Archives for posts with tag: be love

Today has been as delightful as yesterday was difficult. I never did really figure out what was up with me, yesterday, or if it was me, at all. I let all that go. My Traveling Partner and I had several rather difficult, frank, conversations, that required greater-than-typical willingness to be vulnerable, and a level of “real talk” that pushed boundaries on both sides. The level of heartfelt consideration and and love involved made it possible. I wouldn’t call it pleasant, but the day was emotional wreckage (for me) anyway, why hold anything back?

(In practical terms, yesterday was a good day, we both got things done, worked productively, and got some leisure time. Stepping aside from the emotional baggage, personal hand-crafted bullshit, and narrative-editing foolishness human primates are prone to, it was actually a pretty good day. I just felt crappy, emotionally, as if I’d consumed emotional poison.)

We got to a place where we were both just being frank and real, just talking, not mean, not confrontational – honest clarifying questions, a straight forward exchange of information, no game playing – and it sorted some things out. Somehow, this morning, things are quite lovely, and life is as good as it is, and we’ve enjoyed each other all day. It’s lovely. 🙂 It’s hard to understand how yesterday was the thing it was. I gaslight myself wondering if I imagined the shitty day I had, until I give up on it, distracted by something in my periphery.

Dahlias

There are flowers on my makeshift workstation. Dahlias. I enjoy them. A neighbor brought them down and took a moment to say hello. She had a chance to meet my Traveling Partner. I could hear them chatting briefly in the front door way. I heard my partner “…working from home…” I looked up and saw our neighbor. “Hi!” I called. She cheerily replied “Don’t you get up!” and waved. A few minutes later, my partner presents me with the lovely handful of purple, white, and pale yellow blossoms atop sturdy green stems. From our neighbor’s garden? She has a lovely cottage garden thing going at her place. (I remind myself to take a mask when I go to check the mail and stop by to say thank you… from a distance, of course.)

I sip on a glass of cold water and consider my neighbor’s thoughtfulness. She also brought fresh-picked ears of corn. (Does she have room for corn??) (How much room does corn really take…?) I find myself wondering which gift is most meaningful to me, and whether the flowers or the corn could compare with the gift of her simple thoughtfulness and consideration, at all.

My thoughts wander. I think about words and meaning, and how something as simple as the sight of a facial expression or the sound of a tone of voice can completely alter the way we are understood, and what we are thought to have “said”. I find myself listening to “Schism” with new ears. Consideration matters. Listening deeply matters. Finding the discipline to refrain from interrupting matters. Taking a kind tone matters. So many things that matter… so many verbs. lol

Lovely evening… I think I’ll begin again.

It’s an “eat a bag of dicks, Tuesday”, sort of morning, so far. My coffee is half-cold, somewhat bitter, and vaguely annoying. My interactions with my Traveling Partner have been unpleasant. The day begins poorly. (I mean, it could be worse, for sure, and for most values of “how are things?”, “things” are “fine”.) I’ve already had an assortment of “what the fuck?” moments, a handful of “for fucks’ sake, seriously??” moments, and one definite “I don’t want to be around you right now” moment. Shitty. Seriously unpleasant.

…Meditation did occur… it mostly sort of helped… some…

It’s not at all clear to me “why this morning?”, and I take another deep breath, exhale, and try again to let that shit go. Humans being human, there’s a reasonable likelihood that there is no clear resolvable root-cause to dissect, that would leave behind only heartfelt appreciation and simple actions to take (then we all live happily ever after). We’re each having our own experience – which works out just fine, generally, unless people get hung up on insisting their singular individual experience is The One True Truth and sole description of all observable phenomena. That’s not likely to be the case, regardless who you are and what your vast perspective may encompass. We only “know” what we know, and can’t even approach knowing what that other person “knows”. Even if we’re told, what we end up with is often only an approximate understanding of that other person’s perspective. Complicating things comically (for some values of “funny”), we’re often very certain of things we’re totally incorrect about, factually. Fuck. Humans are weird.

…At least no one was yelling. I find raised voices triggering (I’m pretty sure my partner does, too), and I definitely don’t need that today (no one does). Obviously.

…Is it “obvious”? What’s “obvious” about it at all? Pretty subjective shit there. Hell, what’s “obvious” about anything, where human beings are concerned? I pause to reflect on the subjective nature of reality, while I sip this shit-tastic cup of “coffee”. Fucking hell. I made this?? (…And now I’m forcing myself to actually drink it? Good grief.) I snarl quietly at myself for not managing to be a better human being when it’s such an easy thing to do. I could for sure do better. (Couldn’t you?)

Stare at something long enough it may appear to be more significant than it is

…Doing better is definitely on my agenda for today. And dusting. Dusting is also on my list of things to do today (I forgot to do it yesterday, although I’d planned to). (“Be a better human being/partner” is on my agenda every day, but it’s a big ask some days, more than others.) I remind myself to take time to dust. And be a better person.

Getting here was a journey – it is a journey to sustain love, too; there are verbs involved.

Some time later, my Traveling Partner approaches me with considerable care. We converse calmly for a few moments. He looks sad. I feel sad. The morning feels “broken”. It would be painfully easy to extrapolate that the relationship itself is also “broken”. Catastrophizing small moments is easy for human primates. Almost convenient. Another breath. Another exhalation. Another letting go of “it”. Another chance to begin again. (Fuck this is hard sometimes!) I remind myself that love matters most. I pause to reflect on how very loved I am, and to feel the love that fills my heart when I think of my partner. I “listen again” to the things he’s said that tell truths about how to love him well: needs, limitations, boundaries, common misunderstandings, fears, heartfelt yearnings, desires, obstacles, frustrations small and large… all the things. I’ve got plenty to work with, and a lot to think about.

I set a reminder for (more) meditation, for later. (Today clearly calls for as much time spent on that as I can spare.) I glare at my work calendar. The routine of work is calming, but feels like a “cheat”. Calm is good, though, and has lasting value that could improve the day.

I stare unenthusiastically at my calendars – work and personal – one full, the other empty (of planned activity). I look over my “to do list”. “Acts of service” are one of the ways I show love…but admittedly, I’m not feeling very knowledgeable in the ways of love and loving, this morning, and find myself fretful and concerned that I’m “on the wrong path”. My head aches with the effort involved in emotional control as I stare into work tools. There’s an entire day ahead of me. This morning an entire day of new beginnings ahead feels sort of bleak and repetitive.

…Fucking hell, I’ve got to get past this shit…

Sometimes it seems a lot of work, and I’m not sure I’m on the right path…

…This too will pass. I remind myself to be aware of the differences between emotional weather, and emotional climate.

My Traveling Partner approaches again with some observations about his computer monitor, a new simulation that he’s interested in, and what is frustrating him about those experiences. I listen carefully, empathize and commiserate. We connect. He returns to his planned day, I return to mine.

It’s time to begin again. It’s tough to end a difficult moment without beginning a new one. It’s helpful to stay open to the possibility of success, and let go of as much baggage as I can. My results are going to vary – it’s a very human experience. It’s going to require practice. 🙂

 

 

…It’s gone now. The thought, I mean. Yep. Had a great idea, a moment of inspiration, it formed all at once, and I was quite taken by it. I didn’t take any notes – ideas this good “stick”, right? I’m not going to forget that over night…right? I totally didn’t, either. Remembered it when I woke, this morning. Gave it thought while I made coffee. Sat down at my desk, with my coffee and my idea, and… oh, hell. Wait…what was that idea, again? Well, for fucks’ sake. Damn it. Yep. It’s gone.

…I sip my coffee and wonder about the day ahead. Nothing else to do, really, but let it go, move on with things, and begin again.

This cup of coffee is very good. I sip it slowly, and marvel at the simple joy in one hot cup of this “magic elixir”. I find myself wondering if the lauded qualities of coffee to wake me, and sort me out, and start my day, are “real”… or placebo? Do they exist only because I imagine them? Would those qualities change if I knew, irrefutably, that they were imagined? What an amazing thing the mind is!

My mind wanders, it’s still quite early and I lack the discipline of later hours of the day. I think of friends, and I think of flowers. I take a moment recalling that my Traveling Partner trimmed the hedge and the front shrubbery yesterday morning. I smile, appreciating the work that went into making our home lovely. I feel loved.

My coffee nearly finished, I hear my Traveling Partner wake for the day, himself (maybe). We keep such different hours and have entirely new routines, than in our previous residence. It seems to indicate a certain purposeful joy in living our life together, but I don’t really know. (Perhaps I am imagining that, too? lol This very human brain likes everything to have a reason – some things just don’t buckle down in that reliable way, to be understood so easily. 🙂 ) I refrain from scampering into the other room to greet my partner; it’s too much to be so enthusiastic so early in the morning. 🙂 We both benefit from my patience, letting the moment unfold naturally. He’ll wake on his own clock, and sort himself out a bit, begin “missing” me – or just want coffee – and come to the door of my studio, put his head in and suggest I come hang out (or ask if I am going to). I’ll ask if he wants coffee… as if “no” is ever the reply I’d get, but giving him a choice, in spite of that. He’ll say “sure”, and we’ll begin the day. It is a pleasant ritual of shared life.

I think about sunny summer skies, and moments of leisure shared with someone I love.

It’s a new day. I lost the thread of whatever “good idea” I thought I’d had for this morning’s writing, but it’s nothing of consequence. There’s only this nearly-finished cup of coffee, this new day ahead of me, and this chance to begin again. 🙂

 

The morning is off to a slow start. I don’t take it personally. I slept well, woke easily, and it’s a new day. I start the morning with some exercise, then make coffee. It is a work day.

I sip my coffee feeling grateful for how well my work-station suits me. My Traveling Partner has supported my needs with great care, and together we’ve chosen equipment that really appeals to me, and also suits my physical and cognitive needs. It matters. I’m fortunate, and I smile as my fingers float over the keys of this keyboard. During the work day, it matters, too; I can see the screen easily, and am less prone to spending hours hunched over my desk, squinting at my monitors. I feel relaxed, sitting here, with my coffee, as the day begins. 🙂

My partner put my needs ahead of his own, to get me back to work promptly after the move. He’s finally getting to spend time on his own needs, and getting his workstation set up, too. It’s been challenging to deal with shipping delays caused by the pandemic (I mean, probably?). It’s nice to see him getting to start enjoying his computer, again. When I look around, it’s clear that the last space here at home that is due for a real investment in time, effort, and thought to be wholly “moved in” is my partner’s study/game room. In all other respects, we appear to be entirely moved in, here, and simply living life. 🙂

Yesterday, things went a bit sideways at one point. His frustration (with some set-up details that were preventing him making use of his computer) exceeded his ability to manage it easily (frustration is my “kryptonite”, so I totally “get it”). His strong emotions began to overwhelm me, even though they were not at all “about” me – not his “fault”, or really any “issue” of his at all. That’s all on me. I wasn’t managing that very well. The moment of emotional badminton was a bit difficult for both of us. We have the tools for that. We managed to get a grip on ourselves, each of us, individually. I keep returning to a critical moment of success in my recollection; in that instant when I was teetering on the edge of a PTSD “flashback” and at risk of a full on meltdown, my Traveling Partner stepped out onto our deck for a moment to “get a grip” and take a minute to calm himself. When he came back in, although still stressed, he simply asked me “What do you want out this right now?”, with measured deliberate patience, and a very gentle voice. I took a breath and answered “I want a calm house, contentment, and to be able to simply converse, even when we’re stressed out”. His reply really got through to me, too. “Then work with me and let’s make that happen.”

So we did. And we lived happily ever after.

Well…okay… being real? We did, and it worked out well, and we were able to get back on track and really “be there” for each other. Heartfelt apologies were exchanged, hurt feelings were acknowledged, and each of us took unflinching ownership of our individual baggage and bullshit. It was pretty fantastic. 🙂 I’m proud of my partner’s ability – and willingness – to take a step back in a moment of stress and work together to improve an experience. It’s a shared journey because we don’t leave each other to carry our burdens alone. 🙂 It’s not always easy, and it is very human. That’s okay, too.

Love means us no harm. There’s value in treating it that way. 🙂

Happily ever after is not actually a thing. Let that go. The expectations and assumptions that infect our thinking when we chase “happily ever after” are definitely going to sabotage our joy in every moment that reality can’t measure up to the perfect romantic daydream of “happily ever after”. Trust me; reality can’t live up to our cherished daydreams. lol Let that go. We’re too human for that – and honestly, in its best moments, reality is quite splendid, after all.

I sip my second coffee. My Traveling Partner, now up for the day, drinks his first cup. I consider a dip in the hot tub before work… it’s a nice start to a busy day. 🙂

…Certainly, it’s time to begin again.

 

Funny thing happened yesterday, while I was sorting out what paintings will hang where, here in the new house… an ex crossed my mind. Oh, very briefly, and not in a weird or upsetting or chilling way. I was simply hunting for a particular painting I thought would be exceptional in a specific location, and I could not find it. I could not find it in the stacks of paintings in my studio closet, or in the flat storage cabinets along the wall, or stacked among the unsorted stacks-by-size, or… anywhere. Weird, right? I mean… not so weird; paintings sell. I don’t put much energy into selling art (not the sort of energy I put into painting paintings, for sure), but some of them do still somehow wander off in exchange for money. lol

I solved the mystery with an email search. I almost always email my partner when a painting sells. The subject line is pretty nearly always the same:

“[name of painting] sold! $xxx.xx”.

No idea why, exactly, I do this, but I do, and I can count on two things: firstly, batches of new work get emailed to a friend and attached (giving me a date they were created, and some notes about the new work, often including size, media notes, technical details, and title, if not also providing some insights into my inspiration at that time), and secondly, I email my partner when work sells (giving me details about where it went, and for how much it sold, and when). It only took a few minutes to find the original email with the new work attached… then a few more to find the sale acknowledged. (I could do much better with my business record keeping. lol I even think I should.)

That’s it, really. End of the tale. I sold the painting I had in mind to an ex, almost a decade ago, for a not-insignificant sum. In that moment of acknowledgement (and relief that I hadn’t just lost the damned thing), my ex crossed my mind. Briefly. Impersonally. Healing really does happen. Sometimes it takes more time than feels reasonable or convenient, but it can happen.

“K5: Gently Now” 16″ x 20″ acrylic on canvas w/glow, May, 2010

This morning I sip my coffee and enjoy the quiet morning, undisturbed by thoughts of exes. They aren’t part of my life, by choice, and generally with good reasons.

It’s a new day. The sky is still dark. The house is quiet. The coffee is hot and the mug warms my hands pleasantly. I sit with my thoughts awhile. New beginnings will be soon enough. There’s definitely room in my day for “now“.