Archives for category: women

One of my favorite experiences is the simple delight of a leisurely morning, so much so that I wake each day fully 2 hours before I have to leave for work, with no agenda beyond having my morning coffee and some time for me, enjoyed on my own terms. That my partners do so many things, and make so many small choices, to ensure I have more of these mornings than not, is most certainly one of the most loving things I regularly enjoy.  This morning was one of those delightful leisurely mornings, although it was not in any fashion ‘routine’.

For one thing, I spent much of the morning in my rose garden, sipping my latte – which was a different flavor than what I generally favor first thing – and contemplating the work to come. My weekend begins on Friday. The roses need dead-heading, feeders need replenishing, there are some shrubs I plan to have removed that need to be marked, and I gently considered the fall pruning of trees and shrubs with an eye for future summers; the aesthetic result matters to me. I hardly noticed the drizzle that came and went, and it was well into an hour before I realized time had passed at all.

The blueberries are excellent this year!

The blueberries are excellent this year!

I still had time to enjoy a second coffee, and I enjoyed the robust hit to my taste buds of a favorite morning choice – a double shot of espresso, a little milk, and a hint of vanilla. Yum. I lingered over my espresso while I watched fish swim.  My anxiety about sick fish has mostly receded, and it seems I identified the issue quickly enough for early treatment to prevail.

A good day ahead of me, now, and a lovely morning behind me. I’m eager for the weekend…eager to be in the greenhouse…content to be 50, female, and in love. From this perspective, life feels pretty damned splendid.

...there are seedlings to plant...

…there are seedlings to plant…

…But life doesn’t wait for the weekend, and neither should a good time! Heading to the old-time-y candy shop down the road over lunch with my colleagues.

Enough sugar on hand to fuel a universe entirely populated by hummingbirds!

Enough sugar on hand to fuel a universe entirely populated by hummingbirds!

I woke in an excellent mood this morning, after a surprisingly good night’s sleep. I didn’t expect to sleep well, since I had crashed feeling rather anxious over one of life’s small challenges. I was pleased and surprised to wake in such a good, balanced, place. The loveliness of a calm leisurely morning is hard to describe; too often lately it feels like a luxury. I resent the fragility of exceptional mornings.

Joy meets anxiety; I have a sick fish in the new aquarium.

Joy meets anxiety; I have a sick fish in the new aquarium.

My mood is volatile this morning, and once the peace and serenity that I woke with faced its first challenge of the day, it dissipated like a mist as the morning sun rises on a summer morning. Mindfulness keeps things mostly in perspective, even now, but also has me attentive to the nature of my challenges today, observing them without judgement when I can, and digging myself out – metaphorically speaking – when I fail and discover I am judging myself quite harshly. I feel angry. I feel frustrated. I feel the pressure of unmet needs – and my resentment and outrage when I turn it all inward on myself. I don’t care to indulge in pointless wallowing in the details, or allowing reflection to become self-loathing, or rage. I can’t tell anymore, with any certainty, whether or not hormones are ‘an issue’… I’m so far beyond having a ‘regular cycle’ at this point it isn’t even worth guessing. (That, interestingly, is one more thing that keeps me focused on ‘now’ – when I let it – because I just can’t predict, or plan, for the hormones anymore. They just are, when they are.) My shitty mood is slowly becoming a migraine headache, as I fight the tears lurking just under the surface of my professional demeanor. Today is the sort of day when I feel as if my most fundamental needs as a being are entirely at odds with each other – mutually exclusive, and entirely unreasonable, and not at all likely to be met. Ever. Worse still, I’m pretty sure that if that is true – that it’s entirely my own choices that put me in that position…only…I don’t know…and I don’t know why…and I don’t know how to do what I suspect needs to be done about it…or something.

Simple pleasures offer some relief.

Simple pleasures offer some relief.

I’m able to understand that I have choices that can put me in a better place… working on that. Again and again, I nudge my Observer self back into the driver’s seat, and kick my Thinker self into the background. It helps, but I find myself having to make a firm consistent effort with it. There’s a feeling of internal resistance to it, which I don’t understand, but continue to experience. Still…practice…practice…practice… eventually something practiced enough begins to feel natural…right?

Some lovely things in my experience this morning, too. I so want to focus on those…

Seedlings in the greenhouse quickly becoming plants...

Seedlings in the greenhouse quickly becoming plants…

...the 'Irresistible' beauty of a miniature rose on a rainy morning...

…the ‘Irresistible’ beauty of a miniature rose on a rainy morning…

...the wonder of 'Ebb Tide' thriving in the most amazing way her very first year...

…the wonder of ‘Ebb Tide’ thriving in the most amazing way her very first year…

...the mystery of exotic flowers I didn't expect in my garden, and don't know the name of...

…the mystery of exotic flowers I didn’t expect in my garden, and don’t know the name of…

...quite dramatic up close, and a ready reminder of the variety of unexpected pleasures   in life.

…quite dramatic up close, and a ready reminder of the variety of unexpected pleasures in life.

So…maybe not completely awful, as days go. I vacillate between feeling I urgently need to address specific needs – take care of me more skillfully – and feeling as if I am ‘just being a big baby’ and ‘very high maintenance’. It’s just a Wednesday, maybe, and perhaps this is all a hormonal illusion… what is ‘real‘, anyway, beyond the loveliness of flowers, and the smell of a drizzly summer morning, and the certainty that love is, even when it is imperfect.

 

 

 

 

 

Actually, roses need no defense. They are thorny, lovely, fragrant, bear fruit that has nutritive value, and when selected with care, amazingly low maintenance – so what’s to defend? I’ve often found myself defending roses, though, from the standard variety of attacks: too much fuss, too few/many flowers, too much/little fragrance, prone to rambling/stunted, wrong color, wrong scent, wrong location. There is a theme there.  Do you see the thread of objections weaving through the tapestry of human experience? Too much effort, too little outcome, not quite this, not quite that – dissatisfying on some level, perhaps to costly; the same objections each of us offers to pretty nearly anything we choose to object to. ‘Too much’, and ‘not enough’, are the battle cries of discontent.

I’m learning a few things about discontent. (Call it ‘dissatisfaction’ if you’d like, I’m not sure I’ve identified a real difference, myself.) I am learning that expectations drive discontent when my experience doesn’t ‘measure up’ to the expectations I have allowed myself to indulge. I am also learning that I am sometimes quite mired in the experience of feeling discontented or dissatisfied before I realize that I’ve gotten there, and that being mindful of the developing feeling can be critical to preventing it from escalating and becoming an even less pleasant experience, such as despair, or sorrow, or disappointment. I am learning to embrace my will as a path to an outcome I’ll enjoy more, because willful action is often quite satisfying.

I am learning, and practicing, making clear specific requests to address clear specific needs. (Well, damn, that seems obvious!) I have a lot of opportunities to practice, and it’s definitely worthwhile – because I have a lot to learn.  It sounds easy, but I find that asking for action, or change, is met with a variety of reactions – based on the person receiving the request.

  • Some people tend toward the ‘helpful by nature’, and receive requests comfortably, good-naturedly, and without much argument. It is sometimes too easy to burden those sorts of people too much, because they are so accommodating about the demands life places on them to start with.
  • Some people already face their world and their experience with a lifetime of resentment, summed up, saved up,  and returned as a volley of objections to any request for action or change.
  • Some people don’t quite seem to be having the same conversation I am, and I find myself wondering what they are hearing once they have finished filtering and interpreting the words that struck their ear drums, and then wondering whether to try to straighten it all out, or just wander off in search of sense and understanding elsewhere.
  • Some people choose to be reserved, indirect, withdrawn, sullen, evasive, or ambiguous – rather than communicating at all.

I’d like to understand all that more clearly.  But, in lieu of understanding, I’m working on ‘cleaning up my own mess’.  Learning to communicate more clearly than feels safe, more accurately with fewer words, with more willingness to slow things down to gain clarity and understanding, and more good-natured frankness about my own limitations. So far so good. I’m also much more inclined to be firm about my own boundaries and needs. That one is much much harder. I dislike confrontation, and I enjoy harmony. Communicating harmoniously with people who relish conflict is incredibly difficult – because our goals in communication are not compatible.  A challenging puzzle.

…Huh…this went on longer than I intended, and as I rambled I found myself drowning in words, half-formed thoughts colliding with the miscellany trickling through my very active mind, snagging here and there on a moment of urgent meaning, and suddenly…pointlessness. So…I’ll just stop now. Unfinished. Incomplete. Human.

Here’s a picture of ‘Circus Clown’ (Moore, California, 1991). I’m sure there’s a metaphor here, somewhere…

Fragrant, thorny, robust, and lovely.

Fragrant, thorny, robust, and lovely.

I woke gently this morning. It was lovely. I chilled awhile watching the fish in my aquarium waking up after the light came on and considered the challenge of photographing fish; they don’t exactly pose for pictures.  It hit me as I meditated on their experience of aquatic life as different from my experience of observing it; they are exquisitely ‘now’ sorts of creatures, to the point that even capturing one moment in a photograph is a challenge. I felt my breathing slow, and deepen, as I watched them. My morning was off to a great start, and I was feeling serene, calm and centered.

One of many not-quite-successful pictures of fish. lol

One of many not-quite-successful pictures of fish. lol

Then I moved to put my feet on the floor…pain. Headache pain. Arthritis pain. The other aches and pains that go with living life. Enough pain to create a wave of nausea as I stood. Damn it. I hurt and I ‘feel old’; stiff, inflexible, aching… coffee barely sounded good, but I was still in good spirits. The household was still sleeping. I made coffee and retreated to the solitary peace of more meditation, yoga, and calm chill time watching fish swim, until everyone else also woke and started the day. The quiet felt lovely. A counterpoint to the pain.

Before long it was clear that the pain is, for now, enough to make interacting with people difficult. I’m ‘not at my best’, and the conflict between what I want, what my partners want/need, and what I am up to doing don’t share much in common. I’m cross now, angry with myself for the weaknesses of being human, and for wanting. Frustrated that unmet needs of my own and theirs are piling up because I hurt. Being cross is better than the anger that preceded it. I want to laugh and feel good…what I actually feel like is crying and/or punching someone in the face.  😦  (I’m sorry – I know saying things like that can be distressing for others to hear, and I wouldn’t actually follow through on the ‘punching someone in the face’ piece.) I haven’t yet learned how else to express the particular feeling of frustration and simmering anger bubbling under the surface of hurting, so I fall back on hyperbole and the expression of emotion through words of violence. I’m at this strange point in my life where I recognize that such is inappropriate, but lack a clear alternative that feels like an adequate expression of my experience and feelings. Still working on me…I have a way to go yet.

I am invited by first one, then another partner to do something with them…I feel disappointed with myself that nothing sounds good, and that I feel like I am limited by the knowledge that I am at risk of poor behavior because I feel crappy. I am frustrated and dissatisfied with my self, and my experience. I took a couple of days off work for my birthday, and I’m angry that I am spending so much of that precious time in pain instead of – frankly – having a lot of sex and partying and having a good time in my garden, with my friends and partners, and doing stuff. The person I want most to punch in the face is me. How dare I ruin my planned good time with weakness?

I guess there’s nothing to do but move on with the day, doing my best. Maybe if I keep at it I can shrug off the incredible resentment and annoyance about the pain…

Well, ok – at least one day over 50.

I enjoyed my birthday tremendously, and shared it with people I love. My partners, a couple of my oldest friends, a couple of my newest friends, people who are very dear to me, someone I just met for the first time, all joined me for pizza, some great music, and a bite of cake – the cake wasn’t very good, and I don’t think that mattered at all. lol. The conversation was lively, and it was great to spend this important [to me] day feeling so connected. A far away friend, whose writing I greatly enjoy, wrote to me of the day we met. Seeing a younger self through his eyes was a remarkable 50th birthday present.

This birthday has been about something very different from material goods. Even my aquarium. My partners would have happily set it all up for me and ‘given me an aquarium’ for my birthday.  Understanding that I wanted the experience as much as the thing itself, they coached me through all of it, instead. I have relished the reading and learning, and decision-making and shopping as this tiny universe takes shape.  I’ve learned some things that proved to be great life lessons and handy metaphors. I am captivated by my aquarium, and when I sit and gaze into it, watching the fish live their lives, and the plants swaying gently in currents invisible to me, I think of the love and affection of these amazing beings in my life. It’s quite wonderful and rather sentimental. 😀 Exceptional birthday. 50…worth celebrating.

My newest garden...

My newest garden…

Real life is still real life. I still deal with my share of challenges and frustrations. I still have a brain injury and the resulting weirdness – but lately that has been more ‘quirky’ and occasionally comedic for me, far more often than it has been stressful or aggravating. How is it that things are this much better? I’m almost afraid to look at it too closely. Better is good.

Funny thing – I’ve been in pain, probably about a 7 out of 10, for a couple of days now. I’m not bitching. No, seriously, that’s what I’m saying – I’m not bitching. lol. I hurt, I do. That’s pretty unpleasant. I’m managing to treat people well, and have a good experience, in spite of it. It’s nice. The only down side is that I seriously doubt that my discomfort is at all evident right now. lol. That’s ok – it gives me lots of practice at gentle explicit communication, and willfully treating people well when I am in pain. Those are good skills to hone.

I think I am finally finding balance in a way that works for me…pain, for the moment, is irrelevant. The evening falls softly, and my laptop battery reminds me that life is best lived…time for some ‘now’.