Archives for posts with tag: love and lovers

Okay, so… it isn’t autumn anymore. The weather is still gray and rainy-freezy-misty. Not good for long drives through mountain passes (at least, it’s not my preference). A poor choice for my arthritis as well, though there’s little to be done about that long-term without relocating; I take short-term actions to ease my symptoms, almost as soon as I get up, today.

I begin the holiday with a lovely stack of books to read.

It’s the just the loveliest winter day. I’ve spent it…oh… on me. Relaxing. Meditating. Reading. Doing yoga. Watching the squirrels play. I forced myself out of the house once, when I noticed I’d run out of coffee and didn’t have even enough for a second cup. Of course, the one time I venture out, and silence my ringer while driving, I miss a call from my Traveling Partner. lol I check messages when I get home, see the missed call, and phone him back. It’s always lovely to talk, to hear his voice, even that bit when he gets frustrated with me talking over him is worth the phone call. 🙂 He gets back to his day, there, I get back to mine, here.

Today has been an exceptional day for meditation. It’s a good fit with all the reading, which somehow manages to surprise me. I find myself questioning the surprise; is it just an artifact of an injury that often misleads me about what is or is not new? I let that go and simply enjoy each precious chill moment of this pleasant holiday. I read awhile. Finish a chapter (or a book) and “take a break” by meditating for some unmeasured little while. I pause all that to have a bit of a chat with my partner, listen to some music, practice with the buugeng. At some point, I begin all that again, and return to reading. It’s been just about the perfect day off, in spite of missing my Traveling Partner, and even in spite of being in pain.

3 finished. Feminism, Love, and Dictatorship – a broad variety of topics, with still more enticing reading to come.

I put everything aside for a while. More meditation. Sitting quietly by the fire, taking a moment to simply be, and to be aware, and to really listen. To observe the moment without putting rules on it, or building a narrative around it, or making it any more or less significant than the moment itself provides without effort or guidance. Experiencing “being” as the verb it is, without the complication of all those other verbs, for just some little while. Some time later, the warmth of the room seemed to shift from cozy to stifling, and I got up, adjusted the thermostat, welcomed the twilight, and made my way here, right here, now. This? This is live – well, in the moment I am doing the typing, right now, it is. I’m often not “writing right now” in that way – it’s far more common that I am writing about some recently past moment (although rather rudely, I often do so in the present tense, having become emotionally entangled there in that past event).

So… here we each are, in our present moment. I giggle quietly to myself as I fully take in the meanings when I think to myself “I hope your present is not tense”… “present tense”. It should not be that god damned funny (it isn’t). I’m laughing out loud, and tears squeeze out of my eyes. A moment of subtly hysterical catharsis – no harm was done to this human in the writing of this blog post. 🙂 I smile with considerable kindness “at myself”, and experience a weird moment of recognition and gratitude – when did we actually become friends, the woman in the mirror and I? I don’t think it’s been that long ago… we’ve been mutually supportive for some time (a couple years) but “friends” would have been a stretch. Funny.

I smile to myself and consider how pleasant the evening is, and feel fortunate to enjoy my own company with such ease these days. What a lovely day, well spent, in good company, reading, meditating, listening to music, dancing, practicing buugeng and watching squirrels… I think I’m ready to begin again. 🙂

I left work later than I’d planned, after getting both more and less done than I intended – and needed – to do. I slumped against the hand rail in the elevator as the doors closed around me, alone at long last. Tears didn’t wait. I stoically stepped off the elevator doing a first-rate impression of being dry-eyed and calm.

I messaged my Traveling Partner that I would be heading home. It’s of no direct consequence for him, though, is it? Hardly. I’m here. He’s there. Fuck, why do I do this? I wonder as I buckle in for the commute home. Rain. I start the car – my washer fluid warning tells me I’ve run out. Shit. Really? Today? God damn it. As I pull out, the “time for an oil change” reminder comes on, too. My lips tremble. I’m not up to this. I’m not adult enough. It’s too much…

My phone bing-bongs at me. I haven’t pulled out of the parking lot, and stop, set the break, and check the message. Love and well-wishes for a safe drive from my Traveling Partner. More than that, really, a proper love note, heart-felt, yearning, and reminding me how much I would be missed if I didn’t make it home. Wow…

…I cried most of the way home, the slow enduring weeping of strong emotion that won’t be defeated. Not quite “happy tears”, just… relieved? Reassured? Profoundly moved. I took care with the drive, hearing the reminder still fresh in my thoughts and in my heart. I made it safely home in the usual amount of time, maybe less, and with far less stress – I’m sure there’s something to learn from that.

The box on the stoop reminded me again how loved I am. I sat down on the stoop, in the rain, and just fucking wept. “Too much.” Too much stress in the week, too much emotion in the moment, and it all came pouring out at once, on my front step, on a rainy night. When I became to cold for sentimental moments, too rained on to pretend I wasn’t cold, and my tears had dried, I gathered up my package and went into the house. I messaged my partner, so he’d know I was indeed home safely. His evening had already moved on to other things, and I don’t expect any immediately reply, so I move on to a hot shower, a few more tears, and then make a healthy bite of dinner.

I hurt, but it’s just pain. I’m not on the edge of tearing someone’s head off over nothing, or disintegrating into a sodden tearful wreck. It’s a quiet evening. I have made a lovely home here. I start a fire in the fireplace and take a seat on my meditation cushion, and feel “too much” begin to fall away, leaving behind only enough.

I woke precisely as the alarm went off, meaning to say, I woke and was in that process of becoming awake, and considering returning to sleep, when the alarm went off. I am not able to decide whether that was “convenient” or “annoying”. lol

My morning has continued in this strange fashion, and I find myself caught in a strange limbo between one understanding of circumstances, and another. The difference between one understanding and another? Mostly a matter of choice, and nothing more – a choice between perceptions or understandings, rather than a choice among actions. If I don’t “choose”… do I then not have a perception? That doesn’t seem to be how it works… eventually I settle on some understanding or another.

I put on headphones and grab a mix to listen to that has really grabbed hold of me lately. (Best on headphones if you don’t have speakers with a lot of bass. lol)

Dancing in my seat, thinking about this existence that occurs in the space between that moment when I am certain I earnestly want to retire… and actually being ready/able to do so. lol Oops. Mind that gap! lol Similarly, existing in the space between meeting that singular human being I yearn to be with…like… all the time… and that moment when I understood living full-time with anyone may not work for me at all. Damn it. Mind that gap! No easier existing in the space between being this one person I’ve “always” been (have not)… and being the person I am eagerly becoming. On it goes, right? So much of life is this moment right here, between then, and later on… this “now” moment, that is what it is, and only that. Even the music holds my attention in an in-between-things place, this morning, made up, as it is, of samples of older things mixed in a new way. lol We become, surely, and the journey ahead is paved in the consequences of our earlier choices and actions; this morning I am also very much aware that those earlier iterations of this person “I am” are still with me, and I am fully inclusive of all those earlier moments, earlier actions, earlier yearnings… I am not separate from myself. Or… am I? How does that work, exactly? Something to think about another time; what are we “made of”? Funny in between sort of morning, this morning.

My mind wanders with the music. It’s that sort of morning. 🙂

The holidays ahead begin to take shape. After a conversation with my Traveling Partner yesterday, I am happily planning for the possibility that he may come up for some portion of the holiday, a nice surprise. It’s not a certainty, and I am reluctant to become overly invested in sharing the holiday with him. I do like planning, though, and I’ll enjoy being prepared if/when. 🙂 It’s about little things, like having things he likes to snack on already stocked, and having gifts under the tree for him, too. The rest easily takes shape on its own; we comfortably spend time together, and enjoy hanging out together. Makes sense – he’s my best friend.

I notice the time. How the heck is it already 5:30 am? Then… I realize it is neither all that late, nor is it at all unexpected. I sigh out loud, and also sort of chuckle, awkwardly. Will today be built on a foundation of surreal weird moments of misperception and cognitive weirdness, generally? I don’t need that, I’ve got a busy work day ahead… I let the music pull me back to that in between space, neither fully “now”, nor truly any other moment, either. It’s enough to be.

I take a deep breath and relax as I exhale. I finish my coffee, and prepare to begin again. 🙂

I woke with some difficulty. Groggy, a bit slow, sluggish really, and somewhat irritable, I manage to pull myself up. I sit. A while. Eventually, I get up, bump the thermostat back up a bit, turn on a light, take medication, shower… all the things. I drank my first coffee with little patience for such things, and no lingering recollection of it.

It is the Monday of a short workweek followed by a holiday. I am exceedingly excited about the holiday, admittedly less so about the compressed, busy workweek ahead of me. The weekend was lovely, quiet and productive, and entirely restful. A good beginning. I stayed up later than I meant to last night, reading quietly and losing track of time. In spite of the grogginess that results from getting a little less sleep than my body clearly expected, and feeling mildly irritated by that, I am also managing to be rather merry.

The next couple days will be quite busy. The weekend with my Traveling Partner will be a highlight of the year, and I’m excited to be well-prepared. There are still a couple things I’d like to have done and out of the way. My list is well-worked, and there’s very little left. With a chuckle I add and cross off a couple other things I got done, that I hadn’t actually planned to do.

I haven’t yet swept the leaves off the deck (again).

A list, a calendar, some plans, a few ideas, and a handful of moments ahead to enjoy on a holiday… I am eager to begin again. It’s a good time for that. 🙂

The holiday season is just at the edge of “now”. Thanksgiving is next weekend and I’m excited about welcoming my Traveling Partner “home” – to this home – for a few days of his good company, shared at leisure. I’ve been daydreaming about it since July – literally  since I moved into this space. lol Dreaming doesn’t get me far, though, it just feels nice.

I shifted gears from dreaming to planning once he had confirmed confirmingly that he would indeed, no fooling, actually be coming up, and that he had a plan to do so. 🙂 This morning, I sat down with my coffee and made my weekend “to do” list, and extended my planning from thinking over the holiday menu, and how best to stock the pantry for his stay, to also putting the house in order for having a guest, and adding little touches like specifically stocking the bathrooms with his brands, preferred products, and common OTC remedies I know he favors, and “detailing” my space. This doesn’t send me into a frantic flurry of panicked task completion, because that isn’t who I am. What it does is give me some structure to hang onto while I tidy up my corner of the world, and prevents me from losing track of what I intend to get done. I won’t finish all of it. That’s absolutely a given; I will want to do more than is possible to do. What is also a given is that I am okay with that. 🙂 The weekend is about love and celebration and gratitude, and at no point has my Traveling Partner suggested that my real value lies in my ability to wash a dish, vacuum a carpet, or do a load of laundry. lol I do like order, and I enjoy being a relaxed hostess – tidying up a bit makes me feel more relaxed, and… prepared.

So, this weekend is the point at which I shift gears again, going from planning the weekend to being prepared for it – which has to include also be ready for all that is not/was not/could have been planned. 😀 Yep. You read that right; I plan for spontaneity, then attempt to be prepared for it. LOL 😀

A low stress, relatively simple holiday meal for two, and a weekend in my partner’s good company sounds like a lovely way to spend a couple days away from the office. I’m looking forward to it. Hell, I’m looking forward to the weekend of tidying up, too! Sure, there are verbs involved, and I’m not suggesting that I specifically enjoy doing dishes, vacuuming, breaking down boxes for recycling, or doing laundry, but I very much enjoy the outcome of doing those things, and doing them with care, because the outcome matters to me personally and supports the quality of life I enjoy. I have learned to embrace the doing of them as both necessary and precious. Every dish I wash is something I worked hard for. Caring for them makes a lot of good sense. The way I feel when I see how tidy my kitchen is, recognizing that this is something I have done for me, because I like it, feels satisfying and nurturing. I feel cared for. It doesn’t detract from that feeling that I am the one caring for me day-to-day – shouldn’t I be? 🙂

Don’t get me wrong – I am not a “neat freak”. Being tidy and orderly doesn’t “come naturally” to me, nor is it a compulsion. I have to work at it. The outcome feels wonderful, and I do love living in a very tidy orderly environment, but omg – the verbs. This is what makes it possible to use my own environment, cared for by me, to gauge my emotional and mental wellness in the moment; everything goes to shit when I am descending into disorder, having a rough time of things, or losing my damned mind. When I’m sick, I struggle to stay caught up on every day basic housekeeping – which means whether I am fully aware of it or not, I am also likely failing to care for myself well, and since I can see the housekeeping more easily than I can see whether or not I am taking care of myself, it’s an effective early warning system to simply look around and “see how I’m doing”, based on the housekeeping. Little things can say a lot. (Sometimes they just say I need to get more rest, because I’m too tired to care for myself, sometimes they say I am over-committed to other activities and need to spend more time at home.)

…I’m pretty sure that a horribly messy crowded disorganized insufficiently clean unsafe or unhealthy household actually literally “makes me crazy” – or, at a minimum, crazier.

Looking around, it feels good to see that I’m generally well-prepared for life, for guests, for friends to drop by. There are some things I’d like to get done. There are some small improvements I can make that function as reminders to take time for me. I’m eager for the work day to end, for the weekend to begin. I’ve got concert tickets for tonight… then… sleeping in sounds nice… then… chores! LOL I am every bit as eager to get started on the housekeeping as I am to go to the concert tonight. 🙂

…So many verbs.

My coffee is finished. I make a second cup and get started on a grocery list. Thanksgiving won’t prepare itself!