Archives for posts with tag: love and lovers

Let me share an interesting story of coincidence, love, and – just maybe – one of life’s mysterious details. It begins (and, mostly, ends) with an ear worm on a long drive. I was driving home from my camping trip, with a snippet of music stuck in my head. It was familiar and unfamiliar at the same time… like a piece of music I’d surely heard at some point, but can’t say I’m particularly familiar with, don’t listen to really at all, hadn’t heard recently anywhere… nonetheless, I kept humming it, kept trying to “figure it out” with da-da-dah’s, and dum-dee-dums… could not place it, at all. Kept humming it, kept trying to sing it, kept driving…

I finally arrived home, and soon after I made a point of mentioning the song stuck in my head to my Traveling Partner, and how mysterious it was to have this unfamiliar (and, I suspected, possibly “classical”) music stuck in my head (still). He rather matter-of-factly asked me to sing it for him – a request that in many years past I would have been purely unable to accommodate for anyone, and would have frozen me completely with dread and anxiety (I promise you, I’m no singer). Still, with love and trust in my heart, I went for it… carefully trying to capture the phrasing of the tune, and hopefully not be too terribly off key… it began quite slowly with a soft prolonged note… then a cascade of notes with a very distinctive cadence. It was what I could recall, and as I’d been singing it to myself for literal hours, that bit was pretty firmly fixed in my recollection. I was inclined to simply repeat it many times, though I felt certain there was “more to it than that…”, and said so. My partner had a most peculiar look on his face, and muttered something about how unlikely…

…He turned to his keyboard, and pulled up a piece of music… “That’s it!” I exclaimed. “Is this it?” he asked almost at the same time. He told me he’d been listening to it that very day… and we compared the time and timing… I was “listening to it” at the same time he’d been listening to it… though he’d never shared it with me, or said anything about it. Classical music isn’t really “my thing” generally… Bolero. Huh. Now when I hear it (and I’ve listened to several versions since that day), I entirely associate it with him, with us, and with this love we share. How strange is love? How strange is this odd coincidence?

I’ll say now that I tend to be a rather practically minded woman, day-to-day, largely because without the secure “guardrails” of rational thought, I could easily stray into the surreal, the unfounded, the ridiculous, and even the conspiratorial…but… I don’t know everything. None of us know “everything”. There’s a lot out there yet to be known, by anyone at all. There are mysteries still unsolved, unexplained. I put pretty much everything “ESP” or “psychically” connected into that category. No proof, really, so… I just don’t know. I refuse to stake a claim to knowledge or adopt an attitude of certainty. I recognize a coincidence when I experience one. I’m familiar with the bizarre and unusual. Like I said, there’s much I don’t know. I’m okay with uncertainty and with not knowing.

…I do know that I now love the music of Bolero, and this human being who listened to it on the day it was stuck in my head, when we were separated by distance and connected by love…

Does it need to be anything more than what it is? Does it need an explanation at all? I don’t think so. It’s enough just as it is. Mysterious and fond. Like love. 🙂

My camping trip was thought-filled and peculiarly restful (of mind). Today, I’ll unpack the car and make sure camping clothes are laundered and gear is neatly packed for winter storage (I don’t do much cold-weather camping). These are the sorts of verb-laden basic tasks that are so easy to shrug off, but doing them – in spite of the effort required – makes so much difference when Spring returns!

Reflections as Summer shifts to Autumn, shades of green mingled with hints of rust and gold.

The more commonplace routine order of things resumes tomorrow. Monday. Funny… there’s no dread. No agita. No regret. No anxiety. Just… time to get to work. I mull that over, sipping my coffee. It feels good to find joy in work. I mean, work is work, and it’s doable without the joy, but… a lot less enjoyable. It’s proven to be worthwhile to work where I’m valued, to work where I enjoy the people working alongside me, to do work that uses my skills and that has at least some value in the world. It has become an element of good self-care (for me) to choose the work I do with some care. The first step on that path, it turned out, was learning to make it a choice.

…So… Autumn is here again at long last. How delightful! (Admittedly, I find things to love about all the seasons, but Autumn is probably my favorite.) Leaves are already changing. The weather is already cooling off. The rains are returning. I am reminded that I need to get into the garden… there’s work to be done there. Tomatoes to harvest. Cucumbers, too. Over-wintering greens to get into the ground. The question of whether to cover a portion of the garden with clear plastic or a cold-frame crosses my mind again. It remains, so far, unanswered. Some questions are like that.

I sip my coffee making a mental list… unpack the car, laundry, clean the camp fridge, maybe run some gear over to storage… oh, the gardening! I laugh at myself; mental lists (for me) go nowhere. I need to write things down. No shame in that; knowing my limitations and working around those comfortably is a useful skill. 😀

My Traveling Partner got a lot done while I was away. I came home to an upgraded OS on my tower and a tidy house. Not just that, he got to work with a neighbor and finished rocking in the narrow side yard on the side with the AC unit; it’s been a mess of weeds and hard to keep tidy, and too narrow a space to make much of. This will be more efficient and beautiful, with lower maintenance requirements. I can put more of my limited energy into the front garden. 😀

Where does this path lead?

It feels like a good day to celebrate small wins, and to feel wrapped in love. It’s a good day to be of service to hearth and home. It’s a good day to love and to make merry. It’s a good day to begin again.

Sometimes I still feel like I’m fighting uphill. Arguing with shadows. Spinning my wheels. Sometimes shit just feels too hard. Even (especially?) the stuff I think “should be” easy.

Fuck I am frustrated and tired. My head hurts. I just wanted…

… doesn’t matter, it didn’t go down like that. There’ll be other times, other moments, other chances. I just wasn’t expecting things to be so damned difficult in this particular instance.

I know, I know, there are practices to practice and I can begin again. Fighting back pointless stupid tears.

… Sometimes I just miss things that were once so easy…

Stay on the path. Your results will vary.

No title. No particular theme. I’m sipping a glass of water on a warmish summer-y evening in September. I spent most of the afternoon with my Traveling Partner, putting away some of the camping gear, pulling out other stuff, and getting my gear sorted for my camping trip next weekend. It was fun and time well-spent, together. I’m tired, now. My mind is sort of just floating through my thoughts, meandering among ideas and recollections, without any focus. I feel light-hearted, relaxed, and easy. It’s a pleasant moment. I am not quite waiting, in this moment betwixt other moments, while my Traveling Partner showers. Our plan, presently, sort of, is to go enjoy “breakfast for dinner” at a local chain breakfast place. Is that weird? I don’t know. I don’t care if it is. It’s something I enjoy.

…We may not even go, it’s that sort of very flexible afternoon, heading into evening. Could be that by the time showers are had, and clothes are changed, we’ll rather stay in and figure out something else. (I mean, I could do all the work to make breakfast for dinner at home, but doing that much work… nah. I don’t feel like doing that.)

…If we do go out, I should put on a different shirt… my worn(out) Wonder Woman tank top is not quite threadbare, but definitely lacking any newness whatever, and it’s pretty shabby. “Home clothes” for lounging and lazing, fine, but going out to dinner – even to enjoy breakfast foods – I would rather put on something a bit more “presentable”. I hear my partner step out of the shower. It’s time to begin again. 😀

We returned home from our camping trip yesterday afternoon. It was a relaxed trip, and a really beautiful drive, and we still felt the joyful vibe of our getaway as we got closer to home, in spite of the unexpectedly abrupt “return to reality” that resulted from city traffic on a Sunday, distracted drivers, and pointless rudeness from strangers utterly pre-occupied with themselves as they hurtled down the highway in their vehicles. I think we both could have done without any of that, but… it would have taken so much more to wreck our wonderful getaway.

The titular “small joys” were just literally everywhere as we spent the days of my “birthday vacation” together. Funny, we spend most days together, and very little time apart (since the start of the pandemic, and ongoing), but these were definitely special. So special. I feel loved. I feel supported. I hope my Traveling Partner does, too. We worked together as a team on our camping adventures, and that experience grew and deepened each day, and each time we packed up our gear, or set up or tore down our camp. Room to grow? For sure. Still – it was amazing time well-spent in the company of the human being most dear to me. Hard to beat that.

One small joy; the serendipitous utterly unplanned and unintentional image of a heart on my toast in the morning. 😀

It’s been fun. Remarkable. Memorable. Filled with love and laughter. We walked together. Laughed together. Cooked together. We spent our time together. Not just “in the same room” together – we really shared the time and the experience in a wholesome engaged way. I even felt we were “hearing each other” more easily, listening more deeply with greater ease, and sharing more openness. It was luscious and loving and just frankly wonderful. It was the two of us. I returned home feeling more secure about “us”, and more whole and comfortable in my own skin. Wonderful.

…I managed to avoid being eaten alive by bugs, and until the very last day, didn’t seem to have even one insect bite. At all. Now? Well… I’ve got some kind of irritation on the back of one hand that itches like fire (looks like a tiny spider bite, perhaps). I try not to scratch it, mostly unsuccessfully. I find great delight in refrigerated Benadryl cream. lol

Now? Well, today is my actual 60th birthday. As is so common, I just don’t feel any differently in any noteworthy way than I did yesterday. Well… except one thing; I feel re-engaged and energized to deal with my health and fitness. It’s not too late. (When is it ever, truly, so long as I can still breathe?) I guess that’s a thing, and I hope to get some value out of that feeling.

I’m enjoying my birthday. Breakfast out after days of wilderness adventure. Cake and ice cream. Cartoons and music. The company (and romantic affection) of my Traveling Partner. What a lovely birthday. It’s not over yet, either… I think I’ll begin again. 😀