Archives for posts with tag: I am my own cartographer

Well damn. I guess it’s no wonder I haven’t found what I really earnestly want out of a wee little home of my own in all my searching so far; I haven’t been looking for what I want, in the first place. I’m glad I figured that out before I succeeding in purchasing something that would feel… over-compromised, crowded in, or uncomfortable for some reason. The art of living a value of sufficiency sometimes seems to come down to just being okay with things.

So, I took a step back to reconsider what I do want, and to regroup, figure out my resources, and what the path ahead will require from me. I’ve no problems with beginning again. πŸ™‚

Today is a gentle day. I’m enjoying it quietly, watching birds at the feeder, sipping coffee on the patio, doing yoga on the lawn as the morning warmed up before the park filled with families. I’m not inclined to make the day any more complicated than this. Maybe I give myself a manicure later… or maybe not… maybe I do a load of laundry… maybe I don’t. I’m in enough pain to put taking care of me at the top of my priorities today, so far that’s simply been a matter of taking it easy and enjoying the morning. Totally a worthy activity on a pleasantly quiet Sunday. πŸ™‚

Today is a good day to relax, and take care of this fragile vessel. Today it’s enough to be here for the woman in the mirror. πŸ™‚

Seriously. Give this some thought; all it takes to make the world better is that we each take steps to do so. No kidding. Just don’t be a dick to other people. Be kind. Be giving. Be open. Love. Treat all people well. Be genuine. Relax. Enjoy life without ruining it for other people. Be inclusive. Be curious. Assume positive intent. Set clear boundaries and take good care of yourself. Did I mention being kind? Yeah, do a lot more of that. Be patient. Be compassionate. Just be. Be here. Be present. Listen deeply. Recognize there is much you do not know. Clean as you go. Respect boundaries. Get consent. Be kind. Be kinder than that. Let go of assumptions and expectations. Be mindful that people are not property.

Remember the part about being kind? Do even more of that. Yep. Verbs. Omg – and all the practice? Yeah, that goes on indefinitely. Easy? Well… easy-ish. Do your best. Do that better tomorrow. Keep at it; we become what we practice.

We can begin again together, this morning, right now. One thing at a time. Start with the person in the mirror. Be kind to that person too. πŸ™‚

…Please don’t tell me this won’t change the world. We can’t know that until we’ve actually tried. πŸ˜‰

It’s an interesting morning, so far. Calm. Content. “Quiet” (for some values of quiet; Kendrick Lamar reminding me to be “Humble” on headphones here). I feel very much… myself. Β Gently, authentically, comfortably this one particular human being that I am. Nice. I should probably just stop right here and get on with that – it’s a feeling worth savoring. πŸ™‚

You know I haven’t “always” been “here”, right? You can also extrapolate from the first paragraph that I am not “always” “here”, generally, right? (Otherwise, this moment is not noteworthy in any way, merely a state of being.) I begin the journey somewhere very different. πŸ™‚ I say “begin” rather than “began” because I have grown to accept the idea that I am fairly persistently and regularly beginning again – even to stand still. To move forward, to grow, to get from a beginning to a planned end point that includes willful forward progress requires quite a bit more than simple practices and beginning again; it requires practice, beginnings, endings, letting go, reaching out, opening up, acceptance, change, choices… and so many iterations of self along the way that ancient anxiety regularly reaches out to attempt to stall me with fearful whispers that I may “lose myself” or perhaps my way, or maybe love itself will be lost as a consequence of change. It’s an illusion; the journey is always in progress, and I amΒ always taking steps in some direction – even standing still requires effort.

I still have bad days. I still face challenges. I still cry. I still have nightmares. I still hurt sometimes. I still face fears. I still have doubts. I still feel the sting of insecurity. I still deal with loneliness. Still. That’s actually an important word here. I’m here. Still. That’s no small thing. By itself, the fact that I live is a measure of progress. πŸ™‚ For a long while I didn’t really ‘get’ that there was something beyondΒ ‘living’… I had to embrace just being alive before I could see over that wall at a more distant horizon – thriving. The journey continues.

Storms pass.

This morning feels different. Feels good. I’m feeling comfortably poised between emotion and reason, equally aware of internal, and external. Open to love. This is a good place to exist in this moment. I feel content, and open to changed perspective and new ideas. Is this thriving? Is it time for this journey to step beyond the familiar to new territory? I wonder…

What does a beginning look like?

…And I begin again. πŸ™‚

I ended the evening, yesterday, in pain. A lot of pain. Stiff from driving, too. I had an unexpectedly delightful day doing nothing much that was actually productive, which for being a Saturday seems just fine to me.

Yesterday. Lush and beautiful and filled with the scent of flowers, trees, and meadows.

I had a car for the day, and took advantage of that to go hang out with my Traveling Partner and a friend around lunch time. Good food, good times. I spent the rest of the afternoon smiling, driving out in the countryside, through smaller, more rural, more distant (from work) communities admitting that I know damned well I don’t want to reside in suburbia full-time forever, and realizing I am looking for a house that is too compromised for location. (Simply put; it would be worth having to drive the commute, and have that commute still be an hour-long, to come home to a little house in the countryside.) It was delightful to be sufficiently rural to stop the car and hear only breezes and birdsong, rather than the continuous low hum, buzz, and rumble of humanity’s ongoing earthbound conquest of resources. I don’t think I’m ready to live in a bus, or an RV, or a yurt… but I’m probably less removed from that consideration than I think I am. lol

By the end of that delightful day, I was in more pain than I could easily manage, and had gone from “oh, I think I like this particular compact SUV quite enough to get one…” to “damn, I am hurt – I definitely don’t want to get one of these… I need something that doesn’t cause me to feel beaten by a professional boxer every time I spend half a day driving!” I’d rather have something that feels as comfortable to me as my Traveling Partner’s car…but about half its size. lol I find myself disliking the way life seems to dangle shiny things in front of my monkey mind to go wanting for. It irritates me to want more than I need.

Last night I crashed fairly early, being quite sleepy and tired. My sleep was restless, and interrupted by one of the more terrible nightmares I’ve had in a long while. I was trapped in it, too, and unable to “lucid dream” or alter the experience in any way. “Terrifying” doesn’t go far enough, and any detailed description I could provide from the remnants that linger would simply upset me, so let’s not do that. Β I found help, within my dream, from our friend’s huge white dog that I met just yesterday – unexpected to have him turn up in my dreams, but I woke this morning smiling at the recollection, with my hand dangling off the side of the bed thinking “who’s a good boy?” and wanting to pet the unseen presence that was not in any way actually there (or actually visible – it was just a moment of dream lingering as I woke). Β I woke from my nightmare with no residual terror or stress, aware of where I was, and feeling safe. This is something new. He’s a sweet, but quite colossal, white dog that I find just a bit scary, myself, in spite of his genuine niceness – he’s just that big, and I just have baggage. It doesn’t surprise me, as an afterthought, that my sleeping consciousness found him to be a suitable dream warrior to call upon for help. πŸ™‚

…So… The morning and the day start well, in spite of pain, in spite of nightmares, in spite of sleeping so restlessly. I am eager to face the day ahead, planning to give myself a manicure, do some housekeeping and laundry, and maybe spend some time in the studio, or in the garden. It’s a first-rate day to put my nightmares behind me promptly, and begin again. πŸ™‚

 

Yesterday quickly descended into further emotional distance, and definite anhedonia. I found myself asking “the” question, too: “Am I depressed?” It had crept over me fairly slowly, then finished with a slam – the house I was going to go see, out in the countryside, went pending right about when I got in to the office. I was bummed.

There are sunny mornings.

This particular source of frustration comes up pretty regularly, and house-hunting is becoming a big downer, mostly because frustration is my kryptonite, and also because the process itself brings me into regular contact with an industry built on corruption, with little in the way of healthy pro-consumer regulation. (Seriously, I’d be pretty appalled to walk into, say, Ross and pick out a pair of jeans, carry those to the register, and have some other customer take them out of my hand, step in front of me in line, and firmly tell the cashier “I’m willing to pay more than you are charging for these, so they’re mine.” That’s hard to deal with over and over again.) I just want to go home. No, I mean, seriously, for me the entire process of house-hunting is 100% only intended to let me “go home” – to a home that is mine, that I can count on, that I can make my own and improve or change, and make more secure and comfy and safe. Having to throw regular exposure to frustration into my day-to-day experience by choice (particularly over something so heartfelt) is … yeah. Hard. Icky. Discouraging.

There are mornings that seem strangely gray.

I reached out to my Traveling Partner and let him know my weekend was upended and as a result quite unplanned. I was mostly venting, and not reaching out to change his plans. He understood – and we miss each other regardless of our plans. He suggested coming to hang out, if that sounded good to me. I was still struggling with anhedonia; nothing sounded good at all. Β He helpfully prompted me to consider my experience through another perspective; my physical health. Recognizing my pain management challenges, my poor quality sleep, and the basic frustration of Β house-hunting and how that affects my mood, generally, put me in a better place for the day, and I even found my to making new plans that really suited where my heart is, combining some hang out time with scouting other areas for livability, that might be good choices for future house-hunting.

Each moment, however similar seeming in some detail or another is entirely its own experience.

I committed to sleeping in today, and I did – I woke at 6:30 am feeling fairly rested. A leisurely shower felt delightful. My coffee is hot, and I feel fairly chill and merry this morning. Sleep is a very big deal.

Yesterday’s sunshine has given way to today’s steady drizzle. Fuck I hate driving in the rain. LOL Still… lovely day to enjoy a drive in the countryside, in no hurry to get to the end of the day.

A different morning, a different place, another moment to begin again.

…I guess I’ll begin again. There are verbs involved. πŸ™‚