Archives for category: women

This is not a travel post. I say so simply because the title might lead one to believe, for a moment, that it is – especially if stumbling on this blog for the first time, and being unfamiliar with my rather loose and abusive way with words. (Not abusive of other people, no, abusive of the words themselves, I’m afraid, exploiting them night and day for metaphors, and forcing them to behave in accordance with my will, and whim.) So, here we all are. It’s early, I’m feeling playful, and… right. Let’s begin, shall we? 🙂

Flowers are a lovely place to begin, with a deep breath, and a moment of wonder.

Flowers are a lovely place to begin, with a deep breath, and a moment of wonder.

I’m still contemplating perspective. There seems so much to learn from that. My three foundations stones to becoming the woman I most want to be are rock steady, reliably serve me well, and can be counted on to be some part of ‘restoring order’ when chaos begins to take over. I have grown to count on them: mindfulness, perspective, and sufficiency. Perspective proved its worth yesterday, when my good mood slipped, in a moment of rather childlike feelings of loneliness, isolation, and distance, which overcame me in the evening. My internal insistence on gaining – and maintaining – healthy perspective in the moment, and being mindfully aware of my emotions, and allowing myself their utter humanity in a kind way resulted in writing, re-writing, considering, re-considering, drafting, editing, contemplating words in email form for some time, stripping out the drama, trying again…all to find my way to simply communicating to my traveling partner that in that moment missing him seemed almost unbearable, and I felt sad without that connection, not just of flesh but of heart as well. I suspect I failed more than I succeeded, but waking this morning I find myself content that I made such a solid effort, and managed to remain largely very positive, and found that emotional resilience exists, and that balance was possible. Still…A+ for will, for intention, for effort… perhaps a C, at best, for my imperfect results…and the outcome was off the charts for success, because Love is what it is, and does what it does, when we allow it.

What we see of a 'bigger picture' is rarely 'all there is'...

What we see of a ‘bigger picture’ is rarely ‘all there is’…

It didn’t hurt that he phoned me straight away, reading in my email that I felt disconnected and lonely. It was lovely. A short call, a connection across the distance, a moment to hear each other’s voices.

...What matters to us, as individuals, in the moment, is as much as matter of choice as happenstance...

…What matters to us, as individuals, in the moment, is as much as matter of choice as happenstance…

(Notice I say nothing about whether or not these are effortless choices. Choice generally does require some effort, some exertion of will, some intention.)

...our focus, where we direct our attention and our effort, change what we see and understand of the world. We are each having our own experience.

…our focus, where we direct our attention and our effort, changes what we see and understand of the world. We are each having our own experience.

What is important to a bee, on a summer day, in a field of flowers, does not set a standard in my own experience of ‘what matters most’, nor does the individual understanding of ‘what matters most’ held by any one other human whose experience abuts or overlaps my own; it’s more than a requirement that I set my own standard, choose my own course, follow my own map – it is unavoidable.

Taking a step back brings perspective; the small stings and stresses of life are small indeed viewed in a broader context.

Taking a step back brings perspective; the small stings and stresses of life are small indeed viewed in a broader context.

So, this morning I am contemplating what I am learning about perspective. My current notions suggest to me it is essential to my long-term emotional health, and for living life from a place of contentment. My experience of life is something like an unimaginably vast jigsaw puzzle – with one piece missing. Over time, more pieces are gently placed in my puzzle, and I see more of the picture developing before me…and there’s more.

However lovely the picture in my puzzle, before it becomes a picture, the puzzle must be completed. It's about the journey, more than the destination.

However lovely the picture in my puzzle, before it becomes a picture, the puzzle must be completed. It’s about the journey, more than the destination.

Today is a good day to practice what works. Today is a good day to reflect and consider how the pieces fit, and what I can learn from my experience. Today is a good day for perspective. Today is a good day to acknowledge my challenges as my own, cherish my efforts, and recognize my successes; the smallest success in life is worthy of celebration. Today is a good day to put down baggage. Today is a good day to laugh over common struggles. Today is a good day to change the world.

The weekend is almost over. My right now moment is a tad challenging, emotionally, and I turn to words for moderation, mediation, resolution, spin…damage control. I’m feeling sad, distant, and cut-off, emotionally, from my traveling partner.  I miss hugs. I miss touching. I miss kissing. I miss looking into his eyes, and seeing his smile. I miss the sound of his voice, his warmth, his scent, and his humor. I miss his strength of character, his moments of weakness, and his will to choose wisely and treat people well. I miss the immediacy and warmth of his love, and however much love I still feel for him every moment, and how very real his presence is in my experience, it’s not the same experience as being in his arms, or bumping into him in the hallway early in the morning. I miss connection. I miss intimacy. I miss his words, and his choice in music. I miss the details, and I miss the trends…

…And tomorrow another work week starts, and there’ll be no time for regrets or loneliness, and no time to notice how much I miss him. It makes sense to say it now, to honor the feeling, and for just a moment take that profound loneliness I am feeling and turn it on its head, and observe what a powerful love this must be to cause me so much pain, to feel lonely, even for a moment.

Of course, I miss him...how not?

Of course, I miss him…how not?

Love is amazing stuff. Tonight, I am lonely, and tonight, I miss Love.

I overslept yesterday. It’s a rare thing, and generally associated with pure panic, incredible anxiety, a feeling of failure, and an excess of emotional self-abuse and callousness. Yesterday? Yesterday I simply overslept a bit, having awakened in the night to the sound of thunder, and spending some time watching and listening to the rare (in this area) thunderstorm. I woke gently. Noticed quickly that it was later than I expected upon waking. Gave myself an understanding smile, and experienced a moment of appreciation for my habit of recent years of getting up very early to slow my morning down to a pace that feels pleasant and unhurried; the result yesterday was that although I overslept by a substantial amount, there was still no cause to rush. I had time for coffee, yoga, meditation, and all the usual sorts of morning related hygiene and ‘getting it together’ stuff I generally do. So… oversleeping was a total non event, and that is what was noteworthy about it.

Perspective, again. It really matters.

What we see depends so much on what we're looking at.

What we see depends so much on what we’re looking at.

I have a peculiar perspective on perspective, though, because although I easily accept that perspective and context change how some experiences feel, I also find that some experiences are unpleasant,  unacceptable, even ‘wrong’, regardless of context. Torturing people fits that category. So does force-feeding them (and by that I mean feeding people forcibly in the face of their specific refusal to eat by choice of their will and intention). Killing people over ideology fits the category [for me] of acts that are unacceptable without regard to context. Genital mutilation, too; I am not opposed to body modification chosen willfully by an individual, but I don’t find it even a little bit acceptable to go around hacking up people’s sex bits when they are children (of any gender, or culture) and not yet able to consent, or in the face of obvious refusal to consent. In fact, that’s the magic word for me – ‘consent’. So yeah: rape, murder, genocide, drone warfare, genital mutilation, domestic violence, acting out against another human being in anger…really, any act of violence against other human beings just isn’t okay with me, whether it is parent against child, spouse against spouse, ex against ex, nation against nation, cop against mentally ill person, soldier against civilian, sports figure against fan, pissed off person against person who pissed them off… it just isn’t okay.

I have trouble understanding why people don’t embrace kindness, compassion, open communication, frankness, clear boundary setting, and respecting the boundaries set by others. At this point in my life I find no argument that justifies a man killing his ex-wife over her desire not to associate with him any further. I find no argument that justifies raping someone. I find no argument that justifies genocide. I find no argument that justifies genital mutilation (and yes, I do include circumcision as genital mutilation, considering the arguments used to support it are just as phony as the arguments used to support female genital mutilation, and it seems an obviously painful and utterly worthless procedure). I find no arguments that make violence against children acceptable, especially at the hands of a parent. I just don’t get it. How can a human being raise a hand against another human being and not understand how vile that actually is? Where is our compassion as human beings?

I wasn’t always ‘here’. This hasn’t always been my point of view. I was once pretty ‘pro violence’, in the sense that it seemed to me, then, that any number of things made sense as justification, or at least mitigation, of violence… generally falling in two basic buckets. The first, the sick notion that there is some one ‘right way’ and that all must be forced to comply with that way – the ideology argument. The other, that there is  somehow something due to an individual or group, some sort of recompense, or vengeance, or act in their favor regardless of the will or resources of another – the entitlement argument. There’s a lot of cross over, there, but generally it seems to me those two basic misconceptions cover most of it.  The ugliest violations in life are built on those cornerstones of ill-will. I don’t find either of those adequate justification for violence at this point in my life.

There is, of course, more to life than violence, and so much more going on in the world. I avoid the news, but I prefer not to become ‘ignorant’ through doing so; ignorance easily leads one to callousness, cruelty, and casual unkindness through lack of context, or understanding, so I make an effort to be aware of the flow of historical events, while avoiding traumatizing myself with emotional overload. One thing that keeps me engaged in the world, strangely, is the ‘homework’ I do that has evolved around studying emotional intimacy, the nature and function of emotion, my own internal chaos and damage, and the slow process of healing and ‘growing my soul’, and developing emotional resilience and self-sufficiency (all ongoing processes). I’ve reached a point on my journey where much of what I contemplate has to do with issues of consent; it is where most of my own damage lies.

I seriously doubt many of us take a moment to slow things down and look at how often we violate the boundaries of others, overstep the limitations of their consent, violate their consent outright, attempting to ‘talk them out of’ their position, contradict or bully them, or apply coercive tactics to their decision-making, or making demands on their time or resources without regard to their needs and desires. I see these things, now, all as subtle sorts of violation, and inappropriate uses of emotional force. It’s been hard to learn to respect my own boundaries enough to insist others respect them as well. More than once recently I have found myself moved to substantial anger when gentle insistence that my boundaries be respected was not honored…and I find violence an unacceptable way to address that…so…then what? And isn’t that how wars start? It’s a tough puzzle. I keep coming back to a solution of absolute personal freedom limited only by the absolute personal freedom of  each other individual besides myself, and the only honorable restriction being to do no harm to another through an act of my will, and an obligation to society to apply my will to prevent harm when I understand it is possible to do so, and to respect the consent of others as sacrosanct.  So many times, the prevailing attitude seems to be ‘sure, freedom for me – but not them!’  It’s pretty obvious it doesn’t really work that way.

I’m rambling a bit over my espresso this morning. I’m in a generally pleasant mood. I struggle to understand the violence in the world, and I struggle to understand how it isn’t obvious to more people how unnecessary it is. Of course, perspective and point of view matter, I guess. I think it is pretty grim that anyone’s point of view would allow them to justify bombing school children in their sleep, or laying waste to portions of our very small earth to deprive someone else of the use of it. It seems inhuman and monstrous.

It’s Saturday. I slept well. The morning sky evolved from pale gray to pinks and lavenders, and is now that sparkling clear summertime blue that hints at a hot afternoon to come, interrupted with fluffy clouds to remind me other outcomes are a possibility. Aren’t they always? This was a lot of words to say ‘good morning, please be kind, the world already has enough meanness, callousness, ignorance, and cruelty’ – but it’s really the only point I had, I think. 🙂

Each day is a good day to make good choices, and a new opportunity to be the woman I most want to be.

Each day is a good day to make good choices, and a new opportunity to be the woman I most want to be.

Today is a good day to do my best. Today is a good day to avoid taking things personally. Today is a good day to refrain from making assumptions, and give the other person a chance to use their words. Today is a good day for boundaries, and a good day for respecting them. Today is a good day for genuine kindness, and gentle frankness. Today is a good day to listen. Today is a good day to change the world.

I like a bit of dessert now and then. Yesterday pie sounded good, and the blueberries in the front hedge are plentiful this year. By day’s end, I didn’t really feel like making a really good pie crust, but still wanted that fruit + baked-something-or-other experience. I knew I had options. Cobblers, buckles, crumbles, slumps, Betties, pandowdies… there are quite a few simple, rather home-y, baked goods that combine something a bit biscuit-y (USA ‘biscuit’ rather than UK ‘biscuit’ fyi) with some fruit. All so similar, all so simple…and so many words that describe them, each potentially something subtly different.

A cobbler is fruit, in a baking dish, with biscuit or dumpling on top and baked. Yum.

Put the fruit on top, before it is baked and it becomes a buckle.

Bake that cobbler on the stove-top and it becomes a slump.

A crumble is a cobbler sort of thing, but with a streusel topping, often using brown sugar. Also, yum.

Add oatmeal to the streusel topping, and that basic crumble becomes a ‘crisp‘.

A fool is something very different, being fruit folded into custard or whipped creamy goodness. Again, quite yummy.

It’s just a bit as if each cook met a need, tweaked a recipe, found a way – and gave it a new name, and made it their own.  There are so many words for ‘fruit baked with biscuit’. The words themselves don’t change the experience, and as I learned last night, the words themselves don’t even offer an assurance of recognition, understanding, or shared meaning. I discovered that in the discussion of tasty baked goodness that I shared with my at-home partner last night. “What’s a cobbler?” was quickly followed by “what’s a buckle?”, “what’s a slump?” and “what’s a fool?”, very nearly throwing me off course from actually preparing dessert!

Cobbler was made, and eaten; shared and enjoyed over conversation it became more than a meal. We enjoyed the cobbler together, savoring the berries from our own garden, and the good company, and friendly conversation. It became a moment of connection. It became an experience. I enjoyed baking for the two of us. We enjoyed sharing the experience of eating tasty cobbler together, and talking, and sharing the time as well as the dessert. It’s a small thing, in the bigger picture, but I can’t help wonder how much more peace would be in the world if we were each and all more focused on the small pleasures we can all share than on ‘being right’ about something, or pushing our ideology on the world. ‘Being right’ is highly over-rated, compared to ‘being close’, ‘being connected’, or ‘being content’.

I’m sure there’s a metaphor in here somewhere… I know I’d have had to put more work into baking a pie from scratch, and the joy of sharing the dessert would have been no greater. Even the flavors themselves, of baked fruit and pastry, wouldn’t have been so distinct from each other as to justify the additional work, late in the evening, after a long, hot day. Sometimes ‘easy’ is the way to go. Sometimes sharing matters more than what is being shared. We can choose easy. We can choose sharing. We can choose to savor the lovely simple moments of connection in our busy lives. We can choose to nurture ourselves, and our loved ones.

No matter how hurt or angry we are, it’s not productive – or healing – to bomb the @#$^*&!! out of everything around us (metaphorically speaking), and certainly it gets us no closer to being understood, or understanding others; we’d be better off baking a cobbler, and sharing some conversation.

Why choose conflict, when cobbler is a possibility?

Why choose conflict, when cobbler is a possibility?

Today is a good day for dessert. Today is a good day to share the bounty of life. Today is a good day for smiles, and hugs, and compliments. Today is a good day to change the world.

It’s 5:48 am. Nothing spectacular about it, it’s just a moment in time, and I happen to be living it. I woke to the alarm, with a stuffy head, a headache, and a feeling of resentment (over the headache, mostly). “Aliens.” Yep. That was the first word to drift recognizably through my consciousness. I frown at that thought, and realize it’s my brain reminding me we still have a house guest, and one whose preference is to sleep with the bedroom door open; wandering sleepily down the hall with bare feet, naked, and hair in disarray would be…inappropriate. I paused long enough to let my consciousness catch up to me a bit, before I headed down the hall. A shower. Yoga. Meditation. Facebook…and utterly  shameless about prioritizing that; a very dear friend had a baby late yesterday, and that’s where the updates are going to be. Now, here I am. 5:48 am.

I’d like to have more to say this morning. I could fearlessly share the subtle sadness that goes with seeing someone so dear to me, who is so exquisitely skilled at motherhood, and whose partner so clearly adores and supports her, having a baby with this person she loves so deeply…it’s not an experience I will have. Motherhood isn’t just a big deal culturally, and it isn’t merely necessary to further the existence of the specie, it’s a unique individual emotional experience and biological function of femaleness – at least until science goes somewhere different with that. I’ve been pregnant, sure. 5 times, actually. No babies. At this point, the equipment is offline, and it isn’t likely to come up short of a potentially religion-changing miracle. I don’t have a clear regret about it; I knew when I was 18 that the path of motherhood wasn’t the one I cared to choose. Still…when I look into my traveling partner’s eyes, when I am in his arms, there is this incredible yearning to have the experience of motherhood with him. It’s very biological. Very emotional. It is profound. I see the picture on Facebook welcoming this tiny new life into the world, already so loved, and I ache – it’s not just any baby that trips that circuit, only babies held in arms of exquisite encompassing love. I would so do that with him. Any time. Ever. I’d quit my job, I’d change my life…it’s the most peculiar thing, because outside the context of loving this particular man, I rarely experience this particular feeling.  Neither he nor I actually wanted to have a child, when we got together, and I was already old enough that raising a child to adulthood would inevitably be a cruel test of a child’s love for a dying parent…and now, the opportunity, the choice, is simply off the menu.

Why am I crying? This is a life I chose… Eyes open. I knew the responsibility, the emotional grandeur, the intense financial and logistical commitment, the lifelong dedication to the life of another human being, were not for me.  I miss my traveling partner very much right at this moment; being in his arms, feeling his love and understanding, go along way to sooth this particular subtle sadness.

I find myself contemplating life, lives, connections, relationships, values, meaning…looking at a picture of this man I so adore. Choosing love has been the most singularly wonderful choice I’ve ever made. I don’t actually regret not choosing motherhood, this is the woman I am. I do feel sufficiently moved to want to choose wisely, and choose love; this is my life.

Daybreak has lightened the room, and my mood.  Emotional profundities ideally don’t linger at this hour; it is too early to swim in the deep end. This quiet moment is precious all on its own.

Today is a good day to savor each moment.

Today is a good day to savor each moment.

Today is a good day to welcome new life. Today is a good day to love, to share, and to connect. Today is a good day to recognize the complicated beauty in who we choose to be. Today is a good day for good choices. Today is a good day to change the world.