Archives for posts with tag: I am my own cartographer

Mt McLoughlin, Oregon

I am sitting quietly, looking over the most recent pictures from the most recent trip of the most recent weekend. I’m feeling a bit “homesick”, though my home isn’t yet there, and the future is an unknown. I love the sight of the mountain.

Better than television.

I spend time considering whether I will be fit enough for the hike to the summit this year. It’s a hike I think I’d like to take. It seems the sort of thing for terrifically early in the morning on a long long summer day. My thoughts wander with the pictures.

From just a couple weeks ago.

I hurt a great deal tonight, but I’ve got another doctor’s appointment coming up. Fuck middle age. Fuck aging. Fuck pain. lol I guess I’m fortunate to get to find out how fucked aging is, though. The current alternatives are seriously limited. It’s just harder to enjoy my experience filtered through pain; pain narrows my focus, and shrinks my world. Through discomfort I find myself losing perspective. I’m not mad about it, and I’m not giving myself any shit over it, just aware that I hurt enough to be more focused on that, than not, and likely to be cross or short with people, and maybe a little stupid here or there, just being distracted by pain.

I know the drill. I sigh as I sort it out in my head. Some yoga. Physical therapy. Strength training. A big drink of water. A leisurely hot shower. It’s not a cure for pain, but I’ll feel better – and in treating myself well, taking care of me the best I am able to, and feeling even a bit better, I’ll regain some perspective, and enjoy this experience more.

…I’ll probably still be homesick for the mountain. lol 🙂

It is evening. I’m tired. I hurt. I’m cross. It’s not a bad evening, at all. It is quiet. I’m okay with that. My head aches. I sip my coffee contentedly, after a homecoming punctuated by housekeeping, and unpacking from the weekend. There is laundry to do, I notice. I do dishes. I vacuum. My back aches. I check things off an imagined list I have carried with me for days, with good intentions and little action.

I find a moment of contentment and satisfaction. Enough. I reheat my coffee and sit down with it at last. I take a deep breath, it returns as a sigh. I warm my hands on the hot porcelain mug. Fuck, I hurt. It is too late in the evening to take an Rx pain reliever (they mess with my sleep). I distract myself with literal pictures of kittens – and glass marbles – and trail maps – and the almanac – and finally find myself in a somewhat better mood, generally, which is something, even if I hurt.

Some time later, I find I’ve wandered away from writing… I already no longer recall why. Probably some small task or another let go too long that finally got my attention. lol That’s okay. I’ve got this – one thing at a time, and taking care of the woman in the mirror with kindness and consideration. I look around at what I’ve gotten done this evening – more than I expected to, less than everything that needs doing. lol It’s enough.

It’s not about a point system. There’s no goal post. This is not a competition at all. I am, however, quite tired. Enough that my thoughts trail off and become juxtaposed one with another, surreal, nonsensical, amusing – better than nightmares. I dislike nightmares. I still have nightmares.

I woke during the night after a nightmare. Work bullshit, less frightening than other sorts of things, still it shook me up to wake up from mocking laughter and feel so small and alone in the dark. I got up. I got up and took care of myself. Some meditation. A drink of water. A couple minutes of pleasant conversation with a friend. I didn’t get hung up on the nightmares, and returned to sleep sometime later. This happened a couple times. My sleep was of poor quality. Today, as a result, I am tired. It happens. It’s a real thing, people know about it.

I’ve spent a gentle evening of quiet, and already I have forgotten what it was I was doing… sitting? Standing. Some meditation. What else? It doesn’t matter too much. Yep. I’m tired. One lovely thing about being an adult? I totally do not care at all that it is only 9:56 pm (hell, that’s a decently adult time for bed right there. lol) – I’m tired now, so now I will sleep. That seems just fine, certainly it does no harm.

Tomorrow is soon enough to begin again. Isn’t it generally?

Do you. There is so little time. I’m not saying get wrecked at every chance, running amuck wherever you go, violating boundaries, tearing shit up and bringing drama every damned where – not at all. I am saying live your life. Make this moment yours – and that next one, over there, that one, too.

There’s a trick to living well – and I’m only just aware of it on the periphery, so new it is barely something I can practice, yet, more just a thing I am noticing going on, just out of reach; a rare few among us manage to do the damned thing – this crazy thing called life – in a most rich and wonderful way, without anything unusual for resources, and without trampling over everyone else’s day-dream. Sweet, right? But… how?? How to choose actions and words in the moment to both be most true to myself and my own needs and goals, and also not tread on the boundaries, needs and goals of others?

I practice consideration – a lot. It’s one of my Big 5. (Respect, Consideration, Compassion, Reciprocity, Openness) It’s a huge improvement on the young woman I once was, and the choices she favored. I’ve still got so much to learn, so far to travel…

I sit quietly sipping a hot decaf, enjoying the stillness of evening, listening to a great Electro House Mix, and letting the evening wind down around me. I let my thoughts wander distant trails. I exchange a few words with a friend. I consider this moment, here, so quiet and gentle, and I contrast it with recent parties – the difference in intensity moment-to-moment is remarkable. (See? Here I am remarking on it, in fact.) I have definitely been needing something that these parties have been providing… but…

…All the parties notwithstanding, it is the healing peace of a solitary moment that anchors me in a gentle “now” I can count on for an easy beginning for the next moment after that. I smile, finish my coffee, and bump the thermostat a little for comfort as I head to my meditation cushion. Can’t get this high at a party. lol 🙂

Time to begin again.

 

There’s more to say on such a big topic. A paragraph or two about love and lovers isn’t going to cover the subject thoroughly at all. I won’t try. It’s early in the morning, and I’m headed to work soon. The morning is rainy. The coffee is hot. My mood is merry. Easy stuff on a Tuesday.

The view from my weekend away.

I scroll through my Facebook feed, catching up after a weekend away. I flip through the posts – what’s with all the angst-y relationship drama? (More than enough over the weekend, as well – seasonal?) I don’t laugh – it really isn’t a cause for amusement or celebration when lovers suffer in each others arms, most particularly consider the great care some lovers take in crafting their shared misery. The choices! The effort! The lovingly hand-crafted artisanal misery! It’s amazing to me that even if pointed out such that awareness is unavoidable, a great many people will still “well, she…”, “well, he…”, with real ferocity to return to an acceptable understanding that allows them to rationalize not making any changes at all. It’s weird. It’s as if – wait for it – they are actually choosing to be unhappy together instead of choosing to be actually happy, or at least content and blissful. So strange. It’s hard to watch. It’s always been hard to watch. It makes my acid reflux flare up to have to watch it. It makes me heartsick to have to turn away. (I can’t fix it!) 😦

Love isn’t misery. If you are miserable, I assure you, it isn’t the love causing that. It’s the bullshit. 😉 Drop the bullshit. lol (Sounds so easy in those terms, but yeah – there are still a lot of verbs involved, and you can’t avoid those, or pay for someone else to do them.)

I’ve had cause to be soaked in drama recently. Not so much a choice as a test of endurance, loving kindness, compassion, and the experience and (limited) wisdom that come of age – and that come of fucking up several potentially wonderfully promising relationships myself over the years. Doesn’t make it easier to bear witness to the misery of lovers who refuse to see that they are choosing their misery for themselves, with great care, and putting every ounce of their being into tending and maintaining it. Yikes. I can’t even imagine the power and joy of a relationship into which similar effort and energy are put directly into actually loving each other!

Sharing the love, and sharing the building. Destruction is far less joyful.

…Oh. Wait. Yes, yes I can actually imagine the power and joy of a relationship into which lovers are putting the full weight of their effort and energy directly into actually loving each other! I have that! How wonderful! 😀 I worked – and work – with great care to build (instead of destroying) to support and nurture (instead of criticizing and tearing my partner down) to attend to my own chaos and damage (because we really only have the power to change our own ways, to deal with our own issues, to put down our own baggage), and to learn to love well.

A gray, black, and tan moth is colorful up close. Perspective matters. 🙂

I’m still learning. I practice every day. I make mistakes. I make amends. I screw up. I make it right. Again and again. I learn something new that works. I practice it often. I find out something I do is problematic. I look at ways I could change my approach for a better result. I face the awareness that something my lover does is uncomfortable for me. I learn to bring those issues to the table with kindness, patience, and understanding that I am having my own experience, and “demanding change” is not always the most effective (or efficient) way to achieve the result I want. I learned to assume positive intent, and learned to share my words gently, and to listen deeply. I learned to let go of assumptions and expectations, and to distinguish between acceptance and being a doormat. lol So many life lessons to love well! We have to learn each of them on our own. The verbs pile up.

I may be writing about love for the rest of my life – there is that much to say about it, and I’m no expert. 🙂 Love matters most. Love inspires. Love pulls us. Pushes us. Changes us. Love is powerful stuff. I spent the weekend wrapped in love. Home now to begin a new work week, I’m still thinking about love – and lovers.

There is always time for love. (Make time for it.) What could be a more worthy use of your precious limited mortal life than to love?

Speaking of time… it’s time to begin the work day. 🙂 One new beginning among so many. It’s time to begin again. 🙂