Archives for posts with tag: love matters most

I woke this morning with a song in my head. That’s not so strange. It’s not even strange for it to be a love song; it’s been that sort of weekend. What is odd is that it is a Frank Sinatra version of a Cole Porter classic. lol Nothing against Frank, but he’s not generally my choice of crooner for most jazz standards. lol

… The strangeness didn’t stop me from singing along with the song in my head (and heart) all the way to the trailhead…

It is quite a chilly morning for May. I’m glad I wore my frumpy warm favorite baggy sweater. I almost didn’t and I would have regretted any other choice this morning. It’s almost freezing. There is a dense fog clinging to the marsh lowlands. I swap soft shoes for my sturdier boots and head down the trail.

Dawn beats me to the trailhead these days.

Yesterday was a lovely day. I got home from my walk and spent the day on household tasks, mostly laundry, and made time for some reading and played a video game. It was a relaxed day in my Traveling Partner’s good company. I walked thinking about love and feeling grateful and uplifted, rested and recharged.

I baked the best brownies I’ve ever made.

I tried a new brownie recipe. The results were fantastic. I’ve never made better. I used Joshua Weissman’s Fudgey Brownie recipe from his Texture Over Taste cookbook, which differs slightly from the recipe of the same name online (otherwise I’d link it). Seemed like a good day for brownies – and it was. They were so good my beloved had me talked into baking another batch today (they’re easy), but adulthood caught up with him during the night and he later asked me not to. They’re quite irresistible, and also full of sugar; not ideally healthy, and best served as an infrequent treat.

I ran out of energy before I ran out of daylight, and kept things quite simple for dinner.

Just a bowl of ramen.

I smile thinking my thoughts and hearing the sound of my steps crunching along the marsh trail as I walk. The fog enveloped me in my solitude. I could see sunlight in the treetops as I stepped along. I reach my halfway point and stop with some reluctance; 38 degrees (F) feels colder in May than it did in March. lol Still, I stop and write awhile. It is a thing I do.

I’ll finish my walk (probably with my hands jammed into my pockets for warmth), then go to the store before I head home. It’s another day of housework, minus the relaxed shilly-shallying of yesterday. There is a new week ahead, and it’s time to set aside play in favor of getting things done. Laundry. Tidying up. It’s not really a long list – I’ll even find time in the garden. An ordinary day, in what feels like a mostly pretty ordinary life. It is mine, and there are choices to make, actions to take, and projects to see to completion. I know my results will vary. That’s fine. When I fall, I get back up. When I fail, I begin again. It’s a journey. I smile at the rising sun and get to my feet with a song in my heart…

…”Night and day, you are the one…

…It’s already time to begin again.

I’m feeling sort of tender-hearted and starry-eyed this morning. It’s another pleasant day off and I’ll likely spend quite a lot of it in the garden, which is delightful. The weather is mild and the air smells of Spring flowers and mown lawns. My Traveling Partner made me a really cute 3D printed hydroponic strawberry tower (well, or for any sort of plant that will do well in that planter), and today I’ll wash some hydroponic “rocks” for the medium, check to see if I have “grow plugs” for planting seeds, maybe make a trip to storage with my Traveling Partner for this-or-that that we have, but not immediately on-hand. Fun. I love Spring. I love the way my partner loves me.

I got home from my walk this morning and sat down to do the payday stuff without stress. Nice. Finished that pretty quickly ready to move on to other things. I overlooked a really cool 3D printed image my beloved made for me “for our anniversary” (shit! I didn’t get or give him anything but my love. LOL) He made certain I saw it, and my eye keeps coming back to it, sitting on my desk now. I feel very loved.

Ooh – pretty!

I am delighted with the work he does creatively. He’s a different sort of artist than I am, myself, and I enjoy that so very much! He makes many things for my enjoyment, and to enhance the ease in my life, and the quality of my experience day-to-day. I sometimes feel inadequate doing “little more than” domestic tasks, caregiving, and bringing home a paycheck while he’s still partially disabled. I know that I’m not inadequate at all; and he tells me every day (in words and in actions) how very much he values me – both my efforts and my presence in his life. It’s nice. Good partnership.

I breathe, exhale, and relax, add a few things to my “to-do list” for today. Garden stuff. I’m glad I took the day off for a long weekend. Sure, I certainly “earned it”, but also I need it and I am enjoying it. Good choice. Time well-spent, on love, loving, and gardening. 😀

Speaking of gardening… on my way back into the house yesterday evening from a bit of wandering in the garden with an eye out for weeds and rosebuds, I spotted “a new neighbor”. A wee fancy sort of spider clinging to the siding, munching some other sort of less-than-ideal-to-have-around spider and watching me approach. I delighted in his fancy coloring, and snapped a picture to share with my partner before this wee neighbor hid from view or moved on.

A welcome sort of wee spider.

The clock is ticking. There is an entire day ahead! Flowers to smell, seeds to plant, weeds to pull, moments to enjoy with a partner I adore – an entire life to live – and it’s my own. Wow. I think it’s a good time to begin again.

I’m sipping my coffee and eagerly looking forward to a long weekend. I’m taking a couple days off to enjoy my Traveling Partner’s companionship and love without having anything else to do (like work) to take my attention away from the joy that is this good partnership. 14 years married. 15 years together. Hell, I didn’t live with any previous partner, nor even my parents for 15 years! LOL This is worth celebrating. No plans, just presence. (And maybe some sleeping in?)

I breathe, exhale, and relax, and feel the simmering excitement that is, for me, a characteristic of celebrating just about anything, however small. Spring feels like a time of “renewal”, too, so there’s that. I love that we got married in springtime. Each year, as the flowers bloom all around, it feels like we renew even our love for each other. I like that. I’m grateful for this partnership; it has brought me a long way on this path I’ve chosen, and my Traveling Partner is a man I can count on for wise counsel, deep enduring affection, and honesty. I smile to myself and think “I chose wisely”. I hope he feels the same.

A rather random thought crosses my mind and fills me with a sense of my partner’s love, “he may not care at all about the flowers, but he cares deeply about how much I love my garden”. Perspective on love. I sit with that awhile, feeling both grateful and fortunate. There’s nothing about this that is “deserved” – we both work, every day, at making our love deep and strong and enduring. We earn each other’s respect and affection over and over again. We give each other reason to be grateful to share the journey for as long as we can. Some days I earnestly wish we might have the chance, truly, to live forever – just to enjoy each other longer.

I smile to myself and look out the window onto a beautiful Spring morning. The deer stopped by my garden yesterday and ate my newly planted peppers right to the ground, sampled the beans (they weren’t to her liking, apparently) and moved on. I laughed, frustrated but still merry. There is childlike delight in seeing the deer pass through, and it’s hard to be mad that they also enjoy the taste of my garden. lol I’m glad I made space for a bit more garden on the other side of the house, in a spot the deer can’t really get to at all. My “blue jay friend” who follows me around the garden while I work each year (for the last couple years) has returned to keep me company, too. He takes a position nearby when I’m in the garden, and follows me as I work, from bed to bed, from branch to branch, curious about what I’m up to, and occasionally finding a tasty bug to enjoy as I weed and water. The robins visit the lawn daily, picking bugs from the soft ground after the Anxious Adventurer waters. I love this season for so many reasons. The roses have buds now, and it is a quiet race between “Baby Love” and “Rainbow Happy Trails” to flower first. Something ate the Dahlia tubers, but the primroses are thriving. My garden is a happy sanctuary filled with lessons on resilience, patience, will, effort, love, and making good choices, and it is also a living metaphor I spend considerable time reflecting upon. I feel enriched and fortunate to have even this small garden. I laugh when I think about how many roses I’ve managed to wedge into this small space, each (all but one) thriving. More than anything else, having this small suburban home and wee garden space has contributed to a profound feeling of security in my life, much in the way that my partnership with my Traveling Partner has made me feel secure in my heart. It’s a nice place to be – and I am so grateful.

The clock ticks. The day begins. There are things to do before the long weekend comes. Choices, verbs, and my results may vary. There is no time to waste – each moment is so fleeting – but it is important not to rush them; they only come once. Each moment unique like the butterlies in my garden, and the flowers. Still… it is time to begin again. I should get started. 😀

Valentine’s Day. Pretty serious “Hallmark holiday”, I know. It’s also, paradoxically, a wonderful thing to see a celebration of carnal and romantic love on a holiday calendar mostly controlled by fairly repressed, repressive, puritannical minds. It’s about the love, not the candy, not the cards, not the children in classrooms exchanging tokens and favors years before they have any capacity for romantic love (and isn’t that just a little weird?). I’ve said it before – all of it. Worth repeating, but maybe not for re-writing. lol

So much love it regularly spills onto canvas. 🙂

It is about the love.

I slept in. Snowy morning, no work, cozy quiet home – it’s lovely. My Traveling Partner woke about the same time I did. I made breakfast and coffee, we enjoyed the moment together. He gave me a little something for the holiday, I added something to the shop that he wanted very much. It isn’t about that, though, it’s about the love. It’s not about the breakfast together. It’s not about the gifts (we often don’t give each other anything at all). The love stands on its own, enduring and sweet and deep and passionate and warm and nurturing.

Love, smiles, coffee – a pleasant start to the day doesn’t have to be fancy.

How do I know it’s love? How does anyone know? I’ve been wrong before – most of us are wrong about love eventually. It’s easy to mistake lust for love. To mistake fondness for love. To confuse codependence with love. To confuse habit with love. Funny (strange) how easily we’re wrong about love, when it is so incredibly important to creating a life to thrive in. So… how do I know this is love? Because I’ve got options, and I’m comfortable with that knowledge – and I’m here because here is where I most want to be. Same is true for my Traveling Partner, and I feel comfortably confident in that, too. We’re here because here is what we choose, because we want to be here. Together on this journey. Love. Neither of us “has to be here”. Neither of us is trapped in this relationship or this life – we could walk on if we chose to. Options. It’s not tragic. It’s not a threat. It’s just real. We choose each other out of love. It’s not always perfect or perfectly easy. We’re individual human beings with our own perspective, our own experiences behind us, our own thoughts on life, love, and the world. Sometimes we disagree. Sometimes we hurt too much to be kind or patient. We still go right on loving each other.

Is love a journey or a destination? Or… is love a verb?

I have a love for this particular human being that has exceeded my understanding of what love could be. I enjoy that, and I work to live up to what love requires. My Traveling Partner is my best friend, and my muse. My enduring source of encouragement, and perspective that isn’t my own. He brings balance and fun to a life that might otherwise lack it (have you met me?). I often think about “how we got here” – more than I think about “where we’re going”. I am surprised that our paths crossed more than once in our busy lives, and that we are so connected now. Love endures. I’m glad that it does. I’m grateful.

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

I’m glad I didn’t let myself stay trapped in relationships that weren’t built on love. The best gift I’ve ever given myself has been freedom from bad relationships – the choices to walk on. Sometimes I’ve been too slow to make those choices, holding on to hope for too long, but I did get there. Love is worth working towards, and worth choosing. No substitute is adequate – better to have nothing than to endure less than real love (my opinion).

Love matters most.

I smile to myself and finish my coffee. I grin when I see the plush “mochi cat” pillow-toy my beloved gave to me – reminds me how much I am loved. I don’t know what the future may hold, but I hope that it holds a lot more of this. The love. However long love endures, I am grateful to have had it. There’s nothing else that feels like this.

I went to bed with a headache. I woke up with a headache. It’s not even unusual anymore, and as close to “permanent” as chronic seems to get. I mostly have this headache. It’s not what I want to have on my mind, this morning, but here I am sipping my coffee and thinking through (and about) this headache. Like so many things, it is what it is (nothing more, nothing less, and only that).

I breathe, exhale, relax. I double-check that I actually took my pain medication this morning; it does nothing much for the headache, really, but not taking it would definitely contribute to making the headache worse. I get up, stretch, get more coffee. The office coffee is pretty mediocre, but this morning it isn’t actually bad. That’s something. I take a minute to appreciate that, and to be grateful. How much longer will coffee even be affordable? Or… available at all? Will I live to see coffee fade into obscurity, a legengary delight of a bygone era? I know I’ll live to see it become more expensive, perhaps unaffordably so for someone of modest means, such as I am. What strange disturbing times we live in. It saddens me, and I let my sorrow and rage wash over me momentarily before I sigh and make a point to let it go. It’s a work day, there are other things that need my attention.

A shadow of myself.

Another breath, another moment, another thought. The morning sunshine casts my shadow on the bare wall beyond the desk. “Nothing to see here,” I chuckle to myself and my shadow.

…This headache, though…

Valentine’s Day is coming. I’ve said this about that. On the other hand, my beloved Traveling Partner actually has made a practice of getting me a gift and taking a moment to honor the sentiment of the day with me, every year for rather a long while. I enjoy that time together. I enjoy celebrating love in an authentic and romantic way. Last year was… not any of that sweet stuff. lol No idea why, it just wasn’t a great day. “Human” is not always easy and our path is neither paved nor even.

I sigh to myself. I’ve got a lot to be grateful for – even this headache does not diminish that. I sip my coffee grateful for love, most especially. (I wonder what my Traveling Partner got me for Valentine’s Day…?) I turn my thoughts to work. It’s time to begin again – already.