It’s Friday, early;
writing must wait for later.
I smile and walk on.
It’s Friday, early;
writing must wait for later.
I smile and walk on.
It’s a Thursday, poised gently between a week in progress and a week nearly over. I slept well and deeply, waking at some point before the alarm went off. I told myself, this morning, that if it were as little as 15 minutes before the alarm would go off, I’d just get up. Seemed quite likely I’d get up regardless… I checked the clock, and noticed it was a bit more than half an hour before the alarm would go off… generally, I’d get up… Peculiarly, this morning I contentedly rolled over, wrapped myself in warm covers, agreeably admitted to myself as sleep overcame me that I’d most likely feel groggy when I woke… only…
I woke to the insistent beeping of an alarm clock that I had trouble locating by feel; it was quite literally out of reach, which seemed oddly metaphorical in my waking moment. I struggled with twisting to reach the lamp switch as the alarm continued to beep. I woke stiff and aching, and had managed to place the alarm clock quite completely out of common reach, on the far side of the nightstand. Finally. Silence. I stood with some effort, and made my way to the bathroom rather sluggishly.
I dither through my morning routine…heat the water for coffee now… or after my shower? After. Music? No music? Music. Fuzzy spa socks until I leave for work…or put on my hiking socks? Spa socks. Dark roasted Java, or medium roasted Uganda? Java. Sweater or t-shirt? Sweater. Back and forth, options being considered, choices being made, and the day begins to take shape for this one singularly ‘me’ human being of middle age, soft sweater, modest means, and generally gentle habits… I see the words, and sense a much younger version of me somewhere in the distance of time with a scrunched up ‘WTF?’ look of quizzical wonder on her face. “How did we get here?” I smile to myself – feeling the warmth of my affection for this ‘stranger within’, this ‘me’ creature, and think of the miles we have walked, the internal demons of chaos we’ve battled together, the endless practice, the choices to change… There is no question, really, how I got from ‘there’ to ‘here’ – there have been verbs involved, and will, and choice, and change.
I am in some physical pain this morning; the weather is rainy again, and my bones ache with it. I’m not bitching, just saying it is an element of my experience that can tend to color my thinking if left unaddressed. I make a point of taking care of this fragile vessel. Today has all the ingredients of being a very pleasant one. (Still verbs involved.)
I can recall a time when being asked to change seemed more constant than being valued or appreciated as I was, which I recall as being very rare. I don’t doubt from my perspective now that this was a ‘true’ experience from my perspective then. I felt frustrated, and criticized. I felt inadequate. I felt angry – and the anger mostly came from how astonishingly rarely anyone else seemed willing to change at my request, as though I were uniquely flawed, and they were singularly perfectly beautifully human just as they were. It hurt a lot to view the world that way. It grew and festered until it became a fairly constant internal fight that often ended resentfully with a simultaneous feeling of ‘fuck your change!’ and capitulation to pressure, to coercion, to fear of withdrawn affection, followed by all the brutal self-criticism as I attempted to force change on myself to meet someone else’s needs. My soul fairly continuously cried ‘what about me?’ within the context of relationships that were purportedly intimate. What a fucking mess.
It became a very big deal to live authentically – which definitely required that I start figuring myself out, fast. Turning my own attention toward the woman in the mirror in an honest way, unreservedly and unashamedly in my own corner, being genuinely supportive of my own needs in a strong and positive way was another very big deal – and the verbs were definitely piling up alongside new practices. Every change I chose for myself, because that change met my own needs and held potential to take me further down my own path, made change itself just a bit less terrifying, and a bit less alienating. Instead of changes imposed on me somehow making me less and less me over time, I began to choose change for myself, based on my own values, my own needs, my own aesthetic. Life changed with me. The changes I chose were for and about me, about being the woman I most want to be, myself, and about living my values quite openly and comfortably. A lot of things begin to change around me, and within my relationships – for one thing, it quickly became clear who enjoyed and valued me, for real. “Faking it” in life was not only no longer a choice with value – it was no longer an option. What a relief!
This is not an epitaph to a journey. The journey is not the destination. There is no ‘finish line’, no scorecard, no ‘pot of gold’ – because there is no end to the rainbow for this tale of wonder. Another day will dawn, and I will begin again. Each day is so powerful as an opportunity to choose to live life willfully, eyes wide with wonder, mind open to the possibilities, and aware of the world and my fellow travelers within feeling constrained or encroached upon by their values, or their freedom. In this moment, here, this morning, I feel ‘whole’ and ‘well’ and a whole bunch of other lovely words about the ‘me’ that is, versus the woman I wasn’t, for so very long. Strangely – this is what feels ‘ordinary’ today. 🙂
…Oh…hey… We’re still here? My mind wandered. A quick montage of recollections of other times, harder times, different times, some even fairly recent times, and I humbly observe that although this morning feels very good – and also very ordinary – I’m very human, and there will likely be other less pleasant times to come… somewhen. That, too, is very ordinary. I’d say something insightful about impermanence, but I’m not sure there’s more to say than ‘impermanence is a thing I can count on’. Weather changes. Job changes. Mood changes. Relationship changes. Health changes. Lifestyle changes. Change is. I think what I’ve really been saying this morning is that being the authority on change in my own experience, being the entity choosing the changes, and keeping that power of choice and action for myself – to use it as a tool, rather than as a weapon, and to make it one of the processes of order, rather than part of the chaos – has been a profoundly positive thing for me.
Yes. Of course there are verbs involved. Isn’t today a good day for some verbs? 🙂
Late last evening in a moment of pure delight I ate a tangerine. It sounds pretty simple. It even was a very simple thing. It was also… awesome.
What I actually wanted was a tall refreshing glass of orange juice, which I don’t generally keep in the house because it’s something I enjoy enough that it can easily override my limited impulse control and result in finding myself with an empty container of orange juice in my hand, and very high blood sugar – that ends up being a poor health choice. (Damn you, delicious OJ!!) Having no orange juice on hand, or any other fruit juice, and understanding that ‘a sugary beverage’ was not going to satisfy, when my eye landed on the fruit bowl and spotted the lone remaining tangerine – a medium-sized, thin-skinned, sweet seedless variety – I knew what to do about the juice craving; I would make that tangerine give up its sweet juice to me!
No juicer – not even one of the small citrus juicers so common in kitchen gadget drawers. I didn’t let lack of a ready-made tool stop me, why would it? I am a primate! Haven’t primates been eating fruits for… well, literally the entire time primates have existed? I sliced off a bit of the top with sharp knife and began gently squeezing the tangerine, pouring the juice into a glass as it ran from the fruit. I turned it in my hand to squeeze it uniformly, feeling the pulpy fruit within begin to break down from its sections. The sweet tangerine-y fragrance filled my senses and by that point I was most definitely eager to taste that sweet sweet juice. I looked at the glass, still holding the nearly flattened tangerine in my hand, which was a little sticky from contact with the fresh juice. The entire process resulted in a couple of tablespoons of tangerine juice – really fresh, actually entirely real juice. My eye traveled from the glass to my hand, and I unfolded my hand, revealing the split flattened tangerine, easily opened out to show the sectioned insides, burst, squashed, but… tangerine. Standing at the sink, without any reservations or hesitation at all, I tore into the tasty flesh, savoring the sweetness, the juiciness, the flavor of tangerine, consuming it all (except the skin) in just a minute or too of raw animal delight.
I stood there in the kitchen with a huge smile, feeling connected to my physical experience, and feeling open to how simple, meaningful, and delightful such a humble moment as eating a fruit can be… and how human. Damn that was tasty tangerine. I washed my hands, which were sticky, and wiped the sticky juice from my face (I hadn’t been especially dainty about eating that tangerine, frankly). I turned to leave the kitchen…and there on the counter that glass of juice sat waiting. Right! Juice! I felt a moment of additional delight and joy – there is still juice! I anticipated the flavor of it and it was my intention to savor it slowly… two swallows of tasty tangerine later, and it was done. It was a satisfying moment of pleasure, guiltless, childlike, animal, and without regret. I found it more pleasurable – and memorable – to take the time with it that I did, and to enjoy it fully without being distracted by any other experience.
It was just a tangerine. Just a shot of fresh fruit juice made with loving hands. It was also nourishment. It was the satisfaction of a desire. It was a sensuous pleasure. It was a moment of delight worth lingering over, and worth recalling.
We live in the world we choose to create. 🙂
I’m up earlier than I really need to be, and I have the day off. I’m okay with that; it’s simply more time in my day. My coffee is tasty, and the day begins gently.
This one is a short one this morning. I am thinking about reason, assumptions, and how we human primates build so much of our understanding of the world on incomplete or inaccurate narratives we make up in our own heads. It’s worth giving some thought to, I think.
Very few things in life are as simple as we make them. Very few things are ‘black and white’ – or more accurately ‘black or not black’, ‘white or not white’; the logical rules Aristotle left for us don’t account for the rich tapestry of ‘real life’, and humanity has long since moved on from the limitations of simple Newtonian physics, too. Just saying – allowing assumptions about things in life I don’t (or can’t) really know isn’t just a limitation, it colors my experience a great deal.
Today is a good day for not knowing, and for allowing reliance on certainty to fall by the wayside. Today is a good day to be unsure. Today is a good day to be open to more possibilities, and a broader perspective. Today is a good day to abandon assumptions, and let go of expectations. Today is a good day to be open; it’s a very different world that way.
I considered not writing today at all; my most popular post, historically, is a Valentine’s Day post from another year. I certainly don’t need to compete with myself for attention. I took time to read it again, this morning, myself – it still rings true with me, and it was a nice start to my morning to ‘see what the fuss is about’.
My lovely morning continued with pleasant conversation with my traveling partner. We exchanged catching up details, words of affection, Valentine’s Day pleasantries, and shared affirmations of our continuing deep romantic commitment to each other. He moved on with his morning, and I with mine. I feel well-loved and secure. Moments of hurting only threaten that feeling for those moments of hurting and moments are brief in the scale of an entire lifetime; it’s very easy to lose sight of that in the midst of a hurtful moment, but losing sight of it doesn’t change the truth of it a bit. It’s one of the best things about impermanence; the stuff that sucks is also impermanent. 🙂
I’m sipping my coffee and savoring the flavor of it; I selected a different varietal coffee bean than I generally do (in fact, I purchased a small assortment this last time, specifically with this weekend’s enjoyment in mind). No reason, other than feeling adventurous, and not wanting to become complacent with what I know I enjoy. Taking a chance on what is new can be very rewarding itself – or a shortcut to a reminder of what works best. Today I am fortunate – my choice is pleasant and satisfying as it is, and I feel rewarded for taking a chance on something new.
I am enjoying life in the context of being well-loved by the woman in the mirror. Romantic love is a wonderful roller-coaster of emotions, sensations, and moments, and there is nothing quite like it. I thrive on feeling loved – but how limiting if that feeling can only come from the love I receive from another?! Fortunately, that does not seem to be the case, and quite the contrary; if I am unable to love the woman in the mirror, treat her well, and enjoy her as the being that I am, I will be severely challenged to actually love any other human being well. Certainly, experience has shown I am only able to love another with whatever skill I have at loving myself – any illusion to the contrary is a staged production based on social contracts, marketing, and mythos. I’d rather have ‘the real deal’, myself; authenticity is different, and yes – better. The romantic love shared between connected engaged lovers is a very different experience than love of self, to be sure, I’m just saying I am doubtful it is possible to love well without loving oneself; I haven’t seen it done.
The skies are a dismal leaden gray this morning, and there is a soft tapping here and there of raindrops on windows and walls. It’s not raining hard enough to make hiking unpleasant. I see geese and ducks making their way across the soggy meadow through the window of my studio, and wonder if the crow that visited my patio yesterday might return today. The grasses are so lush, and the willow tree is now covered with green-gold whips of spring budding, about to burst forth as leaves – spring so soon? The twisted gnarled pine in my view is near enough to see the tiny cones and dark needles with silvery gems clinging to them, raindrops not heavy enough to fall farther, waiting to sparkle in a moment of sunshine breaking through.
I feel a surge of restless energy and love pouring through my veins and my consciousness – but what to do about it? Paint? Hike? Bake? Masturbate? Being human certainly provides plenty of options. Considering the choices in the context of the best possible self-care takes baking off the list immediately; I don’t need the spare calories, and managing my weight over time requires continued awareness of my lack of impulse control. There’s room in the day for the rest, and more; I could get the week’s housekeeping done today, setting myself up for a leisurely day off tomorrow, and a relaxed work week. My day begins to take shape as I sip my coffee and write: a hike through the park on a drizzly morning – maybe down to the hardware store (a pleasant 3.5 mile round trip) to check out bird feeders and such – basic housekeeping, painting…
I pause to laugh over the sight out my studio window; a rather large flock of Canada geese making their way across the meadow – by way of the gravel path between the community I live in and the park, walking slowly single file, quite evenly spaced and seemingly in order of size (largest first). They file past for some minutes (big flock – 30 or more geese), and bringing up the rear are some ducks. (I wonder where they are going.. and remember that I often used to see geese and ducks floating in the community pool early in the morning from the patio door of my previous unit.)
So…yeah. Valentine’s Day. There isn’t much to say about it that I haven’t said before, and it’s still another great day to take the very best care of the human being in the mirror – every day is – and in so doing, be more easily able to love others. 🙂 I think I’ll go do that.

