Archives for category: Words

It’s hard to know with any certainty in advance if a decision is a good one, tending to meet longer term needs over time, or a poor one, tending more to gratify only short-term or immediate needs, if it succeeds in meeting any needs at all. The poorest decisions cause damage. I’m taking this journey one step at a time, one choice, one decision, one moment, each an attempt to make the best of things, to have the broadest perspective, the most honorable motives, the most goodness of heart and benevolent intention. Each day new, and untested. Each dawn another threshold to becoming the woman I most want to be. Each moment a singular precious experience all its own along the entirety of the timeline that is my life.

Last night was lovely. I spent it hanging out with a friend, having conversation, and walking the twilight sidewalks of the Pear District at night. I got us lost – twice – I didn’t care at all; I was having a great time, and all indications suggest he was as well. We talked  – about most everything. I practiced listening well; he clearly didn’t need practice and the conversation was engaging. We walked – miles maybe, distance wasn’t at all relevant, and the evening had the potential to be one of those timeless experiences that lasts to the dawn…only…I had set limits before I even went out that night. The bus only runs so late. New friendship budding, and as eager as I am to explore that and nurture it, I have also learned the value of taking care of me, being patience with known limitations, and issues, being willing to recognize where my weaknesses of character lie. I’ve learned some things about relationships of a variety of sorts, and building intimacy – perhaps the most important of those things is to treat my own heart well, myself. So, caution, patience, and the delight of anticipation and the joy of getting to know someone. How will this unfold?

One hallmark of the lively conversation of the evening was my companion’s occasional enthused outburst that I should “write that down!” I, too, dig the insights and novel perspectives offered by new friendships. Each having our own experience, each adding to the song of the world; like Skittles, every combination is a little bit different.  His words hang in my recollection, more than my own. I made some effort to actually remember specific bon mots, observations, insights, deep moments of dialogue… yeah. Well. I remember something about eye contact being a very direct route to connecting with someone open to it; by daylight that seems rather trite and obvious, although I remember enjoying a lot of eye contact, and the subtleties of nonverbal communication. lol We spoke of connections, and people who connect easily, the value of openness for attracting like-minded friends and associates, the delights of anticipation and of touch…the conversation ranged far and wide, and was lively, fast-paced, and for anyone else – memorable. Then there’s me. lol. I’ll remember pieces of it in incredible detail one moment, but not the next…and thought-provoking observations, and quips are harder to nail down in my memory – I lack the context of the moment. I think I can easily summarize as ‘it was a great night, you had to be there’. 🙂

I got home later than planned, which didn’t really ‘matter’. The night was quiet, still, and clear, and mild enough that the mile walk from the light-rail station home was quite pleasant. My traveling partner phoned me as I neared home and pointed out, in a welcoming voice, “I didn’t know how late it already was…”. We chatted happily, warmly, as I walked; a powerful testimonial to the value of the technology available now, and the value of love. The espresso with my friend, late in the evening, resulted in a serendipitous opportunity to hang out and catch up with my traveling partner, when he arrived home a few minutes after I did; I sure wasn’t sleepy yet. In the wake of the excitement of the evening, on top of the excitement of hanging out with my love, I totally and rather rudely overlooked letting my companion of the evening know I had arrived home safely. O_0

I woke earlier than I really wanted to be up; someone up ahead of me, and getting laundry started, and doing this and that in the kitchen was enough to wake me. Very few people make the moment to moment effort needed to truly handle cupboards, doors, and drawers quietly, and it does take a very specific effort. (I learned it living with domestic violence – when the only safe opportunity to get out still requires one to access a cupboard or open a door that may creak or squeak, it doesn’t take long to learn to do it quietly, very quietly.) My noise sensitivity regularly collides with the general lack of attention most people place on how much noise a cupboard door actually makes if it is just allowed to bang closed. I used the opportunity to meditate, and started my morning content, balanced, and filled with the joy of a new day…much of which I spent wracking my brain trying to recall just what it was I had said during the evening that resulted in that eager demand to “write that down!”. The way I see it, if he wants to hear more we’ll have to hang out again sometime. 🙂

It’s already evening again. A quiet Saturday night, and I’ll probably be watching cartoons and writing poetry, sorting unsorted images, updating the meta data on the archive photos of my art work… but mostly watching cartoons and practicing new skills. It’s a lovely night to take care of me, to be gentle with my own heart, to enjoy the qualities I bring to life and the world. It’s a lovely evening to enjoy each moment with contentment, and satisfaction, and a smile – because there’s still so much more.

So many potential experiences to enjoy, so many choices to make; in a moment of stillness we see things in a new light.

So many potential experiences to enjoy, so many choices to make; in a moment of stillness we see things in a new light.

 

Or…let go. Either way, your call. We’re each having our own experience. (I say that a lot.) This morning is one such customized, personalized, choice-defined, observation-limited, individual experience. I’m having it now. So are you.

A picture of a moment; evening at the train station.

A picture of a moment; evening at the train station.

It’s a lovely quiet morning after a very pleasant evening. My traveling partner cooked dinner last night; his cooking is very good, and I was fortunate to arrive home in time to share the evening meal with both my partners. My work hours often get in the way of that simple joy, and that is a recognized trade-off so many of us make in adulthood; we give up some small pleasure in order to convert more of our limited precious mortal time into… cash. That’s really all a job is for many of us – it’s a way to convert time into cash money using effort and skill to make the exchange ‘fair’ (in theory). Looked at that way, it’s so important that we not be wasting our most precious, most finite personal resource on something that doesn’t support our basic needs, or something that is a bad (or hurtful) experience, or even simply one we don’t enjoy. When the pay off is good, it’s sometimes hard to remember to choose to treat myself well, and make choices that truly meet my needs over time. That surprises me a little, thinking about that challenge in light of the observation that employment is basically a conversion process of turning my time into money…because that would mean that every cent in value I am paid was already mine – in time, and the potential to make use of it – and the exchange rate may  not be that fair, considering how precious time actually is, for each of us.

Something to think about; I matter to me. The time I ‘spend’ on someone else’s needs (particularly for their profit) needs to be truly worth it to me; I can’t get the time back. Every minute ‘spent’ is simply gone…and I’m not exactly keeping a budget. Have I balanced my ‘checkbook’ and made sure I know where my time is going?

Metaphors – just one more way I entertain myself while I learn. 😉

I read a friend’s manuscript last weekend. I’m fortunate to be asked to do such a favor – not only because it was an exciting read, and I enjoyed it, but also because it inspired me on another level.  As I was walking to work yesterday, a character developed in my thoughts, her experience began to draft itself, her history and family began to become ‘real’, and a plot started to gel in my imagination. Manuscripts, though, are a bit like unfinished sentences; most of them stay that way. Unfinished. (I have a decent beginning of a novel somewhere in my files… never finished. lol) This, though, feels different… So, I made some notes yesterday, and this weekend I’ll do some research to flesh out the bits that need that attention. I may even write. Sometime down the road I may even finish it. 🙂

My coffee is slowly growing cold. I don’t have more to say this morning, really. I’m in a lot of pain this week and it sends my thoughts skittering away from deeper subjects, as often as it pulls me into sorrows. Meditation is both helpful and difficult. Yoga, the same; nearly necessary for freedom of movement, slow going, and although worth it, quite difficult. Words are easy, but I don’t seem to have so many this morning…

Today is a good day to take care of me, and a good day to consider the discomfort of others, too. Today is a good day to enjoy small pleasures and a to take a moment to really value them. Today is a good day to hear compliments, and enjoy them with humility and gratitude.  Today is a good day to cherish my skills, my experience, and my decision-making, most of which serve me well, much of the time. Today is a good day for enough, and a good day for contentment. Today is a good day to change the world.

There’s very little we human primates do that is truly isolated from the rest, so unique and strange as to be impossible to relate to or identify with, so much so that when we behave in a fashion that is ‘out of the ordinary’ within the context of our experience not only do our friends, loved ones, and every day associates notice, so do strangers. We are interdependent, inter-associated, and interacting with each other – even when we are alone, generally, unless we sit utterly silent, motionless, and disconnected from all technology as well…which doesn’t happen for many of us, or doesn’t happen often, certainly not by choice. (I suggest it might be healthier for our own being if we did step away more than once in a while to be truly alone, and free of distraction…)  What my point is, though, is that we see each other, even when we are not really watching, and when an individual in the herd, pack, band, tribe, or community deviates from recognized norms it is noticed.

Just sayin’. You are not invisible. People notice. They probably care – what they don’t have is a window into your experience. Opening up and being who you are, because it is who you are, can be a scary process – particularly if you’ve made your way in life by wearing a mask, telling a story, or hiding your truth.

Life and love, linked and entwined, they are what we make of them.

Life and love, linked and entwined, they are what we make of them. [TBA ‘untitled’ M.R.H. 2014]

I spent the weekend painting. In that respect my weekend was entirely and completely about me. It was quite lovely, filled with wonder, and I’m pleased with the new work. I’d leave it there, but I am a human primate, loving other human primates, and living in a family, a small band of friends, a community of people; there’s more to it than me. There’s always more to it than ‘me’. Saturday was lovely, easy, and felt natural and right pretty nearly end to end, and seemed so for all of us. Sunday less so. Other people, other choices, and there’s always room for more than one experience. I had a remarkable day painting, nonetheless, and enjoyed sharing time with my traveling partner, reading, hanging out, talking… it was lovely. My other partner was doing her own thing.

Yesterday had been planned differently; I planned to go hiking in the morning. The lovely Saturday evening, though, resulted in a request for a morning at home together, shared as a family. I happily changed my plans. Things went sideways early, and I’m pleased at how easy it has become for me to roll with changes; I like planning things, and function most comfortably when I have some loose idea of what’s to be expected. It is a powerful piece of growth, and marvelously powerful, to be so able to smile in the face of unwanted drama, change, and the randomness of life itself. There is so much less turmoil within, now.  I’m still not skilled at getting at the root of OPD and making the changes I need to, to ensure I can easily and with great contentment avoid being sucked into someone else’s drama. I can’t – and don’t want to – control someone else’s experience, choices, values or behavior; I have all the control in the world over my own. Choices.

For me The Big 5 really matter. Respect, and Consideration are huge. Openness is non-negotiable. Compassion and Reciprocity are essential to treating others, and myself, truly well. Nothing short of treating myself well, making choices that meet my needs over time, and treating others in accordance with my own Big 5 – as a minimum standard of decency for me – is acceptable at all these days. I am building my own experience on principles of mindfulness, perspective, and sufficiency, sure – but it’s my Big 5 on which I build my relationships with others, and what I require from others to build one with me.

What we build, what we destroy, are made of our own choices in life and in love.

What we build, what we destroy, are made of our own choices in life and in love.  [TBA ‘untitled’ M.R.H. 2014]

It’s a quiet chill Monday morning. My coffee is hot, and the tone of the morning is gentle. My traveling partner is up early, and I’ll enjoy the time I share with him, before heading to the office for a very different experience – one that I still base on my Big 5, because it’s a good way to treat others, and to be treated myself.

Today is a good day for choices that meet my needs over time. Today is a good day to stand on my strengths as a being, and as a woman. Today is a good day to smile and enjoy the small delights that are always there in the moment. Today is a good day to appreciate any connection I enjoy with another; our connections are what it is all about. Today is a good day to change the world.

"Namaste" 8" x 10" acrylic on canvas. 2014 It's about the intention as much as the words.

“Namaste” 8″ x 10″ acrylic on canvas. 2014 It’s about the intention as much as the words.

This weekend I’m taking time with me, doing something I love, and enjoying the sensation of time slowing down as I linger over what feels good in life. I’m in the studio this weekend, between other bits of this-n-that, laundry, time with family and friends, yoga… All of it quite pleasant and wonderfully positive and enjoyable; the outcome is in the art work. I had planned to hike this morning, and even looking forward to it at the very moment that first one, then the other, of my partners spoke up that they would each, and both, enjoy a morning with family, hanging out and being in shared space. I still smile thinking about that moment; I felt very wanted, included, and valued.

It didn’t hurt that of the paintings I did yesterday, 3 of 5 of them are already spoken for by enthused and delighted partners. I can’t describe how wonderful that feels, every time it comes up. It takes being appreciated to another level. 🙂

"Where There's Smoke" 8" x 10"  acrylic on canvas with India ink; it's hers. :-)

“Where There’s Smoke” 8″ x 10″ acrylic on canvas with India ink; it’s hers. 🙂

"You Always Have My Heart" 8" x 10" acrylic on canvas with glow; it's his. :-)

“You Always Have My Heart” 8″ x 10″ acrylic on canvas with glow; it’s his. 🙂

I’m not disappointed about not hiking; I’ll likely still go for a walk with my camera, or stroll over to the Farmer’s Market. It’s a lovely day for all those things.

"Summer Breeze" 8" x 10" acrylic on canvas with India Ink; it's his. :-)

“Summer Breeze” 8″ x 10″ acrylic on canvas with India Ink; it’s his. 🙂

The weekend has offered some moments of amazement, wonder, and great depth. In meditation, deeply involved, aware, and present in some moment I “walked the streets of The Nightmare City” by daylight, feeling safe and walking in wonder and observing all I could before twilight could over take me.  Imagination? Fantasy? Scripting? I don’t know those things. I recognize it is not the same order of ‘real’ as being awake, here-and-now, and able to touch what I see…only…it still matters, because thoughts matter, and what we fill our implicit memory with matters, and emotional content matters, too. Later today I’ll spend time writing a bit about my visit, as though it were something others could book a trip for, and get there, stay and visit for themselves.  I am hopeful that my own next visit to The Nightmare City is very different that my last, and even perhaps willing to allow the thought that it may truly have been my last visit to drift through my consciousness without clinging to it in despair and anxious yearning.

"Daytime in the Nightmare City" 8" x 10" acrylic on canvas with glow, glitter, and micaceous iron oxide. 2014

“Daytime in the Nightmare City” 8″ x 10″ acrylic on canvas with glow, glitter, and micaceous iron oxide. 2014

Today is a good day for love, for lovers, for sharing the morning and for enjoying a lazy Sunday. Today is a good day to move beyond words. Today is a good day to smile. Today is a good day to face my fears fearlessly; in most cases I invented them both, myself, and can as easily let them go. Today is a good day to contribute only love to the world’s conversations. Today is a good day to change the world.

This morning I woke, rather oddly, to the sound of my father’s voice, and his silhouette in my doorway.  “Are you going to work today, Baby?” The question was gently put and I felt nothing but love; it was the sort of moment that would have been true of in an authentic such experience of childhood…I think…but…I knew I didn’t have a job. Only I do. And it wasn’t my Dad. It was my traveling partner, and I sat bolt upright in bed and as I felt the forces of panic and overdrive gather, I heard his voice say “Slow down, it’s not that late.”  I grinned in the dimness and looked at the clock; I’d only overslept by 15 minutes, not a big deal.

It's not too late for coffee.

It’s not too late for coffee.

I rarely oversleep, and less than an hour later, I am still quite groggy, sipping my espresso, and waiting for my brain to really come on-line. Yes, and writing. lol.

Yesterday was a very busy day at work, and a lovely quiet evening at home afterward was a pleasant finish; I was exhausted. Still, as I headed to bed I remembered the questions for a beta read of a book a friend wrote (it’s quite an exciting book), and had intended to wrap that whole thing up, and send my answers on over. I started with the first question, and thought, you know – I’ll just take another look at… next thing I knew I had reread his book entirely, and it was later. It’s probably best that books have a last page; I might be reading even now. I’m grateful for well-timed goodnight kisses that remind me to sleep, too. lol

Still…sleeping in is rare for me, oversleeping is both rare and peculiar. Most any day that I do happen to oversleep I can count on feeling foggy many hours into my day. Weird, right? Probably not…just stuff I don’t know more about. There’s a lot of that in the world. 🙂

Today is a good day to roll with changes and a good day to do my best. Today is a good day to be kind; I never know who may have overslept and be wandering about in a fog. Today is a good day to laugh at the small stuff; most of it is small stuff. Today is a good day to change the world.