Archives for category: The Big 5

No fooling – warm indeed; my hormones have been all over the place this week, and at the moment I am uncomfortably warm, window open on a winter day, trying to cool down. Hot flashes are odd; I’m definitely feeling ‘hot’, as in ‘the temperature is too high’, and I am sweating uncomfortably, and feeling weighed down by my clothing. The room is a comfortable 70 degrees…and my body temperature is normal. Hormones. I feel what I’m feeling, and it’s real enough…but…it also isn’t something that directly affects anyone else, unless I start racing around panicked and tearing my clothes off, trying to find relief in the open refrigerator door, or throwing all the windows in the house open, or some similar foolishness. Now and then it can be pretty comical. In the moment, it mostly sucks. It’s not so bad, today; enough to notice, but not so much that it is really disruptive.

The hormone thing that is such a huge part of a woman’s life is complicated. Compassion for that complicated experience is valuable. Real recognition that not having experienced it from within means there are likely elements of the experience won’t be obvious, or easily understood is nice, too. I’m fortunate that my traveling partner is generally very kind, accommodating, and understanding about ‘the hormone thing’; he’s also very perceptive, and sensitive to the shift in comfort and mood, which results (less fortunately) in feelings of discomfort for him more often than either of us would prefer. The easy answer on both sides is love, and giving each other some space. I like the love; the need to take some time apart in order to care for each other most efficiently (on the principle of ‘this too shall pass’) is something I enjoy less, but value having a partnership that makes it easy. Hormones are what they are, and the machinery is winding down, an understandably complicated process. I am fortunate to be well-loved along the way.

Life isn't on rails, we have choices, and our path is our own to choose.

Life isn’t on rails, we have choices, and our path is our own to choose.

Raised voices on the other side of the door interrupt the flow of my thoughts. Today I woke earlier than the rest of the household, for the first time in many days. I’ve enjoyed the luxury of late nights, sleeping in (well, as much as I am able), and living without the ticking clock of the work routine in the background. This morning, I was up, and having my first coffee well before anyone else stirred. I didn’t bolt into the kitchen to throw my arms around my traveling partner; neither of us is at our best first thing upon waking, and the loving thing is to give the man some room to have some coffee and wake up. At the moment that I considered heading into the great room for good mornings, hugs, kisses, and happy greetings, I heard raised voices, and the vocal tones of stress, irritation, and frustration. I decided to let that moment pass.  The house is quiet now, and I feel calm and content with the choice to take care of me.

My coffee is almost finished. I’ll have my second coffee in town, with a friend. I’m looking forward to the outing most especially because we no longer see each other as much, now that we don’t work together. Then it’ll be home, and laundry, and getting ready for the work week. The holiday is over, and it’s been mostly quite nice. I’ve enjoyed the time with family, with love, and with myself. It’s been a very good time for growth, and contemplation, and I feel more prepared for the new year than I might have without this interlude.

The stereo comes alive with a favorite Santana track…the day begins in earnest. Today is a good day for love. Today is a good day to be kind and considerate. Today is a good day to change the world.

 

I was standing in the shower tonight, feeling the hot water slide over me, following gravity to the drain. My thoughts slipped gently through my awareness in much the same way, sensuous, ephemeral, fleeting. Thoughts about love, and loving, about life, and the ceaseless passage of time, and whether time actually affects love, really… It’s the sort of thing I think about in the shower, I admit it; I’m at an emotional place in life, and love is The Big Deal among emotions. I’m fortunate to experience the wonder of love, and specifically, adult, romantic, sexual love.

The shower filled with a fog of steam, and transported me to another moment, a distant time, and I paused there, recalling it with great clarity. It had been a nasty several days; I was exhausted, stressed out, and feeling bereft of comfort or affection from my then-partner. We’d been fighting like a seashore – the sort of experience where one issue is put to rest, and another surges, as if the emotions beneath the whole mess could not be defeated, solved, or turned for the better. Through out the difficult week, I’d worked, too. I came home, one evening later in the week, committed to ‘making things right’ and hopefully making amends and communicating support, comfort, and love enough to hold each other, maybe even have sex. Not only did the evening not turn out so pleasantly, it went from bad to worse and before dawn we were done. Finished. Over with.

Sometime out in the middle of all that, there were a couple of hours – after he stormed off, and before he returned – that I might have spent in solitary misery, if a dear friend hadn’t stopped by to check on me, worried and wanting to be sure I was okay. I clearly wasn’t ‘okay’, and he stayed awhile. It is this interlude, with that friend, on the described night, about which I was thinking in the shower, tonight. He had asked me a question, you see, and it is one that has stuck with me like an echo. I heard that question in my thoughts tonight, and let it rest there to be considered… “When was the last time you’ve been made love to?” he had asked me. I remember, also, being puzzled by the question at the time, how it could be relevant in the moment, what he might mean by asking it just then, and honestly – what he meant by it, at all. I replied with something to that effect, something more or less “How is that any different from any other sex?”  Even so many years later, I remember the compassionate and saddened look in his eyes – I remember that look, that expression, more clearly that most other details of that precise moment, though I know he responded to my reply. I remember my heart pounding, my mouth dry, and the sudden panic that there was some quality, or characteristic, or technique that lovers might be expecting that I just didn’t ‘get’… could they tell? Is it a character flaw? We probably talked longer, and knowing him as I do, I know the transition from conversation to contact was natural; I only remember his eyes, his touch, and being in his arms. I remember the lovemaking that followed. I remember the connection, and the intimacy, and the puzzled laughter when we realized together that this magical few moments had been unexpectedly snatched from the middle of a break up… it seemed incongruous, possibly inappropriate – and such a relief to be held, cared for, comforted, and…something more, something I didn’t have words for.  We talked more; I felt stronger when he departed.  I felt loved.  The sex actually was different that evening… and that is what I was thinking about, in the shower. (Oh! Hey, not ‘those’ sorts of thoughts, just thoughts. lol)

"You Always Have My Heart" 8" x 10" acrylic on canvas with glow.

“You Always Have My Heart” 8″ x 10″ acrylic on canvas with glow.

Comedians often make jokes about the phrase ‘making love’, or the term ‘love-making’; it seems generally considered to be ‘verbal slight of hand’ – a convincing way of talking a woman into sex, or a way of thinking about sex that is ‘for women only’ in some way. Sex is sex, after all, isn’t it? I thought so, too, for a long long time. My thinking on the topic changed that evening. Love-making is perhaps Love’s best magic trick – it has the potential to literally create love between beings. Think that over – we can actually make love. Wow. Powerful. I stood there in the shower, wrapped in mist and warmth, pondering the nature of love… and trying to cleverly capture it in a succinct phrase or two, or some brief explanation of how it could be that way at all… (I watch way too much Science Show, apparently).

So…Really…What’s the deal with ‘making love’? How is it different from ‘sex’, if it is, at all? I gave the matter a great deal of consideration, comparing and contrasting my own experiences, thinking over conversations with past lovers, and things I read in studies of various sorts. I could only identify [in the shower, no notes or references] one characteristic, in the context of my own limited – and highly subjective – experience with such things, that differs between sex and ‘love-making’ (which doesn’t require love to exist in advance, but can result in love as an outcome); it’s something to do with connection, intimacy, awareness…mindfulness. (It’s in the way we touch, but not the technique, and it is the level of awareness of each other, but not a particular act, or script, and it is that we matter to each other, in the moment.) Mindfulness? No kidding? Huh.

I’ve been struggling with understanding mindfulness in the context of sex for some time, and not finding my way with any ease (mostly just feeling ludicrously self-conscious, clumsy, and awkward)…and standing there in the shower thinking about love, a puzzled piece snapped into place quite neatly. There’s likely a lot more that could be said about this, and certainly I think about sex a great deal (being among the many people who generally would like to have much more of it than circumstances provide), but I’m so not an expert on intimacy, or love, or sex…I’m a student of love, as much as a student of life, and here too, I am more about questions than answers.  I feel like I’ve taken a step forward on an important part of my journey, though, or perhaps I’ve at least correctly oriented my map. I find myself feeling encouraged by this new understanding of how love-making differs from sex, and I’ll make a point of telling you why; if making love is about the mindful nature of a romantic connection, or moment… then it isn’t ‘about’ the physical act. If love-making isn’t actually ‘about’ sex, then the sometime lack of sex that life sometimes throws my way is no impediment to love, loving, or love-making! I don’t mind going without sex now and then, sometimes we must – but I don’t want to go without love. I feel a bit like I’ve been ‘doing it wrong’. There’s so much more to learn – starting with learning to make love – without sex.

It’s just past midnight…it’s a good night for love. I have a lot to learn, and this is a very exciting bit of curriculum with which to start the new year.

My day is a bit like ‘Schrödinger’s Day’, today… I am in my own space, behind a closed door. Events on the other side of the door exist, but exist without context or definition; I just don’t know what’s on the other side of that door. Once I open the door, the day is what it is. Having not yet opened the door (well, since my last interaction with my traveling partner, who made this tasty latte in front of me) the day remains all potential, and unanswered questions.

I could make assumptions about what is on the other side of the door. Assumptions of any sort I might make would give me something on which to anchor decision-making about whether to open the door, certainly. There’s no reason to further assume that any such assumptions would be accurate. They’d be entirely made up within my own thinking, based on what I know historically about my experience, and then filtered through my baggage. Perhaps not ideal decision-making material?

I could eschew further in-the-moment assumption making, and go with ‘expectations’ of what is on the other side of the door. Expectations are assumptions I’ve made in advance, and planned around…not really any more useful for decision-making about whether to open the door. The outcome could be more stressful, too; assumptions that fail the test of reality can be frustrating, and cause me confusion and stress, but not on the same order of magnitude as when reality doesn’t ‘measure up’ to expectations. The disappointment that can carry with it sucks, and I’m not a fan of creating disappointment for myself. As experiences go, I prefer disappointment be a rarity, and that I not inflict it upon myself needlessly.

Being present in this simple uncomplicated moment gives me a chance to really consider that closed door, and what may be beyond it, and to practice some fundamentals of awareness, observation, and presence. It’s a closed door, nothing more. I am here, now, in this safe and quiet space, quite solitary, content, and safe. The specific experience I am having now is quite calm, relaxed, and pleasant; things on the other side of a closed door may not be relevant to me, at all.

It's worth taking a few moments to pause and reflect on a change in perspective, or a moment of growth. I am learning to spend more time on the good stuff.

It’s worth taking a few moments to pause and reflect on a change in perspective, or a moment of growth. I am learning to spend more time on the good stuff.

This may not seem like a big deal for many people, and quite naturally so, I’m sure. As a survivor of domestic violence, emotional abuse, and trauma, that closed door has often felt dangerous, threatening, limiting, frightening, powerful – and I cowered in fear behind the limited safety it offered from whatever was on the other side. Raised voices, angry yelling, slamming things, stomping (pretty much all the sounds of intense negative emotions) are fairly easily able to trigger symptoms of post-traumatic stress, for me. Reaching a place where that closed door is neither an enemy nor an ally, and is simply a closed door is a pretty big deal… I can open a closed door…or not. That’s simple stuff, as decision-making goes.

Today is a good day to make simple decisions to take care of me. Today is a good day to consider the hearts of others. Today is a good day to live well, to love freely, and to be kind. Today is a good day to change the world.

I took a long walk today, something short of ‘hiking’, but much more than a walk around the block, or to the store. I spent a mellow hour or so among the trees in a nearby nature park, a favorite place that was once part of my daily commute, on foot, to and from work each day. That seems an eternity ago, but in any case, it’s neither here nor there – it’s in the past. I walked paths I hadn’t walked before, and happily observed a couple new ones – or perhaps placed such that I simply hadn’t gotten to them, previously; they were new to me, and that was enough to count them as new, on my walk today. Camera in hand, questions in mind, and some mostly unmeasured time to walk, meditate, and be present, aware.

I feel more prepared for 2015, and in the quiet moments between hanging out with family, and finding my way to sleep, I am enjoying taking a look at the day’s pictures, as well as the experience, emotions, and thoughts they represent for me now. I hope the New Year finds you well, hopeful, encouraged, and ready to continue your journey, wherever it may lead you. Thank you for reading – it never stops being meaningful that there are people on the other end of this handful of words. You matter to me.

My New Year’s celebration, my thoughts along my walk today, are rather more personal than the sort of things I generally share so easily. Rather than feel naked and uneasy sharing things I don’t comfortably express, lack words for, find ‘too private’, or may actually just not be meaningful for anyone but me, I’ll share some of today’s pictures, and some observations. It’s enough. 🙂

...Come on, now; this is why we can't have nice things. :-\

…Come on, now; this is why we can’t have nice things. :-\

As I entered the park, I felt sad, disappointed, and angry that people don’t have enough ‘pride of place’ to want to care for the world we all share. I’m not sure I know what to do about it, beyond choosing, myself, not to litter, leave shopping carts misplaced far from stores, drop soda cans along sidewalks, or dump major appliances down hillsides. I guess it’s a start.

A fusion of nature and craftsmanship.

A fusion of nature and craftsmanship.

I entered the park and noticed some vaguely bowl-shaped stones here and there, and considered what a lovely bird bath something like that would be in my garden. I find the functional stone, and the carved detail added later beautiful, and seeming very sturdy; something that could be counted on. I walk on, reflecting on my desire to feel secure in my life, and in my relationships.

Every moment has something to teach me; there's no knowing what may be around the next bend.

Every moment has something to teach me; there’s no knowing what may be around the next bend.

I inhaled the chill winter air as I walked new paths. Again and again, I was struck by the quality of the winter afternoon sunlight. Again and again, I was frustrated in my attempts to capture it. I stopped looking for perfection, and began accepting what the camera revealed to me.

Winter forest, winter sky - I see mostly what I expect to see, when I expect to see something particular.

Winter forest, winter sky – I see mostly what I expect to see, when I expect to see something particular.

I walked through areas of the park I used to avoid for ‘safety reasons’. Not that the park is unsafe in any noteworthy way; I fell and hurt myself pretty badly there, once, tripping over an exposed tree root that I didn’t see – I wasn’t looking. That was a day I felt incredibly happy, and I was looking up, and around, and enjoying birdsong, and singing holiday carols to myself as I walked along – I definitely wasn’t looking at the ground. While that’s lovely, lacking sufficient mindfulness to successfully walk to work without hurting myself is probably not something to brag about. I walked paths, today, that were rife with twisted knots and braids of tree roots without any particular concern – or lack of awareness. I was aware of the tree roots, among the many details I observed along the way, and enjoyed them as an opportunity to refine the mindfulness practices that add so much to my experience now; I’m always practicing, that’s how these practices work. 🙂 It felt like a huge triumph to feel so comfortable, confident, and unconcerned about an obstacle that once weighed so heavily on my experience that I gave it the power to change my path.

Winter has her lessons, too.

Winter has her lessons, too.

I enjoyed my winter walk so very much, today. I was well-prepared, and although I was walking new paths, I felt I was in familiar territory. I felt safe. I felt fearless. I felt comfortable. Funny how much being prepared can change an experience. Something as small as dressing for the winter weather can have so much value. It’s worth taking the time to prepare, even for something as simple as a winter walk. How often have I rushed out the door to do something, or go somewhere, and found myself inconvenienced because I overlooked something I needed, or suffered pointlessly for some other issue that consideration (“What can I do to prepare for this?”) could have prepared me for? How many times have I succeeded beyond my expectations or desires, on occasions that I happened to be more prepared for an event, decision, or activity?

Looking up; a common practice I use to shift perspective, and a lovely metaphor.

Looking up; a common practice I use to shift perspective, and a lovely metaphor.

There’s more to staring into the sky than meets the eye. I find the literal change in perspective does tend to fairly easily allow me to change my perspective, whatever the circumstances. Perspective has proven to be a very big deal in finding emotional resilience, contentment, and emotional self-sufficiency. I had trouble learning the lessons of compassion until I learned some of the lessons perspective has to offer. I find that perspective and compassion generally go hand in hand.

Sometimes illumination seems so near... other time, it seems a distant possibility, seen just beyond some challenge.

Sometimes illumination seems so near… other time, it seems a distant possibility, seen just beyond some challenge.

So… I walk on. Sometimes the perception that illumination is just out of reach is an illusion, a ‘trick of light’ – a matter of perspective. It may not be at all what it appears to be, in some brief moment of struggle, or frustration.

Winter reflections.

Winter reflections.

That’s really what my walk was about, for me, reflections – my own, on the year just past, and considering what to take along for the journey ahead… Who am I, today, that I wasn’t last year? Who do I hope to be on this day, next year? How do I get there, from here? In the simplest terms, it’s just a walk on a winter day, some photographs, some moments, some thoughts… I didn’t need more than that. Today is a good day to start a new year…a year of love, of consideration, of practice. Today is a good day to start a new year on a less familiar path.

In just a few more minutes 2014 will end in my time zone, and a new year will begin. Sometime tomorrow, I’ll take some time for myself and think about what 2014 taught me, and what new understanding of myself I can carry forward to improve the quality of my experience. I’ll take time to consider how I can best take care of me, and to continue to develop a helpful level of emotional self-sufficiency – and what experiences in 2014 tended to make those goals harder to reach, or felt like a step back; I’ll take some other direction in the year to come.

I generally celebrate New Year’s Day by taking time to consider the year ahead, and what I want out of my time, and my limited mortal life force, that seems more worth having that other things. I consider how far I’ve come, where I want to be when the new year ends, and what may tend to take me in that direction on the journey ahead. It’s a fairly private thing, and I’m not the sort to make ‘resolutions’…though I do take the opportunity to recommit my will and intent to the things that new perspective indicate matter most to me now, or have the greatest likelihood of meeting my needs over time. Sometimes I make lists. I write. Sometimes I paint. I meditate – at least, I do these days.

This year I am also hoping for the time (and courage?) to start on my own Life In Weeks chart…a project that excites me, and causes me some small about of vague dread; what might I learn about my life, that I haven’t observed in such broad context? It’s an interesting project for a number of reasons, and I am eager to begin it.

So here we are… 11:57 pm. One year ends, another begins – and it’s really all rather arbitrary anyway; we made the whole thing up. The good news? Since we made it up, we can easily make it so much better. Happy New Year!

The warm glow of the hearth, and the last quiet moments of the year.

The warm glow of the hearth, and the last quiet moments of the year.