Archives for posts with tag: being and becoming

Yesterday, in the heat of late afternoon, I took a dip in the pool. Not a big deal; some people swim every day. I went to the pool to beat the heat and the smooth clear surface looked so refreshing… and still. The pool was entirely empty. I looked at the sign on the fence “Do Not Swim Alone”. That’s good practical advice… and on some other day I might have trudged back to my apartment and postponed my dip in the pool for another day. Yesterday, I disregarded the sign – after making eye contact with the landlady on her patio, who smiled and waved a ‘go ahead’ my way. Well… second best, I supposed, someone knows I’m here.

Some people jump into a swimming pool. Some people wade in slowly. Some people only wade. Some people swim quite well, with good attention to form. Some people are splashers. Some people just drift lazily by on rafts or tubes. I happen to be the sort who wades in slowly, and enjoys the water fairly gently. I am cautious about joining in water games, and don’t prefer to be dunked “playfully”. Chaos and damage, even in the pool. Yesterday, though, there was no one there but me. No one to tease, or nag, or splash me, just me – surrounded by cool clear water, and blue sky over head. I stepped into the water, and slowly walked deeper, feeling the water rise around me, cooling me. I continued to slowly step deeper, until I was poised on my toes, swaying with the current of the filtration, and my own movement, water lapping at my chin. I was refreshed, cooled, and buoyed, rocking and swaying, effortless, weightless… it was quite lovely and peaceful. I paddled several times from one end to the other – no one giving me crap over preferring to keep my face from actually being under water. (I can’t breathe it, so I’d prefer generally not to be immersed entirely in it, just saying.) I floated endlessly, on my back, watching the sky turn. Confident in my buoyancy, just floating. I watched the ripples shift and change in the pool as I moved through the water. I watched the lattice of light and shape on the bottom of the pool shift and rearrange itself. Eventually, completely cooled down and refreshed, I returned home.

I’ve not had the chance to just utterly relax and enjoy a swimming pool entirely to myself before. It was lovely. So relaxed and peaceful. I’m definitely going to do that again – and the result of doing so once is that I feel considerably less hesitant to use the pool, generally, and less reluctant to enjoy it ‘my way’.

Tonight is ‘date night’… perhaps my traveling partner would enjoy beating the heat of late afternoon in the pool with me? (No pool where he lives.) That could be fun. Ah, but if he doesn’t care to do so, it isn’t going to stop me going back some other day, another time, and whiling away more of the summer heat in the cool blue water under hot blue sky. 🙂

Beginning again.

Beginning again.

Sometimes, the things that seem most healing in the moment are not very fancy at all. 🙂 Today is a good day to enjoy summer. Today is a good day to “be like water“. Today is a good day to float.

It’s a gentle seeming morning, expected to become a live action display of how a broiler works, later today. I’m cooling the apartment down now (no A/C; the windows in this unit are too small for the AC my traveling partner got me for my birthday last year), and if I do so skillfully, it will just be getting really uncomfortable inside at about the point I can open up the windows again, and exchange cooler outside air, for indoor air that has grown stifling over hours. As plans go, it’s adequate on all but the hottest days… of which today is anticipated to be one. No stress over it; I’ll get by. It will be a pleasant evening for cold showers, tall glasses of iced tea, and indulging in relaxed activities like reading this book, or watching that movie. 🙂

I take similar steps each summer day, intended to keep the apartment comfortable. Each day that I do, I become slightly more skillful through action, observation of outcome, and adjusting my actions based on what I learned. It’s a repeating cycle – and refinement of what works, into what works better over time, is one of the great powers of repetition.

One of the other great powers of repetition is learning. Simply that. If we do something enough, we learn it. If we hear it enough, we believe it to be true – no kidding, we lose all perspective on ‘facts’ if we hear a slogan often enough, spoken with conviction. There’s science behind that. It’s something to be mindful of…and it’s one of those qualities of mind that can be harnessed and utilized in my favor, or left unattended to turn against me unexpectedly. It’s also a characteristic leveraged by advertisers, campaigning politicians, and quite a few other organizations that touch our lives via slogan (teams, schools, government agencies…) Thought-provoking. How will I put this information to work on life’s journey? How can it benefit the woman in the mirror to understand how the mind works, just a bit more than I did? (More verbs? More verbs.)

Taking a closer look for greater perspective.

Taking a closer look for greater perspective; if nothing else, the journey is scenic.

Today is a good day to explore the world – and the workings of my own mind. Maybe I change something, maybe I don’t, there sure is a lot to learn, either way.

This morning I slept a bit later than usual, and the sun was making her way into the sky and spilling like gold into the living room, through the open patio door. I’d been up much earlier, very briefly, and only long enough to remember to open the patio door to cool pre-dawn breezes, before returning to sleep. I’m glad I did, and not so much because it’s going to be a hot day, but more because it was a moment of great delight to see the very air around me transformed into gold, when I woke later. Beautiful!

The golden dawn enticed me out onto the lawn to meditate. It was still quite early, and there was neither foot traffic, nor sounds of neighbors starting their own days; it was entirely quiet but for the sounds of distant traffic and birdsong. Dew tickled my toes. A chorus of small birds landed in the tops of the tall meadow grass separating the community from the park and trees beyond.  A cat stalked slowly along the edge of the grass. A large blue jay landed nearby and walked toward me, curiously, cocking his head from side to side and checking me out thoroughly before taking off. I wasn’t facing the playground and didn’t see it begin to fill with children and early morning parenting, although I heard the laughter. Meditation ended when I was tumbled from my cushion by something fairly large, hairy, and playful; someone’s “puppy” got away from them and took off across the meadow. A rather large puppy. A Bernese Mountain Dog puppy, according the to panting Mom who’d sprinted behind him (I assume; she arrived almost on top of him, breathless) yelling “he’s friendly! he’s friendly!”. She was apologetic for breaking the peace of my morning, I was all laughter, as I’d somehow ended up with a lapful of large puppy, as well as a toddler and another somewhat older child, who arrived shortly after pup and mother, all childlike eagerness to share tales of their puppies adventures, and to assure me he’s friendly. lol No regrets here; how else does one pack so much laughter and pure unreserved joy into less than 10 minutes? 🙂 (I’m grateful I’ve entered this later stage of life appearing approachably friendly, instead of landing on ‘mean lady down the block’ – it was a legitimate risk, frankly. 🙂 )

There was still time to water the patio garden before the sun begins to beat down on it. Time to water the vegetable garden. I took out the trash. The recycling went to the bin, too. I cleaned the bathroom, humming a happy tune. I had just finished thoroughly (contentedly, happily) vacuuming the apartment, contemplating “Who Cooked Adam Smith’s Dinner?“, which I am reading, when I realized it’s not even 7 am… and I haven’t had my coffee. lol Are puppies and children all it takes to completely wreck what there is to my morning routine? I laugh at myself, and feel a moment of greater understanding (and sympathy) for what unruly lives full-time parents must have, and double-check that I remembered to take morning medication. I still haven’t had my coffee…

Mmmm... Life is good.

Mmmm… Life is good.

I hadn’t expected to spend yesterday evening with my traveling partner, until the moment he said he’d be over later. It was a lovely evening, well-spent in every way. The time spent in the company of shared friends felt warm and nurturing. The time spent alone was close, connected, intimate and easy. It was so nearly the perfect evening, the ideal moment spent wrapped in love, that I can’t even complain about how beastly hot it was; I don’t remember it that way. Love matters more.

So, I start the day routine already in tatters, unconcerned about any of that so long as I am able to take care of the woman in the mirror with some skill, and enjoy my experience without creating chaos or misery in the world. I’m okay with that – over the past few weeks, I’ve gotten more skilled at spontaneity. 🙂  It’s not so scary.

A new day like an anticipated gift; I may know it's coming, but I don't know what's in it until it arrives.

A new day like an anticipated gift; I may know it’s coming, but I don’t know what’s in it until it arrives.

I’ve no idea what today holds, beyond the morning so far… and I don’t feel any urgency driving a need to know more sooner; I’m cool with gently coasting from moment to moment, living life, experiencing experiences, and converting life time into memories. I haven’t taken much time of this extraordinary quality over a lifetime. I sit contentedly sipping my coffee, grateful to have taken the opportunity, and appreciating having the partnership that allows me to comfortably do so. Until I took the time for myself, I didn’t understand how badly I needed it, or what value it would have to have given this gift to myself; a healing journey takes some time, and it’s slow going when progress is saved for long weekends, the rare quiet evening solo, and ‘vacations’. This has been a worthwhile choice.

I became more aware (yesterday? a day or two ago?) recently that I feel actually ready to return to work. It’s an interesting feeling. I also find that I have new respect (and appreciation) for businesses that specifically give employees a hiatus from work on occasion. It makes sense, and strikes me now as a really beautiful way to prevent/heal burn out, or ensure valued employees actually do have some life to experience outside the workplace, for real. This morning, I sit down to job search tasks with contentment and enthusiasm. It feels good – and different. It makes sense to get back to work at the end of the summer… Funny how that rhythm of life left behind in childhood still lingers in my sense of what makes sense to me as an adult. 🙂

Today is a good day for being… and becoming.

Yesterday is behind me now. I’m glad to see it gone. As days goes, it was a bit like Snow White’s poisoned apple, perfectly lovely and enticing on the outside… tasting of bitterness and rot. The morning was a rare delight, a storm of positive emotions, and spent awash in feelings of love, loving, and being loved. The day’s delights took a hit from unexpected (and unwanted) email from an ex, a message from another ex (similarly unwelcome), and from there just sort of dropped into an abyss of heart-break, and it just wasn’t apparent going into the evening that it would be that sort. I’m glad the day is over with.

I woke with a headache. Eyes scratchy. Heart heavy. Feeling pretty… crappy. Sad. Wrung out. Tossed aside like bad fruit, unworthy. It wasn’t my favorite wake up.

I made coffee, resigned to existing another day. The misty raining morning seemed quite appropriate. I do okay. I’ve weathered other, far more horrible storms. I’ll survive others in the future. We are born to suffering, because we choose suffering. I started the morning prepared to endure more…. Love’s funny. Well… funny/not funny. I sure wasn’t laughing yesterday evening. I’m not really laughing, now.

I made my coffee and sat down to write. My traveling partner woke earlier than usual, and with the skill I know him for, put me back on the path of love… I’ll just call it magic. Sure, there were verbs involved. 🙂

Now the morning seems… right. I feel content. Calmed. Soothed. Loved. I sip my coffee listening to the rain fall. My head still aches, but now it’s just a headache, instead of some sign of personal failure, or the hallmark of great tragedy. Yeah… this injury makes a lot of life’s details far more dramatic (intense?) than they have any reason to be.

Contentment isn't so far out of reach; it's about being here, now, and recognizing it when I have enough.

Contentment isn’t so far out of reach; it’s about being here, now, and recognizing it when I have enough.

It’s just a day. I’m just a person. This is just one human experience. Love still matters most. I become what I practice… and I’m okay right now. 🙂

I’m sipping my morning coffee later than usual, after sleeping in a bit, unexpectedly. It’s too hot to drink. I’m okay sipping it carefully, “testing it” for future, safer, drinking. There’s no rush. The sun is up, the morning is unfolding into a new day. I feel rested… and eager. It’s Thursday! (Date Night) Magical.

Just a cup of coffee and some lens flare; we bring the whimsy, the poetry, the music. Magic moments are created by our perception, and acceptance.

Just a cup of coffee and some lens flare; I bring the whimsy, the poetry, the music. the joie de vivre. 

When I first met my traveling partner, I already understood my role in making the magic of things like Thanksgiving and Christmas, and after many years, I still happily and enthusiastically throw myself into the whimsy and fun of making that magic happen. I didn’t recognize, strangely enough, how much went into the magic of love and loving, and still held onto expectations that somehow it just happens. I over-invested pretty heavily in peace-keeping endeavors any time there was any hint of conflict or difference, fearfully driven by old baggage, chaos, and damage. I was generous, hospitable, and kind (if rather cluelessly so), but those behaviors were interspersed with some frightful (sometimes symptomatic, sometimes just nastiness born of having been permitted to continue with bullshit) bad behavior. Chaos. Volatility. Tantrums. I’m a fucking adult. It had to be hard for people loving me. Hell, it was hard; I was there.

Today, I make magic. Small magic, but nonetheless, magic. I’ll tidy up, and make a point to do some things I know matter more to my partner than they do to me, just because they do matter to him. I’ll put extra time and care into how I feel, myself, and how I look – it is ‘date night’, after all. 🙂 I’ll make a quick trip to the store for a handful of things I just don’t keep in the house, generally, that I know he very much enjoys, so those things are here for him, and I’ll double-check for pantry and medicine cabinet items he might need, and ensure I haven’t run low. All very practical stuff. I’ve learned some excellent practices for nurturing love’s logistical needs.

I still have so much to learn about love! There’s magic in intimacy, in connection, in touch… those are trickier, and rely on verbs with real nuance, requiring greater awareness, more sensitivity… I am regularly challenged to the limits of my current understanding of love, and still eager to take another step, love more deeply, love more intently, love with more skill… and we’re not even talking about the sex piece, yet. LOL So much to learn to love truly well.  There’s patience, and perspective, and listening deeply, and speaking gently, and making room for strong emotion, and surrender, and honoring the sacred ‘other’ that is my partner’s tender heart… So much to learn. I stay it’s a lot to learn less as a statement of frustration, and more like an eager student, opening an enormous text-book for the first time, and looking at the table of contents in awe. Every lesson is worthy. Every lesson builds on the lessons already learned, in anticipation of lessons to come. It’s big, “the book of love“, and I don’t expect to finish it cover to cover even in a lifetime.

Tears slide down my face – the weird happy/sad tears of profound joy experienced fully and also in the context of how fleeting joy must be, just to be joy. (Tears that actually become tears, because my TBI can be a major impediment to the sort of emotional regulation most people take for granted.) Then I laugh at myself – tears in the sunshine. I have this powerful love for this singular human being, without any real understanding why I feel the way I do, or whether it will outlast this fragile vessel, or even if the feelings I feel are ‘real’ – I mean, as real as this table top, or this sunny morning. We’re both so very human, dragging our own customized baggage all about everywhere we go, and sometimes sharing the load. Are the things that fill me up from the inside as real as the struggles that impinge on my joy from external sources? Maybe? Probably? Does it even matter? Maybe love is a placebo… would I suddenly stop loving if it were? (No. No, I wouldn’t…I’d probably use the powers of the mind to intensify the experience. lol) The tears don’t last – they’re more a moment of appreciation that became too visceral. 🙂

I sit smiling, sunshine spilling over my hands on the keyboard. I sip my coffee contentedly. It’s a lovely day – and a good one for love and loving. A good one for sex, too, sure, but that’s not the point – and as much as I want all that, too, I want to be clear (even with myself) that it isn’t ‘about’ sex. I conflated sex and love for much of a lifetime, and it’s hard to sort out all the baggage from that mess, but it’s a worthy project; the love matters most. Real love. Adult love. Romantic love. Sexual love. It’s just that the intimacy leads – not the other way round, that much I’ve learned. Without a foundation in intimacy, and an emotional connection (of some kind), sex seems (to me, at this point in life) repetitive, physical, distant, and somewhat peculiarly unsatisfying, however good the sex is technically, and suitable only for breeding. A bit annoying, really – I used to be good at sex. lol In my twenties I wasn’t even emotionally capable of actual intimacy, embarrassingly, obviously so, when I recall key moments when one lover or another with a deeper understanding attempted to get more from my heart that I knew to offer; I was still too broken for any of that.

I listen to love songs in the sunshine. I let the smile on my face become a slow groove that sends love-chills up my spine and butterflies to my tummy. I love Love. 🙂 I have a near infinite capacity for it (you probably do, too) – I’d happily love everyone good and decent and loving with all the infinite moments of love my heart has to offer… if only I knew how to connect deeply with each one, on their own terms (and mine), in an authentic and intimate way. I’ll keep practicing – there’s too little love in the world as it is. Practicing love more often is a goodness. Every moment we practice to treat those we love just a bit better than we did before really matters; from there we can learn to love the world. 🙂

Today is a good day to practice loving. There are verbs involved. Today is a good day to be love. I think I’ll grab some verbs…