Archives for posts with tag: love and lovers

I woke gently, ahead of my alarm. I freshenened up and dressed for the day, then watered the lawn as I left. It is a pleasant routine and a lovely morning.

[No AI is used in writing or editing this blog. This is human content for human readers.]

I arrived at the trailhead as a beautiful sunrise began, hues of orange and gold quickly evolving to a delicate pearl pink sky. Beautiful.

Well, hello there brand new day!

I head down the path, enjoying the cool morning. Sometimes the path is clear, and the way ahead free of obstacles. Sometimes the walking is easy and my stride relaxed and comfortable. Some days are harder, others easier, and it took me far too long to learn to spend more time, emotional energy, and attention on the moments of joy and delight, however small or brief, than on the difficult moments. Truly, my difficulties generally find a way to get more than their “fair share” of my attention, no effort required. I savor this gentle delightful morning as I walk. I put attention on it, and keep my awareness firmly on “now”. The morning is a delight and I don’t want to miss any of it.

Vineyards along the trail under a pink sky.

I spent much of yesterday evening in my studio, sorting through recent images (and their associated recollections), finding the specific (best?) pictures that captured some detail I knew I wanted to paint. Another significant portion of the evening was spent in my Traveling Partner’s good company, as he showed me his drone and walked me through the features. He gifted me his previous drone, and talked me through basic operation. I even took my first flight! Oh, I’m slow about such things, and we were in the house, so really all I did was start her up,  take flight, and hover awhile, carefully feeling the experience of controlling her in the air. All the while, my Traveling Partner watched me thoughtfully.

… Loving someone with brain damage creates some challenges…

I woke this morning to a loving note from my partner. He’d carefully shopped for a better choice of “beginner drone” for me with features better suited to my limitations (and less likely to potentially injure me under predictable relatively common things that can (do) go awry for beginners). He made some recommendations, and I find myself genuinely excited about it. No particular reason to “go down this path”, beyond the fun of it, and the joy of a shared experience – but there is all of that, and I’m eager.

I grin to myself, feeling very loved this morning. I remind myself to study and take the TRUST test, so I can legally fly my drone.

Each dawn begins a new day. I say it a lot. This morning I’m really feeling the joy in it. There’s another busy work day ahead, but that will happen when the time comes. It needs no attention from me now. I sit contentedly with my thoughts.

There are hard times and good times, and it is pretty easy to miss out on the good times if I allow the hard times and moments of stress to dominate my thoughts beyond the boundaries of those moments. I breathe, exhale, and relax, feeling the pleasant summer morning infuse my consciousness with delight. The oaks stand watch alongside the trail as they always do, and I wonder (again) what their awareness might be like, and whether they have consciousness as I do? It’s not a question I can answer… but I do wonder.

…I think about coffee…

We make a lot of our challenges in life harder than they need to be. Just saying, that’s a very human thing – but we can choose differently. There are verbs involved. Decisions. Will. Action. (Practice.) I smile and watch a bunny on the opposite side of the trail from where I’m sitting. She has slowly come closer, nibbling tasty grasses and watching me for any sign of threatening movement. I sit quite still until she hops away back into the grass. We can choose how we treat those around us. I sit reflecting on how easy such choices seem in the abstract, and how difficult they can feel in the moment.

The clock ticks on. I’m grateful for the lovely gentle morning. I silently wish my beloved well, from the side of the trail, hoping his night was as good as mine, his sleep as restful, and his morning as full of effortless joy. Maybe it will be? Maybe it won’t be. Either way, I hope he knows he is loved. I look at the time. It’s already time to begin again.

My morning is off to a weird start. I woke to my alarm – rare, I’m usually up earlier. I had forgotten to lay out clothes for today, so had to pick something before I was quite awake (the result being that my earrings don’t seem right to me for the outfit I’m wearing). I left the house feeling rushed, but it had been raining through the wee hours and watering the lawn this morning was unnecessary, so my timing wasn’t off by more than minutes. Perspective and subjective lived experience continue to collide.

Rain clouds wrap the distant hills.

[No AI is used in writing or editing this blog. This is human content for human readers.]

I woke with a poignant love song in my head. It’s the sort of song that can haunt my thoughts for days. It carries so much more meaning and heartfelt understanding of love than some trash pop song. I walk hearing the refrain in my head, grateful to love and be loved.

There’s a strong breeze blowing. Feels like it’ll probably rain more. My bones ache everywhere that arthritis has settled in, and fuck you if you’re perceiving that complaint as a sign of aging. 😆 My arthritis developed in my spine before I ever saw my 30th birthday. It’s been more than thirty years of this shit. (It has worsened and spread with age, over the years though, that’s real.) I could definitely do without being able to predict a rainy day from the way my bones feel, in favor of less pain. Weather forecasting is not a worthy trade off, and not usefully accurate.

I walk on down the soggy path after standing a few minutes at my halfway point. Everything is soaked. No dry place to sit. I walk a bit. Stop. Write a few words. Walk on. It is a different perspective on a Spring morning. It is quite chilly, too. I’m grateful for the warmth of my birthday sweater. A good choice for a chilly rainy morning. I keep walking.

The rain starts and stops, as if uncertain what the day holds, like the pattern of my steps. I don’t know what the day holds either. 😆 Bits of blue sky show through the clouds here and there, and the breeze through the tops of the oaks sounds like ocean waves. The tree tops seem to wave good morning as I pass. For these mature giants to toss about in this effortless seeming fashion, though, implies a real world hazard – branches may break unexpectedly and fall. It happens enough to feel like an ordinary risk, there are downed branches on the trail here and there, but it would be pretty serious if one fell on me.

I happen upon a partially sheltered rock dry enough to sit on and stop for a few minutes. I still feel as if my timing for the day is off somehow. It isn’t, at all. Clear awareness that the feeling and the reality are not aligned makes my anxiety flare up briefly – until I remember how very subjective an individual experience of life and “reality” actually can be (and often are). It’s a nothing moment and my anxiety recedes, slinking away into the background as if ashamed of the half-assed effort.

I breathe, exhale, and relax. I take a few minutes for meditation, and to finish up my writing. I break out in a sneezing fit, because of course I do – can’t have a proper Spring morning without allergies, eh? I’m laughing at myself, because I really expected the rain to rinse all the pollen from the air. That’s what comes of holding on to expectations. I’m glad I stuffed a pack of tissues in my pocket. My last one – I pause to add them to my shopping list for my next trip to the store.

I get to my feet to finish this walk and get on with the day. It’s already time to begin again.

I woke with a song in my head this morning. “Golden Years“, David Bowie…from sometime in the 70’s I think?  1976. An interesting year. His album Station to Station was one of the very first albums I ever owned. No idea why that was the song in my head as I woke… The song still lingering in my ears and my heart as I retired for the evening last night was very different, “End With You“, Benjamin Tod. Both are love songs, and certainly I’m feeling very loved this morning (as I did last night).

[No AI is used in writing or editing this blog. This is human content for human readers.]

The waning full moon setting at dawn.

Another new day begins. I get up, dress, and water the lawn before I head to the trail for my walk. All very ordinary for the life I live now. My “golden years”? Yeah, maybe; I’m as close to living “happily ever after” as I’m likely to get, and it feels good to feel safe and to feel loved. Neither life nor love are “perfect” (whatever the hell that even is), but they’re pretty g’damned good, generally.

I sit with that thought at the side of this local trail as the sun rises, illuminating the stand of oaks that line this part of the path. The moon is a lovely pale pearl against the delicate pastel blue of the morning sky. Pretty. I smile to myself, thinking about a book and two new sweaters – early birthday presents from my beloved Traveling Partner who decided to give me multiple little gifts this year in the days leading up to my birthday, instead of all at once. I grin and swing my feet from my seat on this bench. I’m eager to wear the sweaters (they’re cute and cozy and suit my sense of style), and to read the book (it’s one I’ve been wanting to read). Today will be too warm for sweaters and there will be little time for reading, but these are temporary conditions and do nothing to dim my enthusiasm or change this feeling of being loved.

The sun lights the vineyard, and the clock keeps ticking. I remind myself to enjoy the time I have, “while I’m standing in it” – it’s the only time I’ve got! Now. The rest is either anticipation or memory. I breathe, exhale, and relax, and enjoy this moment.

… The work day will begin soon enough…

I smile like a kid and wonder what my next birthday present might be and what kind of birthday cake I might be enjoying when the day comes? My Traveling Partner knows so well how to delight me. I suddenly miss him with a ferocity that surprises me. He’s not gone, he’s at home, still asleep, and has yet to start his day. 😆 I’m as in love with him as I was the first time I felt his strong arms around me or the tenderness of his touch. I’m fortunate to know a love like this.

… What delights you? What little moments of good fortune put a smile on your face? I hope you make a point of enjoying every fleeting beautiful moment of joy that life brings your way!

I laugh when the song in my heart shifts gears unexpectedly. “Happy Together“… the Turtles? Weezer? Doesn’t matter, it’s the sentiment that matters. The joy. I’ve definitely got a few minutes for joy. Then it’ll be time to begin again. Hopefully I can pack my joy like a lunch and take it with me to enjoy all day.

Yesterday’s anniversary celebration was delightful, really memorable and lovely. It was the kind of night out that lingers in memory, lasting beyond the moment. I’m glad to be traveling life’s path with my Traveling Partner.

[No AI is used in writing or editing this blog. This is human content for human readers.]

A new day dawns. Where does this path lead?

I went to bed later than usual, well-fed and still a little tipsy. I woke early-ish, rather abruptly. My beloved was already up. I dressed and headed for a hike along the seasonal marsh trail, now open for the Spring and summer. Somewhere along the drive up the highway I began to wake up more completely. I stopped for coffee along the way. I definitely need a cup of coffee this morning. 😆

… What an experience last night was! Remarkable…

I walk alongside the marsh ponds still thinking about last night… the wines, each so beautifully paired with the course they arrived with… the shrimp toast!.. the rabbit… the salmon!.. desserts… that chocolate cake, wow. The evening, and the meal, made its way into my top three most memorable meals of a lifetime, before the check ever arrived. I walk thinking about food, love, and Springtime. It’s rare that we splurge on such an evening, and the rarety made it even more splendid. I savored every bite. I’m grateful to my Traveling Partner for setting it up. His company for the meal was the best part.

I get to my halfway point, and take a seat on this favorite fence rail. The sky looks stormy and I have lost my enthusiasm for driving a great distance to a preferred retailer for peppercorns (and nothing else!). I’m enjoying the morning, but like a walk down any trail, I’m alert for tripping hazards after stepping into a pothole I didn’t see ahead of me. It’s a metaphor. Life’s journey isn’t reliably “well paved”, and surely it can’t be expected to be on “easy mode” for the entire game, eh? I sigh and swing my feet. A small brown bird darts away to a more comfortable distance and looks me over.

… We’re each having our own experience…

I breathe, exhale, and relax. It’s a beautiful Spring day full of promise. The path ahead no doubt still has potholes, and occasional obstacles to avoid. Detours. Bad weather. Wrong turns. The journey is the destination. I resolve (again) to enjoy all I can – and to learn from what I can’t enjoy. That’s enough.

I decide to sit a little while longer. I’ll enjoy taking the long loop back, around the meadow and down along the river. Good day for it. Good day to begin again.

Today is my anniversary with my Traveling Partner; 16 years together, a bit more, and 15 married. As long-term relationships go, it’s not exactly “a lifetime” – I’ve had to try a few times to “get it right”. This anniversary is a major milestone for a minor reason; it is my longest long-term relationship.

[No AI is used in writing or editing this blog. This is human content for human readers.]

My next longest long-term relationships (14 years together, never actually married, and another that was 14 years married, but only 10 of those together) were problematic extensions of traumatizing models of “family life” I’d dearly like to erase from memory, but for the fact that my path through the chaos and damage eventually brought me here. I wouldn’t change a moment if it might mean missing out on the love I’ve found with my Traveling Partner.

“Communion” 2010

So here I am, walking as the sun rises, smiling and hearing love songs in my head. We have dinner plans tonight, and I’m excited about that. I haven’t gotten him a gift. I don’t know how to give a gift worthy of a love like this one on the limited budget I would have. Dinner together at the best restaurant in the area seems fitting. (His idea, which tickles me so much.)

“Contemplation” 12″ x 16″ acrylic and iron oxide. August 2011

Is love “enough”? I walk and think about that question and find myself answering “enough for what?” before shrugging off the question as irrelevant to my lived experience of love and loving. Love is love. Questions of sufficiency seem to lead down a path of price tags and comparisons and cost/benefit analysis, and that seems foolish. Love doesn’t have to be “enough” to fulfill some other purpose, it is enough to experience love, ever. I get to my halfway point, still smiling and feeling lighthearted. It’s a beautiful morning, and I am fortunate to be in love.

“Cherry Blossoms” 2011

I breathe, exhale, and relax. Meditation is difficult this morning. I fidget like a child in church, restless, excited. My mind wanders (don’t forget to pick up your Rx, don’t forget your manicure appointment, don’t forget to double-check the grocery list and stop by the store…). S’ok. It’s a very human experience. Most people don’t notice my brain damage; little glitches in the background, unusual difficulties with communication, oddball “quirks” that are actually coping mechanisms for getting around “thinking holes” and shit that just doesn’t work the way it should. I’m used to it, mostly. I’ve improved a lot over the years (so much). My Traveling Partner sees more of it than most people – and manages to be kind, loving, and generally very supportive, without succumbing to the potential temptation to exploit me to his advantage. (Not true in previous relationships, one of which apparently had exploitation as it’s specific purpose.) I feel safe and loved, which is pretty wonderful for this busted up weird human primate doing her best to figure life out, I must say. 😆

A token of affection. Love on a chain. The only heart-shaped locket I have ever owned.

I sigh contentedly, even happily. It’s a beautiful morning and I feel loved. I watch the sun light the vineyards along this trail. Such a beautiful moment. I sit here awhile longer. I have some errands to run before I return home to my beloved. I feel fortunate and merry, and supremely pleased to have taken the day off (and grateful to have had that option). Love makes it a beautiful day to be alive.

I smile and breathe the sweetly fragrant Spring breeze. I let the clock tick on (how could I even stop it?), soon enough it will be time to begin again.