Archives for posts with tag: love and lovers

I love fairy tales, and stories with a strong heroine, who faces a challenge, learns a lesson, and grows to become someone wonderful. I like a happy ending. I read a lot of ‘happily ever after’ endings over the years, and at some point ‘happily ever after’ became an implicit goal. That’s especially maddening because that is basically the least attainable goal ever imagined. I enjoy feeling happy. I find ‘joy’, ‘delight’, and all manner of pleasant happiness-related, happiness-producing quite wonderful and worth experiencing. I didn’t have much success making the whole point of existence getting to some difficult to define ‘happily ever after’ place. Quite the contrary, I think making ‘happily ever after’ something to chase resulted in a lot of personal unhappiness.

I don’t actually understand why happiness seems so much more common now that I’m not chasing it…but it does tend to be the experience I am having.

Unfolding like spring flowers.

The loveliness of simply being.

I am okay right now. It wasn’t my best evening. I enjoyed the day in relative physical comfort. By the time I arrived home, after a chilly drizzly commute, I was in pain and irritable. If I could fold time, I would put this moment, here, adjacent to my arrival, and perhaps enjoy myself and my family more, being in a better mood, and less pain. I’m not complaining, and I don’t recall being unpleasant, just in pain and perhaps too tired to be more considerate with my phrasing; I know it takes a lot to hurt my traveling partner’s feelings, and I know I succeeded. I will make amends in the morning, learn from the experience and move on. It’s okay to treat myself with great care, even though I feel badly about the evening going a bit sideways, and I have spent the evening gently, managing my pain, watching South Park, and writing. It was my intention to do these things when I arrived home hurting so much, and it’s pretty satisfying to find that good self-care has indeed helped a lot, although I am still in too much pain to be able to sleep just yet; yoga will help with that a lot, and meditation afterward is a nice way to finish the day.

Every time something works out just a bit better, I take time to really appreciate it, notice it, and hold onto the experience for some minutes. I ‘let it soak in’. I make a point of continuing those practices, and even investing more time in those that are regularly part of some new moment of personal success. In the most difficult moments, I am sometimes very briefly so bitter and hurt that I am unsure these things really matter, or that I am actually making progress day-to-day. The doubts are incredibly painful, and I am very relieved each time I get past that moment, to this place when ‘I am okay right now’, and able to enjoy the moment of progress, or resilience, or emotional safety – successes, all.

Stormy sky, quiet evening.

Stormy sky, quiet evening.

I feel more vulnerable sharing successes, than I do ‘failures’, or learning experiences. Vulnerable is okay, too. It’s a nice evening.

This morning I woke with anxiety riding shotgun. I woke early, and abruptly, feeling unable to take a breath. In the face of imminent panic, I managed to grab hold of the nearest practice – in this case, simply breathing – and focused on that, instead of the anxiety.

“Anxiety” 10″ x 14″ acrylic on canvas w/ceramic 2011

“Anxiety” 10″ x 14″ acrylic on canvas w/ceramic 2011

With the first deep breath, in and then slowly out, I observed the quiet environment, and the lack of immediate threats to my safety or wellness.

With the second, I observed my own body and state of being, finding and gently letting go of tension, then self-soothing by improving my posture, and comforting myself with reminders to be present, now, and letting the safety and comfort of the moment soak into my awareness more fully.

With the third breath I acknowledged Anxiety traveling with me this morning, and instead of panic, I gave myself a mental pat on the back for dealing with her – and my PTSD – so well these past couple days.  I took a moment to refresh my understanding that my TBI sometimes prevents my chemistry from appropriately returning to baseline because the inhibition/disinhibition circuitry – and other executive functions – are impaired; this too will pass, but it may take longer than I’d like, and I’ll probably have to help it along.

By the time I complete 5 deep cleansing breaths, my heart stopped pounding, and the surreal terror eased. Was it something in my dreams that woke me so badly? It hardly matters. I am okay, and a new day is beginning. I anticipate the anxiety may come and go today, as it eases over hours without new stimuli. I smile realizing that it feels almost natural… almost easy… to take care of me in the face of my anxiety. It is quite deliberate, very structured, almost ritualistic, extremely practiced, and in no way ‘natural’ or ‘easy’ – but it is lovely that it feels that it easy, and that’s more than enough to bring a smile to my face, this morning as I sit with my coffee, quite alone, and recognizing anxiety as merely an emotion, rather than envisioning it as some powerful super-being capable of destroying worlds.

The tools and practices I have invested so much time and study in really do make a difference. Using SuperBetter regularly helps me stay focused on practicing good self-care practices, and reminds me of all the variety there is in self-care tools and skills, and in creative ways to break problem patterns of thinking and behavior. Directing entertainment consumption towards the educational (TED Talks, SciShow…) has proven helpful, too; the brain is a sort of ‘use it or lose it’ tool, itself, and the sharpest elders I know are people who continue learning well into their elder years as a lifelong passion.

…And then there’s love.  I don’t want to overlook or underestimate the value of supportive relationships, emotional nurturing by loved ones, the comfort in someone listening, or the emotional safety in being accepted and loved – exactly as I am.  Being loved is a bit like buried pirate treasure, though; even though I suspected it might be ‘out there’, and even with a map that had a spot marked ‘X’ to point the way, it took some searching and some persistence, mostly because I did not understand that the love I most yearned for above all others needed to come from me, and until I found my way to that safe haven, no searching would ever turn up the pirate treasure of romantic love in the arms of another (because, even if someone loved me that much, in that way, I would struggle to recognize and feel it, having no similar feeling about myself).

It’s a lovely morning, and a good day to tell anxiety to take a hike – I will choose, instead, to walk with love, deliberately and willfully. Today is a good day to practice good practices, and to take care of me. Today is a good day to enjoy what works, and improve on what doesn’t work so well. Today is a good day to change the way I deal with my world.

 

It’s the end of the day, and the household is still and quiet. The click of the keys, the distant hums, and hushed background noises are hardly interrupted by the trickle of the aquarium filter. Even in the stillness, I am reminded that some aquatic gardening is a tad overdue. It’s a long weekend, and there will be time to take care of it before the new work week begins. I feel…content.

Contentment has become just about my favorite emotion. Oh, sure, there’s Love…love…passion…romance, and yes those are all high on my list of favorite emotions. Happiness, too, sure. Joy. Delight. Those are all excellent emotions to savor in any moment. Memories of those emotions are wonderful to recall, and re-imagine in great detail. Contentment, though, has this saturating, drenching, wholly fulfilling sense of completeness and comfort that just can’t be beat. Contentment doesn’t ask for more. Contentment doesn’t feel short-changed, disadvantaged, or cheated. Contentment doesn’t know resentment, jealousy, or envy. The best part? Contentment is easy.

Here it is, night. The house is quiet, possibly sleeping, but no matter; I am content in the stillness of this lovely moment, after a delightful day of love…contented love, good-natured love, committed love, soulful love… and it’s not anything to do with Valentine’s Day. Love isn’t a holiday on a calendar to be celebrated as a token moment…It’s more of a lifestyle.

Love was once challenging for me to recognize, to find, or to hold on to…I needed to make quite a few love-related lifestyle changes, some of them even the same basic fundamentals of good health and self-care as diet and exercise; how do we love well, if we don’t begin with ourselves? At least, it has seemed to work out that way for me…your results may vary. I still work at love. I expect that even a committed lifetime of the study of love and loving doesn’t halt the need to practice good practices: kindness, compassion, listening with awareness, laughing together, being present, being considerate, sharing experiences, tenderness…all of it matters. Every compliment, every criticism, every moment to connect or to disconnect is relevant to the state of love. How we treat ourselves, how we treat each other, are what love is built on.

If practice makes perfect…what are you perfecting?

Love was good to me today. It’s definitely enough, and I am content.

One quiet moment, thinking about love.

One quiet moment, thinking about love.

The family arrived home yesterday much earlier than I expected. It was a happy homecoming of tired travelers, making the pot roast dinner in the slower cooker a welcome touch for later. It was a relaxed afternoon, and a pleasant end to the weekend.

Late in the evening I felt a touch restless, and my pain was aggravating me; I went for an evening walk. It was well-timed…for a duck, or a goose, perhaps, or some other sort of waterfowl; I got as far from the house as I intended to go, and the skies opened and it just poured down rain. I returned home utterly soaked – and laughing. It didn’t do my arthritis a bit of good, but I felt revived and refreshed, and delighted – like a child – with the sensations of it.

I crashed fairly early, slept fairly poorly, and woke in pain this morning. Somehow, I am still merry and content. Love is amazing stuff. My coffee is delicious, and as a treat I bought some almond milk creamer for my morning coffee, making this Monday morning seem just a little unusual. I’m still groggy and waking is coming slowly. I woke quite easily at 11:11 pm, after crashing early. I woke again, quite easily, at 2:52 am. Pain? Some other member of the household moving about in the night? There was no anxiety or distress, no need to fight off some stray attack by my own brain; it was simply night, and something woke me. In both cases, I returned to sleep with relative ease using meditation and breathing. As I opened my eyes in response to the aquarium light coming on with a quiet ‘click’, the alarm started to beep. I shut it off. I’m still trying to wake up completely.

What a lovely weekend. I enjoyed me. I enjoyed life. I enjoyed fellowship. I enjoyed love. I also enjoyed pot roast; my best one so far, I think.

It could be that I’m figuring out some of the changes with sex, love, sensuous connection, and intimacy that have come with menopause… I don’t actually know. I know the weekend felt natural and lovely, and that from a physical perspective it also felt nurturing, satisfying, and complete. This morning, that’s very much ‘enough’, and I don’t find myself making emotional demands on love’s future performance-to-goal; neither love nor Love take kindly to direct supervision, and are unlikely to accede to mortal demands. It’s pretty pointless to make a To Do List for Love and start insisting on things. (Inventing systems of thought and rules for loving hasn’t done much to improve humankind’s ability to love, or success with finding and keeping it, just saying.)

A few words on a pleasant Monday. I’m glad love has returned home. Today is a very good day for love.

Mmmm...Love, love, and loving.

Mmmm…Love, love, and loving.