfill some other purpose, it is enough to experience love, ever. I get to my halfway point, still smiling and feeling lighthearted. It’s a beautiful morning, and I am fortunate to be in love.

“Cherry Blossoms” 2011

I breathe, exhale, and relax. Meditation is difficult this morning. I fidget like a child in church, restless, excited. My mind wanders (don’t forget to pick up your Rx, don’t forget your manicure appointment, don’t forget to double-check the grocery list and stop by the store…). S’ok. It’s a very human experience. Most people don’t notice my brain damage; little glitches in the background, unusual difficulties with communication, oddball “quirks” that are actually coping mechanisms for getting around “thinking holes” and shit that just doesn’t work the way it should. I’m used to it, mostly. I’ve improved a lot over the years (so much). My Traveling Partner sees more of it than most people – and manages to be kind, loving, and generally very supportive, without succumbing to the potential temptation to exploit me to his advantage. (Not true in previous relationships, one of which apparently had exploitation as it’s specific purpose.) I feel safe and loved, which is pretty wonderful for this busted up weird human primate doing her best to figure life out, I must say. 😆

A token of affection. Love on a chain. The only heart-shaped locket I have ever owned.

I sigh contentedly, even happily. It’s a beautiful morning and I feel loved. I watch the sun light the vineyards along this trail. Such a beautiful moment. I sit here awhile longer. I have some errands to run before I return home to my beloved. I feel fortunate and merry, and supremely pleased to have taken the day off (and grateful to have had that option). Love makes it a beautiful day to be alive.

I smile and breathe the sweetly fragrant Spring breeze. I let the clock tick on (how could I even stop it?), soon enough it will be time to begin again.

I woke up early this morning in too much pain to go back to sleep, the recollection of a lustful dream still fresh in my memory. I got up, dressed, and headed for the trailhead. I beat the first signs of sunrise.

[No AI is used in writing or editing this blog. This is human content for human readers.]

My allergies are pretty bad this morning, and before I put a boot on the trail I’ve used a half a pack of travel tissues. It’s annoying, and I’ve taken more allergy medication to deal with that mess. The sinus headache is doing its best to ruin my mood, but I successfully resist. I sigh to myself, resigned to a stuffy head today, and grateful to have allergy medicine at all. It could be worse, eh? Trees? Probably.

The weekend felt beautifully long, and a bit like a romantic weekend away from the world, although in most practical regards it was an ordinary enough weekend. Plenty got done, and more than that, the close connection between my Traveling Partner and I allowed us to share with a loving frankness and gentle words and be heard on some things we’d been cautious about sharing at all. It’s nice to have it like that, and it isn’t an accident of circumstance; we work at that amount of openness together. I smile as I walk, feeling warmed through by love.

I walk with my thoughts, wondering at how visceral and real dreams can feel, and how readily emotions surface, shifting with the context. I’m getting sufficiently deep sleep to dream vividly and with depth and detail, as if living another life. I easily slip into lucid dreaming (and I am grateful to have the ability to do so). I wasn’t having such rich and vivid dreams while the Anxious Adventurer lived here; a portion of my mind was generally wakeful and wary, vigilant even through sleep. I have missed my dreams. It was an annoyance, but knothing I could have asked of him would have changed that. It was a PTSD response to the presence of a stranger in my living space that only surfaced when I slept. My sleep is definitely healthier now.

I pause my writing to respond to my Traveling Partner’s morning greeting. We both seem pretty merry and upbeat, which is a lovely start to the day. I decide on working from my preferred co-working location instead of at home, at least for the morning, just to avoid being an uncomfortable nuisance distraction with my allergies while my beloved is working (or sipping coffee and enjoying a peaceful moment). I don’t really feel like dealing with him having to deal with my allergies. 😆 That’s love, too. We make it a practice to avoid vexing each other with bullshit when we can.

Daybreak comes and goes. I watch the sun rising from my halfway point as I write. There’s a mist clinging in low places and the morning is a chilly one, although I haven’t paid it any mind; I’m dressed appropriately for a warm afternoon, with a cardigan thrown on for warmth on a chilly Spring morning. Not my first early morning. 😆

My thoughts become a jumble of dream fragments, allergies, and musings about metaphors, inconsequential but perhaps useful as a means of processing shards and snippets of thoughts into something more useful for later? My dream still stands out in my thoughts, lingering the way very real-feeling dreams sometimes do. I sigh and get to my feet to finish my walk. It’s a chilly morning and I’m starting to feel it. It’s a good moment to begin again.

Yesterday was one of those lovely days that refresh and deepen an intimate connection through serendipity and shared experiences. My Traveling Partner wanted to begin Spring cleaning, now that the weather was warm and mild, and we’d completed the rearranging of rooms after the Anxious Adventurer had moved out. It made sense, and I had no reasonable excuses to decline. So. Housekeeping together.

[No AI is used in writing or editing this blog. This is human content for human readers.]

My beloved regaled me with stories of that aspect of military life that is cleaning. No servants for soldiers (or sailors) in these modern times, and we both have memories of tackling clean up as a group endeavor. Our recollections are very different. He recalls almost fondly the shared experience of cleaning work and living spaces with his Navy peers. My similar recollections of Army life are fraught with feelings of irritation, resentment, and sexual harassment. lol I held my tongue and enjoyed his stories and hanging out together. He kept the music coming, we took turns in some areas and supported each other when needed. It was honestly fun as hell.

G’damn I am glad to see him back to being his “usual” particular and playful self. He’s funny and forgiving, and relaxed, these days. He manages to balance being understanding and accommodating with also helping me gently push myself to do more better, when I’m able.

He’s sexy and funny, and he loves me, and we have history – shared and unshared – that ties us together with a depth that would be hard to describe in practical terms. “You had to be there.” We were.

There was this one moment, yesterday… A piece of music he’s played for me often. I… didn’t get it. Didn’t realize the significance. It’s strange that I didn’t listen closer sooner. I generally do. Yesterday I finally did. He was astonished, and a little hurt too, maybe, but as I listened, I realized how powerfully “us” (and me) this song really is, and we connected (again) over a shared moment. It became part of the soundtrack of love. I think back to where/when he first shared it with me. Even more meaningful in context. I played it for myself again quietly before bed, and again this morning.

Love binds us in the most beautiful way.

I walked with my thoughts, of love, of nearly perfect moments, of how good things can be – even housekeeping – together.

There’s more housekeeping to do. Neither of us have quite the energy and pure force of will to deep clean the entire house in a single day, even together. I’m okay with it; I enjoy the time I spend with my beloved. I spent a short time in the garden, too, and there’s still more work to be done there. The strawberries and blueberries are blooming. Will I get a good crop this year?

Love songs in my head and flowers in my garden.

I breathe, exhale, and relax. Meditation and a golden sunrise, later coffee with the Chaotic Comic, and it is a lovely morning. Strangely, all I can really think about is my Traveling Partner and the love song in my head.

It’s strange

The wheel turns. The clock ticks on. I’m grateful to share so much of this journey with this singular human being who is my Traveling Partner. I find myself wondering how many lifetimes we may have crossed paths and found love? It often seems too profound, too deep, to develop in a single lifetime. I breathe in the scent of Spring flowers. I watch the sun touch the tops of the trees.

It’s an interesting journey. I’m fortunate to have such good company along the way.

It’s a big world. Lots of options. Choose wisely.

I smile to myself. I’ve got a heart full of love and a mind full of daydreams. I watch the squirrels and robins in the morning sunshine. It’s a beautiful moment and I enjoy it awhile. I think of my beloved and my smile deepens. When I begin again, he’ll be there. It’s an amazing feeling.