Archives for posts with tag: dahlias

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.

This is not a travel post. I say so simply because the title might lead one to believe, for a moment, that it is – especially if stumbling on this blog for the first time, and being unfamiliar with my rather loose and abusive way with words. (Not abusive of other people, no, abusive of the words themselves, I’m afraid, exploiting them night and day for metaphors, and forcing them to behave in accordance with my will, and whim.) So, here we all are. It’s early, I’m feeling playful, and… right. Let’s begin, shall we? 🙂

Flowers are a lovely place to begin, with a deep breath, and a moment of wonder.

Flowers are a lovely place to begin, with a deep breath, and a moment of wonder.

I’m still contemplating perspective. There seems so much to learn from that. My three foundations stones to becoming the woman I most want to be are rock steady, reliably serve me well, and can be counted on to be some part of ‘restoring order’ when chaos begins to take over. I have grown to count on them: mindfulness, perspective, and sufficiency. Perspective proved its worth yesterday, when my good mood slipped, in a moment of rather childlike feelings of loneliness, isolation, and distance, which overcame me in the evening. My internal insistence on gaining – and maintaining – healthy perspective in the moment, and being mindfully aware of my emotions, and allowing myself their utter humanity in a kind way resulted in writing, re-writing, considering, re-considering, drafting, editing, contemplating words in email form for some time, stripping out the drama, trying again…all to find my way to simply communicating to my traveling partner that in that moment missing him seemed almost unbearable, and I felt sad without that connection, not just of flesh but of heart as well. I suspect I failed more than I succeeded, but waking this morning I find myself content that I made such a solid effort, and managed to remain largely very positive, and found that emotional resilience exists, and that balance was possible. Still…A+ for will, for intention, for effort… perhaps a C, at best, for my imperfect results…and the outcome was off the charts for success, because Love is what it is, and does what it does, when we allow it.

What we see of a 'bigger picture' is rarely 'all there is'...

What we see of a ‘bigger picture’ is rarely ‘all there is’…

It didn’t hurt that he phoned me straight away, reading in my email that I felt disconnected and lonely. It was lovely. A short call, a connection across the distance, a moment to hear each other’s voices.

...What matters to us, as individuals, in the moment, is as much as matter of choice as happenstance...

…What matters to us, as individuals, in the moment, is as much as matter of choice as happenstance…

(Notice I say nothing about whether or not these are effortless choices. Choice generally does require some effort, some exertion of will, some intention.)

...our focus, where we direct our attention and our effort, change what we see and understand of the world. We are each having our own experience.

…our focus, where we direct our attention and our effort, changes what we see and understand of the world. We are each having our own experience.

What is important to a bee, on a summer day, in a field of flowers, does not set a standard in my own experience of ‘what matters most’, nor does the individual understanding of ‘what matters most’ held by any one other human whose experience abuts or overlaps my own; it’s more than a requirement that I set my own standard, choose my own course, follow my own map – it is unavoidable.

Taking a step back brings perspective; the small stings and stresses of life are small indeed viewed in a broader context.

Taking a step back brings perspective; the small stings and stresses of life are small indeed viewed in a broader context.

So, this morning I am contemplating what I am learning about perspective. My current notions suggest to me it is essential to my long-term emotional health, and for living life from a place of contentment. My experience of life is something like an unimaginably vast jigsaw puzzle – with one piece missing. Over time, more pieces are gently placed in my puzzle, and I see more of the picture developing before me…and there’s more.

However lovely the picture in my puzzle, before it becomes a picture, the puzzle must be completed. It's about the journey, more than the destination.

However lovely the picture in my puzzle, before it becomes a picture, the puzzle must be completed. It’s about the journey, more than the destination.

Today is a good day to practice what works. Today is a good day to reflect and consider how the pieces fit, and what I can learn from my experience. Today is a good day for perspective. Today is a good day to acknowledge my challenges as my own, cherish my efforts, and recognize my successes; the smallest success in life is worthy of celebration. Today is a good day to put down baggage. Today is a good day to laugh over common struggles. Today is a good day to change the world.

I’m  not blue, and it is Monday. I was allowing my mind to coast a bit, considering first this, then that, hoping this morning’s writing would coalesce into something coherent, at least. I thought of songs I know themed on Monday and went to Google. It still hasn’t stopped surprising me how much coincidence, chance, and serendipity gently bring my attention to things that support my growth, my progress, or enhance it somehow. This morning, my Google adventure resulted in finding a blog with a post about songs themed on Mondays.  An interesting find, worth exploring further, and another traveler’s narrative.

The weekend was mostly about exploring spontaneity, and practicing doing so mindfully. For me, this proved to be an exercise in strangeness, and overall I enjoyed it enough to find it was well spent, although I don’t care to utterly abandon my preference for planning. 🙂

Flowers and sunshine.

Flowers and sunshine, whether I plan them or not.

Yesterday morning I shared breakfast with a dear friend, and took a stroll through the local farmer’s market, and beyond that spent the day in study and contemplation. I took a chance on a lovely day and did some yoga outside. In the afternoon, I lost track of time, meditating in a shady spot for what turned out to be a couple of hours well spent. Later, studying spontaneously became napping, and while I’m sure I needed the rest, it resulted in being awake far into the night, hyper-vigilant and overly aware of our house guest, my partner’s Dad, staying over.  I’m hoping I am sufficiently well-rested that the short night doesn’t come at an emotional cost later. Of course, there are choices that matter; choices affect thinking and behavior.

A new week begins. In these first moments of Monday I gently remind myself of the work ahead, of the professional self I carry to the office, of how that does or does not fit in with supporting my needs over time. I no longer allow an employer to call my shots as a human being; I am more than the sum of my professional skills.

I miss my traveling partner fiercely. There’s nothing to be done about it, of course, besides tend my heart with care, and honor and respect my emotional experience.

The resident feline models ideal behaviors for 'how to miss someone'; she takes care of her own business, until they return.

The resident feline models ideal behaviors for ‘how to miss someone’; she takes care of her own business, until they return.

I feel vaguely unsettled and uneasy this morning. It’s a small thing. The morning is a quiet and delightfully still morning…but there is a stranger sleeping in the room next to mine. I know, I know… my partner’s Dad. That’s family, right? Well…yes and no. Her family. For me, he’s a man I’ve met a number of times…3? 4? Hung out with briefly. I don’t actually ‘know’ him. I take my partner’s word for it that it is safe to have him in the house – that’s the simple truth of it. He is her family, she vouches for him as a human being. I don’t actually know him. I must have given her an odd look in the evening when she said something pleasant in passing about me having my quiet morning, this morning, since she’d be gone by… because, really, although the morning is quiet, the subtle tense awareness of a stranger in this space is palpable. I don’t really know how to communicate to someone else that this is an uncomfortable feeling for me. I am on alert, waiting…watching the clock.

I remind myself how unlikely it is that anything alarming, dangerous, frightening, or unexpected might happen due to his presence. I take some deep calming breaths. I return my awareness to the moment and cherish my wounded heart that will most likely never trust a human being solely because they are a parent, even of someone I care for (perhaps especially of someone I care for; I know them, and the damage left behind in childhood’s passing).  What reason do I have for that sort of trust? Then in a moment of beautiful perspective, I think of a friend and our broader circle of shared friends, all on ‘baby watch’; she’s past due and eagerly awaiting the birth of her son. How beautiful and wonderful to see a child already so well-loved, waited for, prepared for, who will be received in such total love! She is a woman of remarkable heart and grace, and wholly suited to motherhood, not because she has nothing else to offer the world, but because she chooses to offer her love as a mother, in addition to so much more, and does so skillfully. If I could have chosen someone to mother me, as I headed for mortal form, surely I would choose such as she. So… parents, not all bad. lol

Choosing awareness. Choosing presence. Choosing 'now'.

Choosing awareness. Choosing presence. Choosing ‘now’.

Balance. Mindfulness. Perspective. Sufficiency. Today is a good day for big ideas that require only one word. Today is a good day to change the world.