It’s a gray rainy Monday morning, just at daybreak. I’m sipping my iced coffee and working on catching up on things in order to begin the week. Looking over reminders, and setting new reminders for other things. Checking my “day plan” for work and my “to-do list” for things at home. Reflecting on the delightful weekend, surprisingly intimate and connected, spent in the good company of my Traveling Partner. Good food. Memorable moments. A feeling of warmth, affection, and emotional safety. Some things got done, but nothing at the expense of feeling good together, which was clearly the most important thing. I sit smiling, feeling merry, joyful, and loved.
…I don’t need to change a thing about this moment, at all, just relax and enjoy it, which is a lovely feeling…
I am deeply grateful for moments like these, sitting between moments of life and work, simply enjoying this delightful sliver of being, and “now”. I’m also grateful that I know to take my time with such moments, and really wring every bit of joy from them that they provide, savoring the moment, and the feelings. These are truly moments worthy of making room (and time) for. I breathe, exhale, and relax. On to the next moment, soon enough, there’s no hurry.
…This too will pass, at some point, and it will be time to begin again – but for now? It’s just me, this cup of coffee, and this lovely moment. I think I’ll stay awhile. 😀
I’m enjoying a few quiet minutes while goulash cooks-down in the dutch oven. I didn’t write this morning, but honestly didn’t have much to say. The moment was its own thing, and I was enjoying it entirely as it was, and my contentment became the content of my day, which I spent mostly on housekeeping and hanging out with my Traveling Partner. It was a day well-spent, and worthy of some sort of comfortable, hearty, and nourishing evening repast. 😀
I can hear the conversation of my Traveling Partner and the Anxious Adventurer in the other room. They are beginning a game of cribbage. I can’t actually hear the details of the words shared between them, I only hear the merry hum of their conversation mixed with the music playing in the background. What a lovely evening!
If I had sat down to write “how to have a pleasant day”, I’m not sure I could have guided anyone else through this experience sufficiently well for them to share it, or craft such a thing on their own. I have a satisfying sort of “got this one right” feeling, and I’m doing my best to avoid over-thinking things or reading any kind of tempting steady-state of being into one day. It is, however, quite a nice day as days go, and I sit with that for a moment, really savoring it, thinking over what got done without being smug about it, thinking about what got fucked-off for some other day without beating myself up over it, just enjoying the day precisely as it is, and has been. It’ll be ideal to finish the day in good company, over a tasty meal, and I smile to myself. I know I have come far enough that if I were to “ruin dinner” somehow, it wouldn’t be anything more than a moment of aggravation, and pivot to “plan B”, moving on to continuing to enjoy the day, without a tantrum or freak out over something as small as dinner.
…The fragance of the smoked paprika, garlic, and onions fills the house slowly…
What a nice weekend. I sit with that awhile, too. I don’t have any solutions, but I do know it is helpful to give more attention to our pleasant moments and small joys that we often tend to do. Savor your best moments – they’ll pass. Don’t give up on them prematurely. Give less thought to your most difficult moments – they’ll pass. Let them.
It’s unhealthy to let Other People’s Drama (however near or far away) live rent free in our heads. Let small shit stay small. Let things so far outside your control that you are literally helpless to change them (or uable even to be an actual bystander), let that shit just not even be part of your moment-to-moment awareness for a time. The world with be what it is, regardless, and the most useful we can do – often – is simply to be our best selves, living our best lives, in the most kind, enouraging, and practical way possible. Understanding that others around us may be having a very different experience. Perspective and sufficiency can make so much difference to an experience! I breathe, exhale, and relax. “Feels like things are looking up,” is a lovely way to feel – but it is “only a feeling”. Emotion. It is its own thing. Enjoy or endure emotions, as they are, and be kind to yourself and the people are around you. It’s a very human journey. (And I’m not telling you what to do – your choices and actions and will are your own. Do you. I’m just sharing things that I’ve learned or have been helpful for me, personally. Do with that what you will. I just think these are better practices than some alternatives.)
The music in the background stops. The playlist has ended. The ventilation comes on, and the scents from the kitchen are carried further. Smells good. I glance at the time; the clock is always ticking. I remember the package the Anxious Adventurer brought to me earlier – forgotten, left where I suggested he put it. I haven’t even opened it yet, and don’t recall what it may be. lol What a lovely evening – and it’s time to begin again, anyway.
I woke up slowly this morning, slipping gradually from strange distressing dreams of poverty, privation, and desperate futile “choices”. My dreams were anxious and restless. I dreamt of drinking terrible coffee on a sweltering morning, sitting on the edge of broken second-hand patio furniture – no AC, windows thrown wide to non-existent breezes through the night, hoping for a moment of cooler temperatures. I dreamt fretfully of having to choose between paying the electric bill and buying food, and of having to choose between filling a prescription or putting gas in an unreliable car. Would it even start next time I needed it? I dreamt of times gone by, and times I’ve never lived but recognize to be within the realm of possibility in a human lifetime. I dreamt of being in my final years, without means, without partnership, alone and deeply concerned about seeing another sunrise. I squinted at the rising sun in my dreams, anxious, then woke slowly to the lights coming on in my room, here, now, okay. Fucking hell. I’m not sure I’d call my dreams “nightmares” – there was no terror, really, only sorrow, and despair, and trying to so hard to make something of nothing last long enough to be… enough. My dreams were drenched in the anxiety of effort and insufficiency – and even in my dreams I found myself trying to find the best of it, to find the small joys in that dismal existence, sitting quietly with my coffee watching the sun rise. It wasn’t enough – but I felt some tiny fragment of hope and clung to it desperately.
…Fucking hell. I definitely do not need more nights like that…
Still, I sip my (relatively shitty) cup of coffee this morning, thinking about luck, circumstances, good fortune, and how very hard a person can work at life, at trying to provide for their family, at trying to live well within limited means – and how easy it is to fail at all of that, anyway. People get mired in despair because life can be hard. Very hard. Sometimes it not only seems like there is “no way out” – it may even be true in some limited sense. Rough. Sometimes doing better or “finding our way” requires really difficult decision-making, or even what feels like a complete “do-over”. Scary. None of that is easy. You know what is easy? Being a jerk to people when you do not know, or can not understand, what they are going through. Super easy to be a raging asshole, lacking in compassion and consideration. (For a choice bad example, we need only look to Congress trying to pass a budget.) Maybe don’t do that, though, right? Just don’t be a jerk to people.
Simple joys are worth savoring and it doesn’t take much effort to be kind.
It’s a good morning to reflect with gratitude on my good fortune, and where I am in life right now. I breathe, exhale, and relax. I embrace the quiet somewhat rainy looking morning with a measure of joy; I am not in that place where my dreams placed me. I’m not wealthy (not even “affluent”). I have enough to meet my basic needs. My Traveling Partner and I are comfortable together, managing life together. We provide for each other; it’s likely neither of us would be in the same place in life without each other. I smile thinking of the cute 3D printed earrings I am wearing this morning – he made them for me. That he made them with me in mind matters so much more than their intrinsic value. They’re plastic – super cute and I love them. Diamonds could not ever please me on the same level at all – their cold sparkle would only remind me of what I don’t have and can’t (or have not) achieved. They would exist to say something to someone else, and I would wear them only to “make a statement” – and one which I don’t personally feel moved to make. I’m not competing with the world. I’m walking my own path. I don’t aspire to diamond jewelry – only to loving and being loved, living well (within our limited means), and finding joy in a life that is enough. But that’s me. You do you, I guess. 😀
Who are you? What do you really want out of life? Where does your path lead? You will become what you practice – what are you practicing?
My mind wanders. I reflect awhile on how best to avoid being a jerk to people (even when I’m tired, or in pain, or aggravated by something). So many people suffering, doing what they can with too little, just trying to get by… I think awhile on being kind, being considerate, demonstrating concern and compassion, and how best to be the woman I most want to be. “Being and becoming” seems to be a long, sometimes rather slow journey from the greed and demanding inconsiderate foolishness of childhood to … something else. Something better, ideally, something practiced and thoughtful, and patient, and wise, and… fuck I’ve got work to do on this “being my best self” stuff! So many negative examples out there in the world, too – I know who I don’t want to be. I know how I don’t want to behave. I guess it is a starting point, eh?
The clock is ticking, but there’s time to begin again. Do better. You have choices.
Well, that’s Mother’s Day behind me, already – “the year is nearly half over”, I think to myself, sipping my coffee and looking out the office window on a dreary gray morning. “At least it isn’t cold, too”, I add as an afterthought.
It was a lovely weekend spent in the good company of my Traveling Partner. I ended up letting most of the housekeeping and whatnot just fall by the wayside, to be handled another day. I kept the kitchen tidy, did a couple chores and errands that really couldn’t wait, and enjoyed time with my beloved. Time well-spent, no regrets – we don’t live for housework, we do the housework in order to live well. Sometimes there are better choices. 😀
In memory of a Dear Friend, a quiet corner of the garden.
I did manage to get into the garden a bit, which was lovely, and I planted a couple tomato plants to replace the ones the deer ate to ground a few days ago. A rose in my “memory garden” is blooming, and I found some cute beaded decorations to add there (I think my Dear Friend would have enjoyed the whimsy of these, and their colorful sparkle). More than any of that, as delightful as it was (and is), I am enjoying the recollection of time spent at my Traveling Partner’s side. Video games, 3D print projects, just hanging out, enjoying meals together, and getting some useful coaching from my beloved on the new solar hydro mini-garden (which will be planted very soon, so I needed to know how to mix the nutrients for that, and he has so much more experience); it was a delightful weekend.
An old favorite is blooming early. “Nozomi”
I love seeing the roses begin to bloom. It’s a lovely time in the garden. The curry plant is covered in buds, too, and some of the lavender is as well. The strawberries have actual berries beginning to ripen, and still more blossoms. The romaine is thriving, and I had radishes enough to serve with a meal this weekend. I even boldly planted a couple of hardy smallish varieties of fig in large pots this weekend, hoping they do sufficiently well to be planted into the garden somewhere, in a year or two (they’re pretty wee, at this point, and likely to be inadvertantly mowed or stepped on). I love “edible landscape”, particularly in hard times. Such things give me a feeling of security and stability, and “good living”, and I definitely benefit from feeling that these days. I can’t do much (or, really, anything) about the crazy terrible bullshit going on in Washington DC, beside simply not succumb to terrible behavior, myself, and I find having “hope” available to see and feel in my day-to-day life makes enduring the bullshit going on elsewhere just a little less fraught with despair. It’s a small thing, this small garden, but the return on my time and effort is huge.
A wee fig sapling, getting a start in a pot.
I sip my coffee grateful for my good fortune, and grateful for my good partnership, my pleasant home, my good job – I know things could be much worse (and that for many many people they very much are). I breathe, exhale, and relax. There are verbs involved, and I have to do my part, but there’s also a large measure of “luck”, “good fortune”, and circumstance that I get value from, and should not take for granted. Circumstances can change. So, I make a point of holding space for gratitude, and this morning’s gray and dreary backdrop to the day is a handy reminder that things could be worse. I sigh quietly to myself. I look fondly at the desk organizer and wee desktop waste recepticle my Traveling Partner made for me, and grin happily to myself. I feel very loved.
…Suddenly I am missing my beloved most ferociously, as if he were very far away, or it had been some long time since we last embraced. lol Strange to love to fiercely, and so enduringly. We are, afterall, just humans being human. My reflection smiles back at me in the window. I am fortunate to be so well-loved.
I’ve got a nice moment on which to begin a new day, right here, now. I look over my email, my task list, my day plan, and remind myself of phone calls I need to make, an appointment I’ve got later in the afternoon, and think briefly about what to do about dinner, although it is too soon to give it much thought. Another sigh. Another smile. Another moment. The clock is ticking, and it’s time to begin again.
I’m sipping my coffee, back aching, and contemplating the day ahead of me. The world seems ever to be in turmoil, and I find myself wondering if maybe that’s just the way of worlds? Humans being human, stumbling in the darkness, failing to live up to their own expectations, trying and trying again – sometimes without changing what they’re doing that didn’t work the first time. We’re strange creatures; we have immense capacity for reason and intelligent thought, but often choose not to make use of it. Isn’t that strange? We have the power to change how we feel and what we do, how we experience the world around us, what we think of this or that, and to deepen our understanding and knowledge over time, to choose differently based on experience and learning, and sometimes we just… don’t bother. Isn’t that peculiar?
The weekend ahead of me is filled with choices and opportunities. Will newly started seedlings have enough roots to be ready to plant into the new little solar hydro garden that my Traveling Partner made for me? Will the deer eat more of my tomato plants? Will I find a pair of jeans that fit as well as this pair that is falling apart and can’t really be worn anymore in spite of being my favorite pair? Will I make “the perfect cup of coffee” and manage to enjoy it before it gets cold? Will I take time to finish the book I’m reading? Will I paint or write poetry or gaze at the stars in the hour before dawn? Will my Traveling Partner delight me with some unexpected token of his affection crafted for me by his loving hands? Will the Anxious Adventurer share a funny meme, or cook a tasty meal for the family, or give me a hand with the irrigation project for the west side garden? I think about the possibilities without setting expectations or making assumptions. The possibilities are nearly endless – what brings them to life will be the choices we each make.
…”Choose wisely,” I remind myself, “the clock is ticking”…
A rose blooming in the garden
Still, choices or no choices, actions or no actions, busy or not-so-busy, it’s worth making time to also simply enjoy each moment. Like the roses in my garden, each moment is unique. Unrepeatable. “Once in a lifetime”, however similar it may seem to some other moment quite like it. Being present – really present – slows the clock, and enriches each experience. Mindfulness as a practice has its greatest value in that quality above most others; presence. It teaches presence. It’s a practice, though, and it requires effort, and the doing of the thing. There are verbs involved, and choices. It’s not a passive happenstance that I can count on, it’s a choice I have to make, and a practice that requires practicing.
I sit more fully upright, hoping to ease the arthritis pain in my back. I’m aware of it there in the background. Does it hint at a change in the weather? Is it due to effort or strain? Does that even matter? I sigh quietly to myself and take something to ease the discomfort somewhat. I sip my coffee, and enjoy the moment without regard to the pain. Escaping it may not be an option, but neither do I have to let it control me.
Feels like a good day, generally. If it didn’t, I could choose to change things about my experience and perhaps improve it. That’s not necessary today; I feel okay for most values of “okay”, and I’m not weighed down by the foolishness, violence, and sorrows of the world. Not right now. It’s a pretty morning. There are flowers blooming in my garden (and beyond), and the day feels sort of “easy”, generally. I sit with that feeling, grateful and appreciative, not wanting to waste the moment by rushing it or taking it for granted, although I’m eager to get to the other side of the work day, and head home to my beloved and my garden.
I breathe, exhale, and relax, gazing out the window in front of me as cars stream into the parking lot below. It’s that time. Time to begin again.
Evening Light 