Archives for posts with tag: love

Mornings like this one are nearly as challenging for me as difficult ones; it’s ‘too good’. That sounds silly put that way, and I’m smiling. Tired, too. My traveling partner and I enjoyed a Friday night that still finds me dizzyingly in love, stars in my eyes, a song in my heart, and a lifetime of romance on my mind. I slept well and deeply, although it was past midnight before I slept, and before 7:00 am when I woke. It is a slow and leisurely morning, and I haven’t decided quite what to do with myself… Later I will spend time hanging out with a friend, maybe do something around the house… or nap. I could nap. lol. Stars in my eyes… but I could use more sleep.

My coffee is good, and I am enjoying it with a morning of listening to a favorite musician play beautiful grooves.  Most mornings are every bit this pleasant these days. I think about the musical we watched last night, and how slyly lessons on perspective and how we craft our personal narrative were worked into the humorous jabs at religion. I go about my morning humming catchy bits of the tunes that are still stuck in my head, and blushing and smiling about the delightful romantic evening shared, extraordinary…connected.

Love.

Love.

Another morning or another time will be soon enough for more words. This morning, I am simply enjoying my experience, and savoring the sensation of loving and being loved. It’s enough for this moment. (Enough for most moments.)

It’s true. I’m sipping my morning coffee, half-wondering if I need to adjust my process, or choose different beans…and gently discouraging myself from eagerly planning to move. I consider the move, I’ve organized my thoughts on it, and made some decisions about how it can best be handled – all in the abstract, aside from some exterior photos of the new unit, and a carefully examination of the floor plan. What I haven’t done is get a lot of boxes, and start filling those with books, small items, etc – I could be pre-packing, and I’m not. Not yet.

I’ve no doubt that I will make this move… except for just one small but important detail; price. The unit will be repriced after the remodel is entirely completed. If I can’t afford the price, I won’t be moving – at least not as soon. I’ve come so far with my traveling partner’s guidance, support, and skilled coaching, I will likely be buying a little place of my own within the next two years regardless; the comfortable near-certainty and lack of insecurity about the possibility feels very good. Stable. I have choices and, since choices to be made in the future are not ideally acted upon today, I chill and smile about the possible new apartment without taking further action in this moment. I continue to sip my coffee and let the morning unfold around my thoughts.

52 is late in the game to be buying a first home…and this won’t be my first. It will be my first unencumbered by domestic violence though, which is pretty huge… and it’s going to be the first that I’ll be wise to consider with retirement specifically in mind – I’d like to retire before I am 65, and the home I buy may be the last home I buy, when the time comes.  I want a place that is mine – that I can redecorate or rebuild, as suits me. A home in which replacing the carpets or flooring is entirely up to me, and in which I can freely replace all the light fixtures with whatever I choose without asking anyone at all, would be very nice. Comfort doesn’t have to be expensive, neither does luxury, but too often I find that I can’t ‘get permission’ for small changes that would be so wonderful while living in a rental, or as a housemate. Besides all that, I earnestly want to be able to leave this world knowing, when the time comes, that the choices I have made in life benefit my loves after my departure! I would feel considerable joy knowing that my traveling partner, although grieving, would be grieving his loss from a secure home, his home – unconcerned about going without and able to focus on healing his heart. “Feeling homeless” or displaced is something both he and I have endured far too often in life, already.

Be love.

Be love.

That gets me thinking about feeling secure in life – and in love – and how often people allow anger to cause them to say things to each other that specifically and directly undercut the emotional security of those they claim they love most. “I hate you!” “Get out!” “Why don’t you just go?!” “I don’t want you here!” I hope I live the entire remainder of my life not ever saying something so horrible and distancing to someone I love. How brutally unkind, how lacking in any compassion, how… mean, simply and frankly mean, to say such things to a loved one. How do you justify it (if you have said or done such things)? Isn’t the better choice to make note of our own suffering, and take care of ourselves before we lash out with pure uncensored nastiness toward someone we’ve claimed we love? Seriously? When I see that kind of thing unfolding, I nearly always find myself also wondering “How is it anyone sees this as being ‘love’ at all?”

One great relationship best practice I follow these days is; I don’t threaten the emotional security of my loved ones by withholding affecting, or being mean, when I am angry. I make the effort to replace emotional attacks with authenticity, vulnerability, and listening deeply. Just that. Surely if I love the person I am angry with, the better choice (versus attacking them) is to take care of my own emotional needs (put my own oxygen mask on first) – which really doesn’t leave time for attacking people – and then reaching out to my hurting loved one, connecting, talking, and reaching a comfortable mutual understanding – ideally with all hurts soothed, and the wreckage tidied up with hugs, kisses, and real affection, and because we started with love, why would we end anywhere else? 🙂 There are, of course, verbs involved, and The Big 5 (Respect, Reciprocity, Consideration, Compassion, and Openness) make an important appearance, too.

Treating our loves truly well requires awareness, the choice moment to moment to do so, and practice.  It also requires the basic assumption that our loves mean us no harm, hold us in high esteem, want the best for us in life, and are most specifically and earnestly not “trying to start shit”*. That by itself is pretty huge; if you go around all the time assuming your loved ones have it in for you, aren’t playing fair, don’t look out for your needs, don’t have you in mind at all… well… I gotta wonder first why you think that person loves you if those things are true – and if they aren’t true (or you haven’t made any effort to verify your suspicions clear-headedly in a fact-based way in the first place)… um… wtf is your problem? How do you call those feelings love, yourself? What is it, exactly, that you think love offers you? It definitely took me a while to sort that one out for myself. 🙂

Love.

Love.

My thoughts wind around slowly to values and value statements, generally. I find myself chuckling about the ‘company values’ at work; some of them are two or three sentences and include contradictory statements. I generally find that a ‘value’ can be stated quite simply, and most commonly with a single word. If it takes a sentence – or more – to state a value, it tends to communicate [to me] that the value being expressed is not well understood by the individual making the statement. Sometimes value statements are deliberately unclear, in some cases because the value is being hidden rather than expressed directly. The nature of values – and value statements – became much more important to me when I began, rather late in life, to re-explore my own values explicitly. My ‘Big 5‘ developed out of those conversations with myself.

The power of mindfulness practices to spark honest self-reflection and support self-awareness, as well as awareness generally, has been an important source of personal growth, and necessary for developing a sustainable condition of day-to-day contentment and joy (without needing to aspire to be anything other than entirely human). I don’t really need to count down the days until I move – I will or I won’t, and in time I’ll know which, and that will be plenty soon enough to start a countdown. I don’t really need to count down the days since the last time I hung out with my traveling partner – I’ll see him again, soon enough, and each visit is a lifetime of its own to be cherished, savored, and enjoyed, no counting or score-keeping required. There is so much less sensation of rushing, being rushed, urgency or panic these days. It is enough to enjoy the journey as it is. 🙂

Practice the practices that take you closer to being the human being you most want to be.

Practice the practices that take you closer to being the human being you most want to be.

 

 

*It should go without saying that if you mean someone ill, willfully treat them poorly, want them to suffer, and are regularly actually trying to provoke them into anger, fear, jealously or sorrow, you really seriously honestly just do not get to say you “love” that person – because love doesn’t behave that way. I can at least hope anyone treated thusly will have or gain the wisdom to understand they are not being loved!

 

The work day is over. I’m home after a quiet walk through the park in the increasing darkness of earlier nights. It was a chilly walk, and too dark for good pictures of the attention-getting sights or moments with my camera phone. I arrived home content, and mostly comfortable.

Coming home feels good.

Coming home feels good.

There’s nothing fancy about this particular experience of evening; I am writing while I heat up leftover Chinese food from last night. I smile thinking about the luxury of dinner for two, delivered, and the time shared munching, and laughing over comedic quiz shows. Last night was lovely. Tonight is, too. I consider the evening ahead – there are some shows I have planned to watch, but as so often happens, it isn’t really what is on my mind right now…dinner…writing…yoga…a shower…meditation…the simple basics of a life spent mostly practicing practices that build contentment. I’ve found myself standing in the middle of ‘happy’ an astonishing number of times since I stopped chasing it so desperately.

It’s been quite a distance to come on this peculiarly personal journey… the map gets bigger and more detailed as I become more the woman I most want to be, and tidy up ancient chaos and damage. The map is still not the world. I pause to stir dinner, hoping to avoid scorching it before it entirely heats through. I smile when I think about not having a microwave; of the many modern conveniences of life, it is one that isn’t very meaningful or necessary for me. I’d much rather have the bathroom light on a motion sensor, personally. It’s an aesthetic preference, perhaps, or one of the tiny details of life and choices that deceive us into thinking we’re really very different from everyone else who is also  human. lol

Dinner is almost ready. I pause for a moment and think about how very good things are, generally. I pause and really let that sink in, and enjoy it – and let the small things fall away, in favor of a perspective that puts the greater value on what feels good, and works, and makes me smile. It’s a nice evening to smile about the things that work. That’s enough.

The evening is a quiet one. I arrived home at the end of a busy day with a headache, which has slowly become irrelevant, ignored in the background; my back aches much more. All evening my awareness has bounced between the two. I laid down for a while with the headache. The backache got me up some time later. Yoga eased the backache somewhat. The headache became more prominent. I had a bite of dinner, and meditated later, and found that my headache was substantially eased. I am now most aware of the backache. I’m not bitching, just noticing, being aware, and taking time to monitor these states without judgment, providing myself with whatever symptomatic relief is available, and doing what I can to make the most of the evening nonetheless. It’s a lovely quiet one.

I am enjoying the evening doing quiet things, and making a point to embrace the softer sounds, and the peaceful stillness. It is rare for things to be so entirely quiet, and I find myself wondering if it is the new windows; I don’t hear the traffic. The wall clock in the kitchen, a recent addition, ticks off the seconds quite audibly. It wasn’t long ago I would not have been able to bear the ceaseless ticking reminding me of time slipping away…precious…finite… The quiet tick-tick-tick no longer resonates with finality. It’s just a quiet tick that indicates nothing more or less than the movement, in increments, of the second-hand on a man-made mechanical device that measures time in arbitrarily selected units devised by human beings for record-keeping, communication, and convenience. That quiet ticking has no relevance to my subjective experience of time. The clock does not control me. It’s a nice feeling… I don’t know when I got here. (I wasn’t watching a clock at the time, I guess. lol)

I find myself favoring a different approach to time than I did when I was younger. Relative to subjective experience in the moment, the only time that is ‘finite’ is the time that has already happened, and become ‘the past’; my future, as yet uncreated and only imagined, is entirely infinite and limited only by my imagination itself… And my present? Also infinite – infinitely now – and utterly continuous, and also a series of tiny singular moments that quickly become experienced, and past. In my thinking of it, time isn’t so different from light…sometimes a wave…sometimes particles…sometimes science…sometimes poetry. I mean, sure, I am mortal (as far as I know) and someday I’ll die – I guess at that point I will, myself, pass from the present and into the past, but from my perspective, what then? Will I even continue to know time? I have no particular thoughts on the subject of ‘things after death’, and no answers, no conclusions, no expectations, or assumptions; I am comfortable with accepting that there are both things that are known and things that are unknown…about most things.

I didn’t have any particular notions when I sat down to write. It’s hard to think past this headache, even to notice the ticking clock. Oh, hey. The headache is back. The backache isn’t so bad, though; this chair is pretty comfortable backache-wise.

What time is love?

What time is love?

I find myself just sitting, fingers poised over the keyboard, thinking over my recent conversations with my traveling partner, and feeling secure, compassionate, understanding, and very much in love. For a few minutes neither the headache nor the backache have much to say to me, while love fills my thoughts. I smile, half wondering how is it that I love this particular human being so very much, the way I do? I am not concerned with troubleshooting love.  I am grateful to enjoy any measure of sentiment so profound; it’s a complicated journey, and the good bits are so splendid in good company – the bad bits far easier to endure when shared. I noticed time passing at some point. It wasn’t the clock; my traveling partner hits send on a moment of love on his end, and my reverie ends with a smile renewed when I see the emoji pop up, a brief distraction that is no distraction at all. Love comes first.

Be love, if you can, I remind myself; it’s enough.

Turns out the toughest posts to write, for me, are those on mornings when my heart soars and I want to wax poetic about love. It’s a lovely morning, although I am a tad groggy and my brain is still sort of wandering here and there, and revisiting the lovely evening I shared with my traveling partner over coffees, dinner, and tales of adventure. I would happily overshare graphic romantic details without a thought for discretion, writing endlessly only about the ‘hearts and flowers’ of love and loving… certainly it is worthy subject material, always, and generally prominent in my thoughts on mornings such as this. I do prefer not to write too close to the boundary between joy and total loss of respect for the privacy of others dear to me, though… so, perhaps best to move on to other things?

Modern love

hello, Love

…And there’s the challenge, for me, this morning; what other things could I possibly write about on a morning like this, besides love? It was a great evening, in the company of someone dear to me, and just about perfect in every possible detail. Right at the moment I feel I could sit here smiling softly, wrapped in love, forever. “Forever”, unfortunately, isn’t actually a real thing for a mortal lifetime, and there’s much to learn, and experience (and endure) on this journey that is living. Perspective is a valuable handhold when something goes sideways later and life tries to knock the smile off my face – it may happen, it sometimes does. 🙂

tending the temple of my heart

tending the temple of my heart

Sometimes the hardest hits to my balance come on lovely days like this one. I go out into the world wearing this soft smile, wrapped in love, and don’t realize I’ve ‘let my guard down’ and am not protecting my heart from casual hurts, or have not taken care of my longer term need for balance and resilience by maintaining good practices. Feeling awesome, and feeling in love, sometimes results in taking my state of being for granted and letting good practices slip – because I already feel so good. It’s a mistake worth avoiding with mindful self-care. My day-to-day needs for good self-care don’t go away because I woke up feeling amazing, and feeling loved. There’s still pain to be managed. There are still chores to be done. There is still a budget to be watchful of (and far greater risk of poor impulse control when I feel wonderful). Meditation is still key to building resilience and balance. A healthy diet and appropriate exercise are still needed to maintain good health and promote longevity. Love doesn’t change any of that. Love mostly just feels good…and although I like putting love at the top of my ‘to do list’ (particularly adult romantic sexual love), love doesn’t wash the dishes, make the bed, or make sure I stay on goal with my budget (yeah – it definitely doesn’t help with that last one at all).

love's skills are varied and wondrous, but not always practical

love’s skills are varied and wondrous, but not always practical

Love is the most fantastically wonderful distraction from getting things done! 🙂

"Cherry blossoms" and thoughts of love...there's a metaphor there, somewhere...

“Cherry blossoms” and thoughts of love…there’s a metaphor there, somewhere…

This morning I sip my coffee and think about love’s demands – and the consequences of the actions love can drive. Impulse control issues can result in leaving work too early, or too often, or just sitting staring into a spreadsheet, thinking thoughts of last night, or some night to come. Love can derail my good practices, or find me becoming emotional cling wrap to hold onto any scrap of those lovely sensations just a while longer. Love’s playground becomes a proving ground for my growth over time; am I more easily able to stay on track with work, with planned activities, with other things that urgently matter to me? Am I able to maintain good practices in the face of romantic wonder? Am I grown up – or a little girl doodling hearts and flowers on the back of my notebooks? There is room in my heart – and my experience – for that little girl to remain safe and loved, but it’s also important that she not call the shots in my adult day-to-day experience.

"You Always Have My Heart"

“You Always Have My Heart”

Living alone, I am grateful that I am not particularly at risk of small relationship challenges spoiling my afterglow, that’s one obstacle to love’s delights that I am content to do without; I have enough work to do right now taming the adolescent lover within, and convincing her to do her chores. lol

Impractical, wonderful, sometimes adolescent - more than enough.

Impractical, wonderful, sometimes adolescent – more than enough.

Today is a good day for love – and for making sure things get done in spite of loving. Today is a good day to recognize that while it may feel like ‘love is everything’ and ‘love is all I need’, truly love doesn’t do her share of the dishes, make the bed, or vacuum, and the practical things in life need practical attention. There are verbs involved. It’s also a good day to treat people well, from this loving place; love is a nice way to improve the world.