Archives for posts with tag: love and lovers

There is so much we get to decide for ourselves, so many options on life’s menu to choose from moment to moment, day to day, over the course of a life, lived. We choose a lot of stuff. We make a lot of choices. Many decisions are in our hands. There is something we don’t get to decide; we don’t get to decide if we’ve hurt someone else. They get to decide that, as the person who feels hurt. Period. End of discussion. Non-negotiable. We only know our own intention, and we’ll lie to ourselves about that, if it suits us. (Yes, you too. Yes, me too.) We tend to make ourselves the protagonist in our own narrative – and “the good guy” as well.

Yesterday I hurt my traveling partner’s feelings. I wasn’t sure how initially; I was feeling pretty fucking hurt myself, as it happened. He’d managed to hurt my feelings, too. He brought his hurt feelings to my attention immediately. I felt crappy for hurting him, angry that he’d hurt me, and resentful that he “got to it first”, resulting in also feeling that I had no legitimate opportunity to speak up about my own hurt feelings with him directly, without undermining the sincerity of my apology for hurting him. It was a less than ideal situation for good communication, or affectionate support. Still… I muddled through, and stayed true to one understanding of emotions I have learned I can count on; when we feel hurt, whatever the circumstances, we want the person we perceived has hurt us to acknowledge our suffering, and the part they played in it, and if possible we want them to make it right (or at least to apologize sincerely without making excuses). It’s an important part of treating others well to be able to apologize wholly, to mean it, and to handle that quite separately from our own hurts. That’s hard sometimes.

It's hard to unsay the words.

It’s hard to unsay the words.

I don’t always recognize that I’ve hurt someone. I don’t always understand why they are hurting. If they are hurting, and they tell me they are hurting, I accept that the hurt they are experiencing is truly their experience; it isn’t up to me to decide for them what hurts. No amount of comparison to my own experience, or other experiences, can serve to define, clarify, or place limits on the experience of someone saying they are hurt; it’s their experience, no one knows like they do. Let’s put another period right there, while we’re at it – this is also a non-negotiable on life’s journey; we don’t get to tell someone else how they feel. Just stop doing that shit. (I still catch myself, sometimes, and it usually begins innocently enough as an attempt to connect, to understand, to empathize… doesn’t matter much how it begins, if it ends with me telling you how you feel, I am in error for doing so, regardless whether I am coincidentally correct about your emotional state.)

Search all the books that matter most to you, there are still verbs involved. :-)

Search all the books that matter most to you, there are still verbs involved. ๐Ÿ™‚

I’ve gotten decently skilled at some of the emotional intelligence stuff… It hasn’t necessarily eased the journey in any noteworthy way. lol I am quite human, and struggle most with emotions within the context of my most passionate intimate relationships like pretty nearly everyone else. I’m okay with that, it is a process and there is no lack of love. I felt sad to have hurt my traveling partner’s feelings. Keeping my sadness to the side, without disrespecting my own emotional needs, I made myself commit to listening deeply, however much his words hurt me (there was nothing abusive about them, just painfully frank, and striking directly at where I also hurt most, myself, in that moment). In listening with great care, and great compassion, I stayed open to accepting that I had hurt him, regardless of my intent. I apologized. He lashed out, hurt and angry, and I apologized again for hurting him, while I wept private tears. My morning felt pretty blown. My head ached. I felt heartsick.

Perspective matters. I often find it here. ;-)

Perspective matters. I often find it here. ๐Ÿ˜‰

I took the space I needed to care for my own heart. That was a mixed effort for some time. It got easier after my traveling partner had time to give consideration to the morning, himself, with a clear head, and unencumbered by his own hurts. He apologized to me. We mutually acknowledged the misunderstandings, the miscommunications, mistakes resulting from the order in which text messages were received or read, the way key words and phrases evoke emotional reactions, we reinforced our value to each other, and took time to say soothing, caring things. We moved on.

Be love. It's a choice. Love is a verb.

Be love. It’s a choice. Love is a verb.

Did I hurt my traveling partner’s feelings deliberately? No. I wouldn’t. It’s not my way and I find no value in willfully treating people poorly. Did I hurt his feelings at all? He said I did, therefore that is his experience; my own, in that moment, is not relevant to his experience – even if I am also hurting. (Those are quite separate experiences.) It’s hard not to respond to my lover’s pain with my own pain – but it’s not productive, generally, to do so.

Our own pain easily manages to feel like the worst pain we’ve ever known (and generally without regard to whether we’ve ever hurt worse in the past, in other circumstances). Our approach to the pain of others is differentย – we want to fix it, to help, and we most certainly don’t want them hurting, we try to make it go away, or try to ignore it. As silly as it seems to read it in print, we behave as though we can use our words to re-craft our experience omitting their pain. It just doesn’t work that way. Sometimes people hurt. Sometimes we are the reason why they are hurting. The result, too often, is that we put our own pain ahead of the pain of others and end up imagining our pain hurts worse, when we cannot possibly know that, and can’t validate that assumption even by asking. The kinder choice is simply to be compassionate about pain, and to apologize when we’ve hurt someone. In mutually supportive relationships among equals, this is a reciprocal practice.

It’s still super hard though; if I feel hurt I want that attended to, and letting it go long enough to care for the pain of another is one of the more difficult practices I practice. Sometimes the result, as with yesterday, is that after that hurt person is cared for, they return that care and soothe my hurt in return. Sometimes that is not the case, and I must care for myself. The thing about that… it’s okay. I’m getting pretty good at caring for myself, and when I must, I can count on me to do so pretty skillfully. The most important thing is to refrain from treating myself badly while supporting someone else. Yesterday I managed it through a haze of tears over text communication… I don’t know that I could have done it with as much success in person. I’m still very much a student. I need more practice.

I keep practicing.

I keep practicing.

My traveling partner and I enjoyed a splendid fun evening, later on, and not “as if nothing had happened” – that’s a place I don’t personally want to get trapped. Instead, we enjoyed the deeper intimacy of two human beings, fully human, loving each other humanity and all, awake and aware, present with each other. When we greet each other our embrace wrapped us both in warmth and affection, and the shared understanding that we’re really there for each other – even when we’re the ones bringing the pain. Those sincere reciprocal apologies built on respect, consideration, compassion, and openness, delivered with awareness, and accepted with heartfelt relief make a huge difference. We go forward stronger. Love wants a good apology without reservations, and without excuses. It’s okay to save reasons for another moment, a different conversation, some other time.

This morning I sip my coffee, content and calm. No lingering tears, no “emotional hangover”. It’s nice. It’s been a long journey to get here. There is further to go. Today is a good day for housekeeping, and becoming the woman I most want to be. Today is a good day to practice loving well.

Let’s not talk about the election. Please just be your best self today, when you go to the polls to make your choice (if you happen to be a voting citizen in the United States). We’ll see what comes of it tomorrow.

This morning I am not dealing with petty bullshit or drama, and that feels good. It can be a difficult choice to make, and reinforcing boundaries about something so commonplace as “drama” can be met with a lot of resistance if friends and loved ones are used to hijacking other lives with their poison. We’re each having our own experience. My idea of drama may be the circumstances you are mired in, needing emotional support. My lack of interest in drama is not expressed as “no one has time for your feelings”, day-to-day, it’s more about making a point not to continuously rehash the same moment of conversation or pain, past any point of gaining understanding or perspective. There comes a time to let it go, or make a choice to handle things quite differently. Turmoil sucks.

I recently had to set boundaries with a friend who made a point of angrily slamming my door during a stressful moment with her partner; that’s the drama I’m not having. Don’t slam my damned door. Non-negotiable. Door-slamming and yelling stress me out, and have no practical value whatsoever. Use your words. Setting the boundary was easy, facing her defensiveness and resistance to hearing that she’s violated a personal boundary of mine was unpleasant nonetheless. I expected an apology, and got an angry resentful reply instead. Rather than allow that to escalate, I let it go. I will continue to reinforce that boundary. If the undesirable behavior continues, I may choose not to have that friend back into my space. I like it to be quite calm and safe-feeling here.

I enjoyed a fun evening with my traveling partner last night, although somewhat unexpectedly. Only somewhat; the quantity of drama in his everyday experience in another relationship is so ludicrous, from my own perspective it hardly seems endurableย – I know to expect the unexpected in my own experience, as a consequence. Last night we let all that go, evenย the stress and doubt and hurt feelings and anger, we let it all go and just enjoyed each other. The evenings are short. It’s a far better choice than becoming swamped in negative emotion, chaos, and bullshit during the limited precious time we have together. We talked about the future. We enjoyed the present. We got some sleep.

Embrace a peaceful moment. Breathe. Repeat.

Embrace a peaceful moment. Breathe. Repeat.

It’s a new day. Today is a good one to begin again. Today is a good day to right our wrongs. Today is a good day to consider what we are doing (about, with, and to each other) with more care than we did yesterday. Today is a good day to have a serene heart and to choose love. Today is a good day for choices that change the world.

I woke with a smile an hour ahead of my alarm. It’s a calm quiet morning. It’s more than enough, in all the best ways. I sip my coffee, smiling still, very much aware of my good fortune in this lovely moment.

I saw my therapist yesterday. It’s been a long while, and the visit had its own flow, its own unique vibe, familiar, intimate, comfortably supportive, safe enough to reach into the darkest pit of anxiety, fear, or damage, and come through the experience still whole and with my sense of self intact. I arrived home to enjoy the evening with my traveling partner. It was a lovely fun evening, and we shared some of that with friends.

Only one thing marred an exquisitely lovely evening of fun among friends; drama. OPD (Other People’s Drama). Close friends, in a quiet moment, began an obviously stressful conversation about personal finances. I did my best to give them some privacy and overlooked it as things started to escalate emotionally. My place is a “drama free zone” by choice and by design; once things began to escalate, I attempted to communicate a boundary, first by gently working to change the conversation. I was not effective. They continued to have their moment. Although we had planned to have dinner together, one partner stormed off all door-slamming-ly to deal with things elsewhere, leaving the other rather morosely working to deal with it from the vantage point of my dining room table, staring into a personal device, exchanging messages at length. Who hasn’t been there?

It's hard to unsay the words.

It’s hard to unsay the words.

In spite of my sympathy, and my compassion, my own self-care is a higher priority than OPD, and the house rules include such things as “don’t slam the door, or the cupboards, or – yeah, actually don’t slam shit”, and “don’t yell”. These are non-negotiable. Says who? Um… me. My house, my rules, my way. The eventual return of the partner who stormed off was accompanied by an air of “who me? nothing happened with me,ย why?”, and followed by an abrupt departure by the pair, headed for other things – and no apology for the drama. My final attempt to communicate a reminder to the door-slamming friend that my home is a drama free zone was met with a weirdly childish defensiveness, as though it were more important to assign blame than to be accountable for ones actions and show some consideration for my space, and my boundaries. It was uncomfortable. That discomfort lingers.ย I’m not yet certain how I’ll deal with the whole mess once I have a chance to process it.

I set that aside and return to the morning, here, now, this lovely quiet morning. Last night was unexpected and delightful – what does tonight hold? There’s nothing on my calendar for the weekend, and a quiet weekend at home sounds really good. I laugh about that, reminded that last night’s great joy was built on a foundation of music, laughter, and boisterous good times. It was not quiet here last night. I think about my traveling partner, and smile. I am well-loved indeed. Finding that comfortable balance between planned and spontaneous, boisterous and chill, rules and anarchy, boundaries and the things that lay beyond them is all part of the journey, I suppose.

Love matters most.

Love matters most.

What a lovely morning to begin again.

It’s a funny thing about the squishy bit of flesh so completely encased in the roundish object perched atop my neck – it is powerful. Magical. Vulnerable to deceits of all kinds, most particularly those that source within its own powerful magical self. It is so easy to cast a sort of spell on myself, with nothing more complicated than an assumption or two, a handful of expectations, and a moment taken out of context. I can completely alter my experience, and it seems fairly practical to call it “magic”, since doing so doesn’t actually require anything real at all, and has the potency to change my own experience, and the experience of others. (And actually, reality is sometimes an impediment to our internal narrative.)

I’ve mislead myself any number of times in life with a few assumptions and expectations. I’ve acted on those, or (over)reacted to them, without any clarification, without a complete picture of the circumstances, facts, or any awareness that everything is definitely not all about me, personally, particularly in someoneย else’s experience. Acting on the made-up shit in my head doesย not improve my experience, generally, and living alone has been a powerful lesson in the value of testing assumptions, getting clarification on shared plans, setting realistic expectations – and verifying that my understanding of those is shared – and then still just not taking so much day-to-day small shit so personally.

Still, and again. The very best practices work that way.

Still, and again. The very best practices work that way.

Most human primates are pretty thoroughly wrapped up in themselves moment-to-moment, and are not acting with any ill-intent. Our worst most hurtful, most damaging, most vile, actions are often merely cluelessly inconsiderate, or painfully ignorant. It’s harder to take such things personally, when I am aware that this is the case, but in the moment it is sometimes difficult not to react to hurtful bullshit, allowingย the squishy bit of flesh wrapped in this shell of bone on top of my neck to work some magic, and find myself living some entirely different experience filled with enemies, confrontation, pain, distress, tension… It is easy to develop bad habits with this magical brain thing, and we become what we practice.

I woke early this morning. I returned to sleep with ease. I slept well and deeply and without any troubling dreams. When I woke, though, my first thought on waking was the peculiar last message from my traveling partner, it seemed distant, even terse, and I hadn’t heard from him during the day, although our original plan had been to spend the entire weekend together. Our plans changed with circumstances, it happens, and I had no heartache over it. Still… I woke very much wondering, at least initially, what was up with… “the chilly tone”…

So… here’s the magic in action…when did “peculiar” shift to “distant, even terse”? How did that morph into a “chilly tone” without having more information than I had when I went to bed last night? Isn’t that… odd? Nope. Not odd at all. It’s “a magic trick”, and my brain in the magician. I am the wide-eyed naive audience member – aware that it is a trick, and still bamboozled. I shrug it off, self-correct, and make coffee; I don’t have any data to support any of those emotional assumptions, and can’t determine that his last message was anything other than two words, sent after I had crashed, seen through bleary eyes when I got up to pee during the night. I had no context, and no reason to make assumptions about intent, content, or meaning, and everyย good reason to assume – based on prior confirmation, and tested assumptions – that indeed, I am loved, and that no ill will, terseness, distance, or chilly tone existed at all. Why would it?

Love means us know harm. There's value in treating it that way. :-)

Love means us noย harm. There’s value in treating it that way. ๐Ÿ™‚

I sat down to write after meditation, and my first interaction with human kind was a merry “good morning” from my traveling partner, and a lol about the auto-correct fail in his good night message. If I had allowed myself to take anything more from the exchange last night, my morning could have been blown on emotional bullshit, hysterics, anger, disappointment, hurt feelings, a sense of isolation, loneliness, feeling disconnected or disposable… on and on. My brain is fantastic at making shit up! My brain doesn’t seem to care much if the shit it makes up is hurtful, it’s just doing brain things. Practicing practices specific to becomingย less reactive, over time, has been a big win, and taken with a firm refusal to yield my heart to untested assumptions, it reduces the frequency of emotional bullshit, tantrums, foolish arguments, confrontational dialogue, hurt feelings, and shitty mornings crying over coffee needlessly. Definitely worth the time practicing the practices. ย Sure, my results vary, and I’m entirely made of human. Today the results have been quite pleasant. I checked myself before I allowed my initial assumptions to become my thinking, and I am enjoying quite a lovely morning as a result.

What will you choose to practice? Where does your journey lead? You decide.

What will you choose to practice? Where does your journey lead? You decide.

It is possible to build a life with very little chaos, in spite of the damage we sustain over a lifetime. There are verbs involved. There is practice required. There’s a third thing, and it is important, required, and sometimes difficult… call it “will”, or “commitment” or… it’s that thing with which one begins again. And again. And again and again – over again, and then again over there, in spite of uncertainty, in spite of failures, and even though results vary. I can’t offer any particular insight onย that; when I don’tย have it, my fails outnumber my successes and I make no particular headway on this journey – on any journey. Having it, I make great progress. I don’t know how I got from not having it, to having it, nor why that change occurred when it did. I do know that this very important change occurred, for me, in my darkest moment, on the razor-thin edge of a very final decision that would have ended all possible opportunity to begin again… the result of a promise I kept to myself, without knowing what the outcome would be. I also know that this particular characteristic of self seems to be spread a bit unevenly over my experience; I bring it more to some situations in life than to others.

I begin again a lot these days. I’m okay with that. Today is a good day to pause and consider how far I’ve come, and all the verbs involved, and all the steps, practices, books, conversations, and hours spent listening deeply to the woman in the mirror. We are each having our own experience. It is a journey – the destination is not the point, and the map is not the world. I am my own cartographer… and trust me, sometimes I’m just doodling over here. (I’m pretty sure that is why my results vary…) It’s helpful to remember that your journey, over there, is not about me. ๐Ÿ˜€

 

This morning I woke up to real moments vastly different than my expectations. Not in any particularly bad way, and without any distress associated with what is essentially a lovely morning, but… the differences are here, and it is now, and now is not what I expected. It’s not the moment that is “at fault”, and that’s an important understanding; expectations are shortcuts, a cheat in life’s game, and they don’t always work. Small differences sometimes make big differences…

Each sunrise is new and different.

Each sunrise is new and different.

I woke alone this morning, although I went to bed uncertain whether that would be the case. I smile as I make coffee, thinking of my traveling partner, thinking about the weekend ahead, thinking about love.

I reached for music first thing, and grabbed what suited my mood best… but… what mood is this? Downliners Sekt… strangely off the beaten path compared to my usual of late. I’m okay with change. I like the music I like, more than enough variety for any mood I might find myself in. Still… it’s a difference, and the day begins.

I made coffee this morning… chose different beans that I usually do. Brushed out my hair after my shower… letting it part to the side, differently than usual. Chose earrings that complement the shirt I chose, differently than I ordinarily might. The days leads into change from the moment I woke… tonight I get my hair colored for the first time since 2013, when I gotย my hair cut very short, cutting away years of color-changes, damage, and metaphorically embracing radical change – and authenticity.

Change itself has sometimes felt like a stranger, an intruder, an interruption in life’s plan… I understand it differently this morning, and embracing change is yet another willful practice, and one that leads directly on the shortest path to personal growth. Today I “bring color back” – a demonstration of will, an opportunity to defy convention (although color has become so commonplace, it’s hardly unconventional, in fact), a moment to embrace ownership – and artistry – over even those elements of my appearance I am “born with”. Appearance reflecting inner self; a statement of purpose. A bit of fun. A celebration of self, and choice, and freedom to do as I will. My will.

I find myself poised on the razor’s edge of a question this morning, peering over the edge of change… What do I want from my life? What can I bring to the world that is uniquely me? Is enough really enough? No one question in words quite captures the question in which my morning is wrapped, they are like the sides of a faceted gem… the actual question being the entirety of the gem, itself, wordless and wonderful. More a “?” than a question in words… a sense of uncertainty, of imminent unknown outcome. Is it as simple as “I wonder what my hair will look like when it is finished?” Sometimes “deep” isn’t a characteristic… it’s more a quagmire. lol

Cold coffee, chilly morning, embracing change.

Cold coffee, chilly morning, embracing change.

My coffee is cold, and the hour is later than I realized… music and questions have filled my thoughts this morning. I am transfixed by imminent change… will I later be transformed? I smile. Just words this morning. Today is a good day for words and questions. Today change is enough. Love is enough. Fun is enough. I think I’ll do that. ๐Ÿ™‚