Archives for posts with tag: be love

I’m sipping my coffee, and trying my best not to be bitter. Too much anti-woman garbage in the news, and it inevitably filters into my consciousness. I put on music to soothe my soul, and remind me that the path ahead is not reliably smooth or paved.

I don’t prefer to pour my anger onto the page, spilling like the blood I’ve already shed, wasted like the time it would take to try to argue the point that women are fully human, conscious, with agency and their own reasons to live beyond being brood mares or objects to be used for sexual fulfillment. Fucking hell, I hope you’re at least not surprised to learn that there are many decision-making individuals in the world who don’t see women as fully human conscious beings with rights and agency… because, yeah, that’s a fucking thing. Unfortunately. Second-class. An after-thought. Hell, there are people who disagree with women having the vote – or the right to withhold their consent. No shit. Wild, right? Disappointing, certainly – and yeah, I’m angry about it. Are you kidding me? Ohio just criminalized marital rape – it’s 2024 – until now, it’s been just fine to go ahead and rape your wife. Hell, if that’s too much work, go ahead and drug her, then rape her, totally legal. Gross. We can’t do better than this?

…A lifetime of seething impotent rage, just waiting for an opportunity. I’m an American woman…

I take a breath and a sip of my coffee. These aren’t abstract concerns for me; I’m a woman. Lacking the option to willfully choose not to bear children would have changed my life dramatically. My educational options would have been diminished (because that was a thing, and not so long ago). My career options, too, would have been very different, and very limited. My leisure hours could not have been spent on art – I’d have been forced to devote my time to child-rearing. That wasn’t the life I wanted, at all. Nothing about me is particularly “maternal” beyond having a vagina and a uterus, and by the time I reached adulthood, my chaos and damage were so profound that any child of mine was going to have a rough fucking go of it – it takes a long time for trauma to heal, even with persistent self-work. I knew when I was just 14 that I did not want children. That’s still true. (I am fond of my stepson; I met him shortly after he finished high school. He’s a good guy, doing his best, and he’s come so far since I first met him. I enjoy being a bystander on the relationship my Traveling Partner shares with his son – and that’s close enough to motherhood for me.)

I breathe, exhale, relax – and remind myself not to allow my anger to poison me. “The way out is through”, for sure, but no need to be ridiculous about it. Tantrums and lashing out don’t help anyone understand things more clearly, and don’t help me feel better. Hell, tantrums and lashing out don’t even give me momentary relief. You know what does? Knowing that my Traveling Partner, the person I go home to each day and wake with each morning, doesn’t hate me, doesn’t hate women, and understands us to be wholly human people. There’s comfort and healing in that. I’ve come a long way from that angry young woman who stood on the threshold of adulthood wanting vengeance.

I sip my coffee, and watch the dismal rainy gray dawn unfold on an America that hates women. You know who you are (although you’re probably not reading this). Do better, for fucks’ sake. There are little girls everywhere each trying to become the woman they most want to be – give them a fucking chance.

I sigh quietly. I’ve gotten caught up in a moment of pain. I breathe, exhale, relax, and let it go – again. I watch the little brown birds in the park, and the traffic making the trip around the block below, looking for parking. The rain falls softly. It’s an ordinary day, and there is no cure for pain – just a new moment, and a chance to begin again…

Let it go

Begin again.

…Sometimes it isn’t me.

I’m sipping my coffee and savoring the sun rise. I’m not complicating the moment with stress or worries, or leftover emotions to do with past experiences (recent or otherwise). I’m just… here. Now. Being and breathing. Sipping coffee, black, iced. The local murder of crows has begun the day, too, and I hear their calls to each other before I see them singly or in groups taking flight and heading for wherever crows go when they’re not in the trees along the park. There were signs that it had rained during the night, as I drove into the city, and the clouds scattered across the sky suggest there may be more rain to come. I’m okay with that.

I breathe, exhale, and relax. I let go of hints of lingering stress and anxiety lurking in the background. I breathe in deeply, and exhale slowly; I definitely need this break I am taking, and today is my last work shift before I go. I’ll have the evening, and much of the day tomorrow, with my Traveling Partner, then… two days for me, for self-care and reflection. “Downtime.” Much needed downtime, actually, and I’m glad I didn’t wait on it. I don’t have the resilience I really need for some of what life throws at me lately, and it’s an important matter to “refill my tank” and prepare for whatever may lie ahead on life’s path, as much as I can.

Another day. Another beginning. Another set of choices upon which to act. There are verbs involved, and my results vary. I just keep practicing, though, because incremental change over time is a thing I have learned I can count on – if I just stay on the path. 🙂

I’ve still got to walk my own path.

Perspective. We’re each having our own experience. Be kind. Do your best.

Begin again.

I’m sipping the last of my iced coffee and finishing a bowl of oatmeal. Healthier choices are on my mind a lot lately. I look out the window at the stormy looking gray sky and wonder whether the sun will come out, or the day will be rainy. It makes no particular difference, I just wonder.

The hint of blue in the morning sky reflects my mood back at me.

I’m not weeping, nor feeling bereft or despairing. I’m just a tiny bit blue, and contemplating the potential that I may be saying a final good-bye to someone dear to me, if not “soon” for sure sooner than I want to have to face it (which would frankly be not at all). We are mortal creatures. Fucking hell, doesn’t that suck all the damned ballz?? I sigh out loud and think about dear friends, far away family, and peculiarly close others that I feel, sometimes, in my day-to-day experience as “ghosts” of times past. Yes, even in spite of my fondness for solitude, I too am a social creature, and I miss those dear to me whose geographical distance keeps them from being with me “in real life” (isn’t it all “real life” though? email, text messages, phone calls… all real). I make a note to myself to reach out to more of them, more often; time is short and the clock never ever stops ticking.

…Let’s not make that a grim thought, it’s just one of many truths upon which to build our perspective…

I woke once during the night from unpleasant dreams of loss and loneliness and disconnection and mourning. I didn’t stay sad, once I woke. I had reminders of love right there, welcoming me back to the safety and comfort of home. I said a silent thank you to my Traveling Partner for the glow objects he’s added to my space alongside the art I’ve wrought over the years that also helps ground me in my “now” when I wake from a bad dream.

A lotus votive holder and a reminder that I am loved, greet my wakefulness in the night.

I take a breath, exhale, and relax, letting the lingering recollection of my dreams fall away as I watch the sky turn from moody shades of morning blue to shades of gray that threaten more rain. It’s a new day, a new week, and it’s time to begin again.

Oh, hey – Valentine’s Day again. lol My thoughts on this day are complicated…

2013 – How about I be my own Valentine? (oddly my most popular post of all time)

2014 – (Love is) Enough Already

2015 – A Little Matter of Sufficiency

2016 – Love’s Magic Mirror

2017 – It’s Okay to Love

2018 – Happy VD!

2019 – Let It Go (not even about Valentine’s Day)

2020 – Press Pause (also not actually about Valentine’s Day)

2021 – I just didn’t even write, at all

2022 – It’s Got a Good Beat (actually written the day after Valentine’s Day)

Some years I’ve spent Valentine’s Day alone. That hasn’t been a problem for me. Other years I’ve enjoyed the companionship of friends, or in the embrace of a lover, or with my Traveling Partner. In the abstract, I enjoy the idea of a holiday celebrating sexual and romantic love very much. I still think it is super weird that card giveaways by multitudes of school children have anything at all to do with that. Just seems wildly inappropriate to mix all those things up together, is what I’m saying.

Last night my Traveling Partner looked over at me, “I didn’t get you anything for Valentine’s Day” he observed with a somewhat regretful tone. “I didn’t get you anything either.” I replied, rather matter-of-factly. I immediately felt that perhaps I should have – although most years we haven’t done anything much about Valentine’s Day besides love each other. Last year was unusual – fairly spectacular, honestly. This year I made plans to make a really nice dinner for the two of us, nothing exotic, just good cooking. I am even counting on myself not to be shy about romance and instigating some adult fun after work. My anxiety can sometimes get in my way, and the awareness of it alone can provoke it, but I’m feeling good about myself and the day, and my partner, and love generally, so… I have hopes for a pleasant evening of companionship, love, and romance. Expensive gifts are not a requirement.

It hits me out of the blue; intimacy needs presence not presents. I could have taken the day off and spent it in the company of love. Fucking hell. How is this only now something I think of? I make a reminder on my calendar in the distant future – a year away, minus a couple weeks, “Get Valentine’s Day Off!!”. Along the way, I notice the long weekend coming up with unexpected relief and delight; I apparently thought ahead to planning Friday off in advance of the 3-day President’s Day weekend. Damn, I hope I don’t blow it with my bullshit… we could really use a lovely long weekend spent enjoying each other’s company.

“Lovers” 1991

Love takes work. Not one day of cards, flowers, gifts, and chocolates – real work, every day. Real commitment. Real consideration. Real respect. Real caring. No faking it with love, either. Love sees through fakery pretty easily, in spite of all the “love is blind” shit we hear. Love can be hurt. Love can be damaged. Love can even be destroyed – how tragic that is! I take a breath, and think about love. I sigh out loud in this quiet space, and remind myself how many delightful wonderful experiences still take some effort, or some practice, to really “get it right”. I think about love for a few minutes, just sitting here smiling and sipping my coffee.

…I’m fortunate to be so well loved…

“Cherry Blossoms” 2011

I yawn and stretch, and watch the dark of night give way to the pale blue gray of a wintry dawn. I think about my Traveling Partner, still asleep at home, unaware of the snow that fell during the night. I hope his dreams are pleasant. I think back on all the things he’s done to make life better for us over the past couple of years since he moved back in with me… it’s been, what, about 4 years? December 2018, I think…? Wow. We’ve come so far together in such a short time. 😀

I sit here just smiling for awhile, thinking about this human being I love so dearly. I think about yesterday’s bit of writing, and better ways to demonstrate my affection day-to-day…

…It’s time to begin again.

Imagine trying to build something you’ve never actually seen and don’t have a detailed description of. It would be predictably quite difficult, wouldn’t it?

What does a great relationship actually look like, for real? Not “what is perfect “, because that’s not a thing. Certainly not whatever the fuck the dizzying fantastical first 6 months of passionate certainty that “this is for real love” is (although the vibes of new love are amazing, that rarely seems to last beyond a year or two at best). I mean that spectacular, deep, reliable, hilarious, fond, and comfortably intimate love that develops (for a lucky few) and deepens over time – what does that really look like? What are the rules? The guiding principles? The obvious necessary practices that sustain the energy of adult love over decades?

There are relationship books aplenty. I sometimes find some useful tidbit or practical suggestion in such books, but rarely more than that. There are therapists who specialize in relationships and family therapies, and no surprise there are plenty of relationships and families that need help. But what does a healthy relationship even look like? For real? (And who said so?)

I am for sure no expert. My early-life relationship models were all absolute train wrecks of relationships, shitty experiences if not explicitly abusive. So… of course, I do find “getting it right” quite difficult, even after years and years of therapy, and a couple “do overs” (I’m on my 4th long-term relationship). My relationship with my Traveling Partner is by far the best and healthiest romantic relationship I’ve ever had, free of violence, free of intentional mistreatment, with it’s foundations clearly based on a deep and lasting affection for each other. It’s still a relationship with me in it, though, and I’ve got issues. I could definitely “do better”.

partnership

Hold on a minute… No, I’m not missing the point that there are two of us here and we’re both very much responsible for the quality of our relationship. I write about my life from my own perspective, and it would be both an injustice and also beside the point to make statements about what he could be doing about things; that’s for him to handle. I’m accountable for my own thinking and behavior, and making changes is within my hands. My work. My practices. Reasonable for me to discuss. I can’t do those things for him, or on his behalf, and it wouldn’t be appropriate to be making assumptions about his thinking, or what he “needs to do”, and it is an opinion of mine that attempting to do so would be, at best, ineffective. So, I stay focused on me. What I can do. What I understand. Where I find value. What does or does not work for me.

“Emotion and Reason” 18″ x 24″ acrylic w/ceramic and glow details, 2012

What do I want from love, and what does it require of me? Am I truly up for it, once I am confident I understand what it takes? These seem like important questions to ask and answer, preferably before getting all tangled up in a relationship based on love. My Traveling Partner and I have been together 13 years. In May, we’ll have been married for 12 (seriously?? where has the time gone…?!). Here I sit, though, thinking about love over my morning coffee, and wondering whether my expectations and understanding of love are… realistic.

What do I think a “healthy relationship” looks like? I listen to a drenching rain pounding the roof overhead and think about it. I think (for me) a healthy relationship would be characterized by:

  1. Mutual respect
  2. Mutual consideration
  3. Mutual encouragement
  4. Mutual support
  5. Shared values
  6. Compassion
  7. Clear expectation-setting
  8. Clear communication without mockery, contempt, or condescension
  9. Skillful listening
  10. Equitable distribution of labor

I read that list back to myself, thoughtfully. If this is what I want, myself, how well do I deliver on these qualities in my own relationship, right now? I think about the “wins” with some satisfaction… I probably do very well at … 4 of these. Fucking hell. Really? That’s it? 4 out of 10? 40%?? So… yeah. A failing grade. Altogether fairly shitty. Wow. I will admit I did not see that coming, as I wrote… I’m betting my Traveling Partner won’t be particularly surprised.

I’m now understanding a bit better some of his beefing about “us”… and I am a bit saddened by it. I’m also feeling… encouraged and hopeful. Easier to practice something when I’ve got a clear idea what success looks like. Keeping the list limited to practical qualities that would appear to build and support a healthy relationship instead of listing desirable results seems to have had the intended outcome, too; I can see more clearly where I miss, and what I can work on for best long-term results over time.

I find myself wondering what my Traveling Partner would say characterizes a healthy relationship? I wonder how he would score his success? I sip my coffee thoughtfully…

Looks like a lot of fucking verbs in that list. A lot of practices to practice. …And a lot of changes to make. As daunting as that seems, it does put a lot of control over the outcome in my hands. I’ve just got to do the verbs. Practice. Recover from my failures. Savor my successes.

…I guess it’s time to begin again.