Archives for posts with tag: be love

Appreciating what I Β can in life seems best paired with not taking the shit I don’t appreciate at all personally. It is a decent arrangement, generally, resulting in considerable calm and contentment. This morning, I am appreciating sleep – the sleep I didn’t get last night – and I’m not taking at all personally that I didn’t get the sleep I needed, which, while I don’t appreciate that, wasn’t at all personal. Sometimes I can’t sleep through the goings on in the world, however local or remote, and sometimes I can’t sleep through what’s going on in my head. I really do enjoy deep restful quality sleep, though. πŸ™‚

With regard to the sleep I did not get last night, it matters far more that I am awake now, alert, feeling merry, and more or less ready for the work day. With just Friday (and today) between me and the potential for sleeping in (on the weekend), this is doable. There’s no tragedy here, and barely any inconvenience. My lack of sleeping is not associated with anxiety or tinged with negative emotions. I am in a manageable, minimal, amount of pain. “My glass is more than half full”, meaning to say that I enjoyed the evening in the company of my Traveling Partner, and feel cared-for and well-loved. Even with the poor night’s sleep, the day begins well. I definitely appreciate that. πŸ™‚

The snow melted away slowly in yesterday’s steady rain. The commute to work was treacherous and slick; the thin layer of water on all the accumulated ice was far more slippery than ice or snow alone ever could be. I skated awkwardly along the walking portions of my commute, appreciative of bus service that kept the walking portion shorter than usual, by far. As the day went on, the snow continued to melt. The journey home wasn’t especially treacherous, slippery, or complicated – just wet.

Coming home to real partnership is something I appreciate, too. My cardboard recycling had begun to pile up, bins were full after the holidays, and later an icy parking lot I could not safely cross on foot with my hands full prevented me handling things. I felt uncomfortable with the clutter, and it had begun to aggravate me. I arrived home to find that my Traveling Partner had taken care of it, and any number of other things: putting away clean dishes, hanging the closet door that so recently came loose unexpectedly in my hands, installing a replacement external hard-drive (he’d also taken time to locate as many of my old back up files and images archived on his network as he could identify, and had already put them on the new drive for me). My quality of life when I returned home was notably improved over when I departed for work in the morning. It’s lovely to be cared for. I appreciated, too, the sweet relief of connecting and sharing time in the same physical space after two weeks of being kept apart by circumstances, pain, or bad weather.

Small things that frustrate or annoy me may have been piling up over time… now, this morning, embracing a moment of appreciation for what is working, what is going well, and what I enjoy in my life, it’s hard to give any weight to small frustrations and inconveniences. It’s a nice change.

My thoughts turn to moving and I find myself wondering if my frustration with not yet finding a new place have been stalling other healthy processes; frustration is my kryptonite, and I try to be mindful of its sway over my thinking when it becomes prominent in my experience. The lease here runs out at the end of the month. The weather has been intensely crappy for house-hunting, or searching for a rental home closer to work, and there are so few hours in the day available for the purpose, at all. There is little time left. Do I sign a six month extension on the lease here? I don’t want to live here anymore. I want a place of my own – really mine, a home. I know so much more about what I want, and what I need, and what is enough… and I haven’t found it, yet. I’m also… not quite ready. I meant to be. The holiday season got in the way of being more prepared, and I made a practical decision about supporting my Traveling Partner’s goals ahead of my own, short-term. We do that for each other now and then, because… love. So… yeah. Six more months here now seems the pragmatic choice, the practical, feasible, doable decision with the least upheaval, for the time being. I would, in all honesty, prefer to move during the summer months, anyway. Less rain falling on paintings being exposed to weather, carried from residence to moving truck, from moving truck to residence. Thankfully, I have options – and an awareness of options. I make an appointment to sign the lease next Thursday, on a day I will be out of the office on other personal matters. I have another week to keep looking. Hell, I found Number 27 less than a week before I moved, back in May of 2015. πŸ™‚

Today isn’t “perfect” – what ever is, really? It’s enough, though. Today is a good day to appreciate having enough. Being enough. Doing enough. I am content with sufficiency. Today that’s enough. πŸ˜€

I am sipping my coffee with an eye on the weather, this morning. The forecast calls for freezing rain, or maybe snow, or some sort of define-ably inclement weather, just about at the time I am planning to be commuting to work. I am watchful, to ensure I am appropriately prepared. No particular anxiety about it; there is still snow on the ground and a lot of ice here and there, and I am already prepared for that.

The weekend was pleasant and restful. I miss my Traveling Partner. Weather has kept us apart; neither of us favors traveling in these conditions unless utterly necessary, and our emotional need to be assured of the other’s safety outweighed our need to be in the same physical place at the same time. Still, I miss him greatly, and I am eager to see him. It probably won’t be tonight. Maybe tomorrow, or Thursday? The weather won’t stay like this indefinitely. Change is.

I face the morning like a holiday gift. I knew it was coming, but I don’t know much more about it than that, so far. I commit to letting the day unfold as it will, and refrain from borrowing anxiety over events that are not yet. My morning doesn’t need that, not even at all. I make room in my morning to enjoy simple pleasures: the warm water in the shower, the ease in my morning yoga routine, my general lack of pain this morning, the feeling of the warm coffee mug in my hands, how pretty the fish are in the aquarium, and the general sense that this feels like a “good day”. I smile and wonder whether other creatures waste their time defining things, or if that is peculiarly human.

I move on with the morning, and take a moment or two for gratitude; it complements pleasure nicely, I find. I feel grateful for the luxury of plumbing, and potable water, electricity and internet access, and the accessibility of well-made, ready-to-wear clothing in so many colors and styles, particularly (this morning at least) fuzzy warm spa socks. I am grateful for less practical things, too: good friends who live nearby, and also dear friends whose affection is not diminished by distance or time spent apart. I am grateful for the opportunity to love, and to learn to love well. I am grateful to have a Traveling Partner on this strange journey that is life. I am grateful to have so much cherished solitude in which to develop deeper self-knowledge, and to grow and become the woman I most want to be. I am grateful for a job I enjoy, am valued for, and have become proficient at, over time. I am grateful for chances – and second chances. I am grateful for perspective, awareness, and education. I am grateful to have the willingness to overturn my opinions in the face of new knowledge.

It’s a lovely quiet morning, preceding a day filled with unknowns. I will approach it with enthusiasm and joy, in anticipation of another day on this journey to… me. Like any gift, the contents are a mystery until I unwrap it, open it up, and see what’s inside. Whether it disappoints me or pleases me greatly probably has more to do with my expectations, and how I face life generally, than the contents themselves. I’m grateful to have the day, regardless.

Today is a good day to begin again. Every journey needs a beginning. πŸ™‚

Well, sure, but… most things do begin first thing in the morning, on some morning, of one day or another… Why not today? Oh, right – it’s not the first of the year anymore. πŸ™‚

…Quitting already? It’s only the 3rd! πŸ˜‰

…You knew there’d be verbs involved, right? I mean… Seriously, there always are. Ready, for it? Let’s begin again. πŸ™‚

Choose. Begin again.

Choose. Begin again.

It started snowing moments ago. I wasn’t certain I was seeing actual snowflakes, since these were scooting past my window sideways, and there weren’t many flakes. There is clear sky overhead, gaps in heavy thunder-storm-y clouds. Flakes. Then no flakes. Well, damn it – is it snowing or isn’t it? Just as I decide that yes, it is snowing… it stops. The weather continues to toy with me, as I sip my coffee, and gaze out into the morning sky.

There are circumstances in which our choices make a great deal of immediate obvious difference, and others in which it’s not clear what difference any choice of ours might make, at all. On this strange winter morning, I smile recognizing that no amount of fussing over whether or not it is showing makes any difference whatever to the weather, itself. Really… no choice of mine ever does. I mean… we’re talking about the weather, here. Oh. Wait. Climate change. Maybe choices of mine do affect the weather… only… not immediately, and not in an obvious way…? Β Right. Choices do matter. The snow stops and starts a couple more times as I considerΒ the impact of my human behavior on the weather, over time, and the questions of “what counts as change?” and “what counts as being affected by me?” I chuckle quietly over the way scale can sometimes change a question, an answer, or the apparent circumstances. (One person spitting on my patio does not count as a rainstorm… on the other hand… dozens of people spitting on my patio may not be a rainstorm, but the gross mess they’ve made is certainly still going to seem significant in one or more ways. lol)

The snow stops. The snow starts. As snow storms go, it’s not particularly impressive. Just tiny flakes of sky dancing quickly past my window, never pausing to land anywhere.

If all goes according to plan, I’ll see my Traveling Partner today. It’s my last day of holiday time away from the office. Tomorrow… a new year, and a return to the office.Β I am more eager than hesitant, which says good things about the job, and confirms I’ve gotten the restful break from it that I needed. I pause, thinking about plans and planning. Today will be a good one for checking the calendar for the year-to-come and ensuring that I plan out sufficient out of office time to maintain wellness, and momentum. I make a note on my “to do list” so I don’t forget.

A new day, suitable for beginning again.

A new day, suitable for beginning again.

The snow stops. The few clouds still overhead are edged in gold as the sun rises. The snow starts again. Just scattered flakes on the wind, of no real consequence. I wonder how the weather is on my partner’s side of town? Yesterday the mild weather I was out in didn’t extend to his side of town at all; roads over there were frozen, driveways icy, and travel ideally avoided. My thoughts continue toward wondering if he’ll really make it over today… It’s a nice moment, I feel fond awareness that his safety matters, and that I would not struggle with painful disappointment if he should change his plans, today. Disappointment, sure, but not of that painful sort over which drama erupts, just garden variety minor “ah, well, another time then” disappointment, after which one simply moves on with the day quite contentedly, still smiling and feeling safely secure in the awareness that the change in circumstances and plan do not in any way change the amount of affection or high regard we have for each other. There are other days.

A mostly blue sky is revealed overhead as I finish off the final sips of my morning coffee, and no snow flakes. Birds of prey coast on air currents high above the tree tops. A small flock of doves is gathered under the bird feeder. They seem content with the morning, so far. So am I.

Sometimes "enough" doesn't require much.

Sometimes “enough” doesn’t require much.

Well, it’s about that time. It’s time to wrap up 2016, call it a memory, and begin again. Are you ready? Do you know where you are headed, on life’s journey? Are you well-provisioned for the days, weeks, months ahead? Expectations explicitly set? Assumptions checked against reality? Emotions balanced with reason? Have you prepared a reading list, a to do list, or some other sort of list to guide you down life’s sometimes-less-than-clearly-marked trail? What do you know? Have you asked the questions that best illuminate the path ahead?

About that path, the trail, the journey ahead… about life, generally… Are you ready? If not, are you at least standing on the trail head, ready to begin again?

It’s your journey. It’s your path. Your experience – all your own – you’ll even be crafting your own map, making many of your own rules, and all of your own choices. Where will the new year take you?

imag8161

What would you do with life if you could begin again? (It’s time to get started…) Β πŸ™‚