My homecoming was lovely, although I arrived in what turned out to be the middle of my Traveling Partner’s work day. I did my best to stay out of that, and to respect his work day.
[No AI is used in writing or editing this blog. This is human content for human readers.]
I’m still thinking over experiences and lessons learned from my coastal getaway. Sometimes the processing takes more time than the lived experience. The thoughts come in waves, glimmering with the reflected light of many little fragments and impressions, the way the afternoon sunshine sparkles on the rippled surface of the sea.
It’s a metaphor.
There’s time for all that. I yawn as the sunrise begins to develop color. I drink in the autumn air on the edge of the marsh. A little chime goes off on my phone, reminding me to take morning meds. I stupidly attempt this simple feat without water, and choke on a tiny dry tablet that wants to stick dangerously near my airway. I cough several times, hard, and get relief, but now there’s a spot in my throat that just feels wrong, somehow. Annoying.
Like a moment on fire.
As I sit watching the sky, it lights up in hues of pink, magenta, lavender, and raspberry. So beautiful! No picture would really do this justice, and if I painted it just as it is, I feel certain it would be criticized for lack of realism. It’s quite fantastic and splendid, and I feel fortunate to see it. Wow.
I breathe, exhale, and relax, and think about the day ahead. He has appointments. I have an errand to run. Later, we’ll catch up with each other at home. He proposes we do something together. I agree that sounds nice. No idea what that will mean when we get there… but I’m looking forward to it. It’s easy to forget that today is a work day. I’m glad I took it off, instead of immediately diving back into work!
I sit with my thoughts and this beautiful sunrise. Soon enough it will be time to begin again.
My morning is off to a weird start. I woke to my alarm – rare, I’m usually up earlier. I had forgotten to lay out clothes for today, so had to pick something before I was quite awake (the result being that my earrings don’t seem right to me for the outfit I’m wearing). I left the house feeling rushed, but it had been raining through the wee hours and watering the lawn this morning was unnecessary, so my timing wasn’t off by more than minutes. Perspective and subjective lived experience continue to collide.
Rain clouds wrap the distant hills.
[No AI is used in writing or editing this blog. This is human content for human readers.]
I woke with a poignant love song in my head. It’s the sort of song that can haunt my thoughts for days. It carries so much more meaning and heartfelt understanding of love than some trash pop song. I walk hearing the refrain in my head, grateful to love and be loved.
There’s a strong breeze blowing. Feels like it’ll probably rain more. My bones ache everywhere that arthritis has settled in, and fuck you if you’re perceiving that complaint as a sign of aging. 😆 My arthritis developed in my spine before I ever saw my 30th birthday. It’s been more than thirty years of this shit. (It has worsened and spread with age, over the years though, that’s real.) I could definitely do without being able to predict a rainy day from the way my bones feel, in favor of less pain. Weather forecasting is not a worthy trade off, and not usefully accurate.
I walk on down the soggy path after standing a few minutes at my halfway point. Everything is soaked. No dry place to sit. I walk a bit. Stop. Write a few words. Walk on. It is a different perspective on a Spring morning. It is quite chilly, too. I’m grateful for the warmth of my birthday sweater. A good choice for a chilly rainy morning. I keep walking.
The rain starts and stops, as if uncertain what the day holds, like the pattern of my steps. I don’t know what the day holds either. 😆 Bits of blue sky show through the clouds here and there, and the breeze through the tops of the oaks sounds like ocean waves. The tree tops seem to wave good morning as I pass. For these mature giants to toss about in this effortless seeming fashion, though, implies a real world hazard – branches may break unexpectedly and fall. It happens enough to feel like an ordinary risk, there are downed branches on the trail here and there, but it would be pretty serious if one fell on me.
I happen upon a partially sheltered rock dry enough to sit on and stop for a few minutes. I still feel as if my timing for the day is off somehow. It isn’t, at all. Clear awareness that the feeling and the reality are not aligned makes my anxiety flare up briefly – until I remember how very subjective an individual experience of life and “reality” actually can be (and often are). It’s a nothing moment and my anxiety recedes, slinking away into the background as if ashamed of the half-assed effort.
I breathe, exhale, and relax. I take a few minutes for meditation, and to finish up my writing. I break out in a sneezing fit, because of course I do – can’t have a proper Spring morning without allergies, eh? I’m laughing at myself, because I really expected the rain to rinse all the pollen from the air. That’s what comes of holding on to expectations. I’m glad I stuffed a pack of tissues in my pocket. My last one – I pause to add them to my shopping list for my next trip to the store.
I get to my feet to finish this walk and get on with the day. It’s already time to begin again.
I woke with a song in my head this morning. “Golden Years“, David Bowie…from sometime in the 70’s I think? 1976. An interesting year. His album Station to Station was one of the very first albums I ever owned. No idea why that was the song in my head as I woke… The song still lingering in my ears and my heart as I retired for the evening last night was very different, “End With You“, Benjamin Tod. Both are love songs, and certainly I’m feeling very loved this morning (as I did last night).
[No AI is used in writing or editing this blog. This is human content for human readers.]
The waning full moon setting at dawn.
Another new day begins. I get up, dress, and water the lawn before I head to the trail for my walk. All very ordinary for the life I live now. My “golden years”? Yeah, maybe; I’m as close to living “happily ever after” as I’m likely to get, and it feels good to feel safe and to feel loved. Neither life nor love are “perfect” (whatever the hell that even is), but they’re pretty g’damned good, generally.
I sit with that thought at the side of this local trail as the sun rises, illuminating the stand of oaks that line this part of the path. The moon is a lovely pale pearl against the delicate pastel blue of the morning sky. Pretty. I smile to myself, thinking about a book and two new sweaters – early birthday presents from my beloved Traveling Partner who decided to give me multiple little gifts this year in the days leading up to my birthday, instead of all at once. I grin and swing my feet from my seat on this bench. I’m eager to wear the sweaters (they’re cute and cozy and suit my sense of style), and to read the book (it’s one I’ve been wanting to read). Today will be too warm for sweaters and there will be little time for reading, but these are temporary conditions and do nothing to dim my enthusiasm or change this feeling of being loved.
The sun lights the vineyard, and the clock keeps ticking. I remind myself to enjoy the time I have, “while I’m standing in it” – it’s the only time I’ve got! Now. The rest is either anticipation or memory. I breathe, exhale, and relax, and enjoy this moment.
… The work day will begin soon enough…
I smile like a kid and wonder what my next birthday present might be and what kind of birthday cake I might be enjoying when the day comes? My Traveling Partner knows so well how to delight me. I suddenly miss him with a ferocity that surprises me. He’s not gone, he’s at home, still asleep, and has yet to start his day. 😆 I’m as in love with him as I was the first time I felt his strong arms around me or the tenderness of his touch. I’m fortunate to know a love like this.
… What delights you? What little moments of good fortune put a smile on your face? I hope you make a point of enjoying every fleeting beautiful moment of joy that life brings your way!
I laugh when the song in my heart shifts gears unexpectedly. “Happy Together“… the Turtles? Weezer? Doesn’t matter, it’s the sentiment that matters. The joy. I’ve definitely got a few minutes for joy. Then it’ll be time to begin again. Hopefully I can pack my joy like a lunch and take it with me to enjoy all day.
I drove to the office with a love song in my head. Sweet, endearing, lingering in my memory as a recollection of a time when I yearned for the sort of love I enjoy right now – although back then I didn’t actually believe such love existed at all (it was just that far outside of my own experience of life and the world). I get to the office, pour some coffee, and put on my playlist of “silly love songs” to coast into the new day. (Every song on this list is deeply meaningful to me in some way, with regard to love and loving, but admittedly, some of my choices may not make sense to anyone else – it’s not about that, though, is it?) My reflection smiles back at me in the window. The morning sky is gray and threatening rain. I breathe, exhale, and relax. It’s a lovely morning anyway.
I woke from a deep sound sleep this morning, with serious thoughts still occupying my consciousness, left behind by my dreams. Something about choosing to be less negative, as a means of improving my quality of life, and sharing that thought somehow with those dear ones in my life who are reflexively deeply negative without really giving any thought to how that colors their experience over time. You know the sort, I’m sure (hell, maybe you are that sort – I once was, myself)? I’m talking about the folks whose humor is mostly pretty dark, often very sarcastic, sometimes self-deprecatory in a somewhat disturbing way to listen to? The folks who seem to complain at least a little bit about almost every experience they have? The ones who say “no” or reject ideas before an idea can be fully presented or a sentence completed? Yeah. “Those” people – the chronically negative buzzkills in our lives, who likely mean well, and may even think they are being “realistic” or humorous… How best to communicate to these people that the negativity they embrace with such firm commitment is not only a noteworthy “bring down” in any group (and potentially not as amusing as they may think), but potentially also the actual key to why they feel the way they do in the first place?
…I definitely get tired of chronic bitching almost immediately, and sarcastic “humor” and bitterness unleavened by real joy in life is exhausting to deal with…
What you plant in your garden determines what you harvest, but you’ve still got to pull the weeds.
I smile, listening to the love songs on my playlist – it’s hard to be annoyed while also wrapped in love. I sip my coffee and make room for gratitude; I’m fortunate to be so well loved, and to enjoy the opportunity to love so deeply in return. No doubt that colors my thinking. Certainly, becoming a more positive person generally (at least for me) followed falling in love with this singular human being who is now my beloved Traveling Partner. Sometimes it almost feels like that was some kind of shortcut or cheat code, but when I’m honest with myself, there was a fucking ton of work, and verbs, and practice of practices that also followed the beginning of this relationship – and those things could have been done, and occurred, and created the profound benefits that they did, without regard to being in love. They were choices. That the inspiration to make those choices was this profoundly deep emotion is mostly coincidental (although I wouldn’t change it for all the billions in the world). It’s doable without falling in love.
Bitter is not one of the flavors of Love.
How does one make a change from chronic bitterness and negativity to becoming a pretty positive and upbeat person day-to-day? Are there some “simple steps to being happy” that are being withheld from common knowledge? I don’t even know the answer to that question – I just know what steps I took, myself. Happy to share, I hope this is useful for you in some small way.
If you need therapy, get therapy. How will you know? If you’re chronically miserable, you probably need therapy. If people around you are regularly suggesting therapy, or asking if you’re in therapy, or inquiring about your mental health and whether you’re okay, you may benefit from therapy. Just saying; sometimes we can’t make our journey alone.
Be selective about the practices you practice. We become what we practice. If you practice chronic negativity, bitterness, sarcasm, that’s what you become, and what you fill your life with.
Put your own self-care high on your list of things to do, every day.
Be choosy about your media consumption – what you fill your head with will determine (often) what the content of your thoughts will likely be.
Consider some sort of contemplative practice (like meditation) – make time in your day to “hear yourself think”.
Embrace small joys and celebrate small wins. It just feels good – a lot better than feeling annoyed, disappointed, or bitter.
Practice non-attachment. Clinging to expectations and assumptions is a fast track to being discontent and disappointed.
Do good. Another way to feel good about life, is to contribute to the good in life.
Live! Embrace change. Explore uncertainty. Try new experiences. Learn new things. Walk unfamiliar paths. The menu of The Strange Diner is vast – look it over.
Life is too brief. Don’t waste precious limited mortal moments on pointless performative negativity. Live authentically – and enjoy the joy you find (and create)! Just saying – you do have choices.
I smile and have another sip of my coffee. Good coffee. Good playlist. Good time to begin again. (Good luck on your journey!)
Daybreak comes earlier as Spring approaches. Soon my early morning walks will bring me face to face with the sunrise, but that’s not yet. No need to wait for the sun, though, I have enough light to see the trail.
Cloudy winter morning just before dawn.
As the hints of blue sky are covered by incoming clouds, I lace up my boots. I’ve got the trail alone again this morning. I breathe the cold air, grateful for breath. It’s no small thing to be able to breathe easily, and worth a moment of gratitude.
This morning I am thinking about love. I consider, fondly, this partnership I have, now, and the journey getting here to this place in life. My heart is filled with love songs and enthusiasm. I’m grateful to know love at all – that doesn’t happen for everyone, and I was definitely late to that party! In 1995, I was still confusing lust and love, and it was obvious in my decision making. My heart was full of rage and pain, my head was a mess of chaos and damage. I wasn’t ready for love, at all. It would be many years before I would be.
“Face of Gods: Lust” acrylic mixed media, with ceramic & broken glass, on canvas 10″ x 10″, 2005
In fact, after some peculiar facsimiles of love, over various relationships and several years, it was 2010 before I actually found myself wrapped in love (and confusing it for lust), and another year or so before I began to truly recognize the difference and begin to understand what love demands (and needs to thrive), and I’m still learning.
“Communion” acrylic on canvas with ceramic details, 24″x36″ 2011
This too, is a journey.
The lines between love and lust can be blurry, but there’s no mistaking one for the other. When lust cools, and it sometimes will, love stands fast, unconcerned with such trivia. I walked with my thoughts and love songs in my heart. Nice morning for it. I feel fortunate and grateful to share the journey with my Traveling Partner. Fortunate to love like we do, and fortunate to burn (still) with lust’s fire for this human being I love so well. It’s a potent emotional cocktail.
I laugh to myself remembering a certain friend who had suggested at the time that perhaps this man (who would become my beloved Traveling Partner) was “just using” me… I remember my reply. “If he is? Worth it.” Possibly one of the most true things I’ve ever said. lol I’m grateful (and fortunate) to enjoy loving and being loved. Is there a price to be paid? Sure, isn’t there always? But at least in my own life, the price I’ve paid for lust has been paid in cash and pain, and paid in the damage done and the risk to my safety and sanity, where the price I’ve paid for love has been paid in the coin of a very different realm. I have had to learn to be “better than I am”, and learn to treat my Partner’s heart well. It’s been difficult and demanding. I am better for it, a thousand times over.
Love songs and gratitude are a nice way to start a morning. I smile while I walk, still smiling when I stop to write these few words. Love has made me work so much harder than lust ever would, but it has been so worth it. With a heart full of love, and an eye on the sunrise, I begin again.
