Archives for posts with tag: love

It is an unusual Monday. I woke feeling cross and dissatisfied, irritable, almost angry – and my entire being went looking for fight. Well, that’s the feeling of it, when the day started. I allowed myself the respect and consideration of really feeling it, acknowledging the presence of it in my experience, and an honest admission of awareness that emotions can be quite illusory, and transitory, and that the thinking I use to prop up those emotions can be deceptively well crafted to support continuation, rather than resolution. Yay me… I’m still feeling cross.

Roses blooming. My emotions are not relevant to their experience.

Roses blooming. My emotions are not relevant to their experience.

As I walked to work contemplating my feeling of discontent and dissatisfaction, it quietly became more honest, more vulnerable, and a more accurate expression of unmet needs and longing. Longing. (I am finding satisfaction in the word, as an expression of my experience this morning. ‘I woke with a sense of longing’.) I spent the walk to the office musing about longing.  I re-phrased a variety of recent expressions of discontent, dissatisfaction, loss, frustration, and moments that fell short of expectations, turning them into frank expressions of desire and longing. It is an interesting exercise in self-expression that takes garden-variety everyday bitching and renders commonplace moments of unhappiness into something more profound – and constructive.

From my perspective, longing doesn’t feel as ‘negative’ as dissatisfaction – or as hopeless. Longing feels poignant, deep, even necessary. Longing feels respectful of prior joys and experiences, and honors what is valued and loved. Longing reminds me of what I want and why I want it, without attacking someone dear to me as though they are an obstacle in obtaining my desires.  Having said that… I find myself puzzled by longing. Is it a ‘now’ thing? Is it a trap that combines past and present, but delivering nothing of value, merely holding me in thrall to desire?  I am still a student of life, of love…and there seems always to be more to learn.

One very nice thing about longing… my own longing for a thing, person, event, or experience is not an attack on someone else.  It is sometimes challenging [for me] to express ‘dissatisfaction’ or ‘discontent’ without seeming to attack someone else, as though they are the source of my emotional experience. ‘Longing’ seems bigger than that…with a presence in my experience that is clearly ‘of me’ and ‘for me’, part of who I am, and an expression of what I value and what I need.

There’s more to think about here, more questions to ask, more connections to make, more experiences to parse and correlate, more to understand and explore…more life to live…and time to write another day.

A footnote, of sorts: for so very long I experienced longing for a greenhouse of my own. I have such fond memories of the greenhouse attached to my grandmother’s house, so many years ago. I don’t believe I ever really said so, beyond the occasional remark about it being ‘a cool idea’ (not a very precise expression of longing). In a sense, this entire post is the period at the end of a ‘thank you’ to a man who adores me so much that he often knows my heart’s desire long before I learn the words to share it with him.  😀

Thank you, Love.

Thank you, Love.

…Oh, and I no longer feel cross; I am experiencing a sense of longing, and enjoying the satisfaction of understanding myself just a bit more than I did yesterday. 🙂

I woke gently this morning. It was lovely. I chilled awhile watching the fish in my aquarium waking up after the light came on and considered the challenge of photographing fish; they don’t exactly pose for pictures.  It hit me as I meditated on their experience of aquatic life as different from my experience of observing it; they are exquisitely ‘now’ sorts of creatures, to the point that even capturing one moment in a photograph is a challenge. I felt my breathing slow, and deepen, as I watched them. My morning was off to a great start, and I was feeling serene, calm and centered.

One of many not-quite-successful pictures of fish. lol

One of many not-quite-successful pictures of fish. lol

Then I moved to put my feet on the floor…pain. Headache pain. Arthritis pain. The other aches and pains that go with living life. Enough pain to create a wave of nausea as I stood. Damn it. I hurt and I ‘feel old’; stiff, inflexible, aching… coffee barely sounded good, but I was still in good spirits. The household was still sleeping. I made coffee and retreated to the solitary peace of more meditation, yoga, and calm chill time watching fish swim, until everyone else also woke and started the day. The quiet felt lovely. A counterpoint to the pain.

Before long it was clear that the pain is, for now, enough to make interacting with people difficult. I’m ‘not at my best’, and the conflict between what I want, what my partners want/need, and what I am up to doing don’t share much in common. I’m cross now, angry with myself for the weaknesses of being human, and for wanting. Frustrated that unmet needs of my own and theirs are piling up because I hurt. Being cross is better than the anger that preceded it. I want to laugh and feel good…what I actually feel like is crying and/or punching someone in the face.  😦  (I’m sorry – I know saying things like that can be distressing for others to hear, and I wouldn’t actually follow through on the ‘punching someone in the face’ piece.) I haven’t yet learned how else to express the particular feeling of frustration and simmering anger bubbling under the surface of hurting, so I fall back on hyperbole and the expression of emotion through words of violence. I’m at this strange point in my life where I recognize that such is inappropriate, but lack a clear alternative that feels like an adequate expression of my experience and feelings. Still working on me…I have a way to go yet.

I am invited by first one, then another partner to do something with them…I feel disappointed with myself that nothing sounds good, and that I feel like I am limited by the knowledge that I am at risk of poor behavior because I feel crappy. I am frustrated and dissatisfied with my self, and my experience. I took a couple of days off work for my birthday, and I’m angry that I am spending so much of that precious time in pain instead of – frankly – having a lot of sex and partying and having a good time in my garden, with my friends and partners, and doing stuff. The person I want most to punch in the face is me. How dare I ruin my planned good time with weakness?

I guess there’s nothing to do but move on with the day, doing my best. Maybe if I keep at it I can shrug off the incredible resentment and annoyance about the pain…

What a lovely weekend. I’m rather hopelessly infatuated with my new aquarium, and Saturday the first fish moved in to their new home. I’m delighted, awe-struck, and captivated. I’m distracted with joy. What an awesome birthday present, from my partners. Life. A tiny universe to nurture, care for, and observe; planned and assembled with great care and attention…

…in 3 days, I am 50.

I started this thinking I had more to say about it than that. I could talk about romance, relationship building, passion, love…or share some thoughts on things, or give credit where due, or perhaps say a long overdue thanks, or express a heartfelt sentiment, or…but here I sit, now. This lovely gentle now. This brilliant extraordinarily pleasant now. This one moment, right here. This one. I don’t know – suddenly I feel as if the one thing I want most to share here, which is now, isn’t something I can share in words, at all. The notion immediately robbed me of words. Maybe more words tomorrow? For me, for now, simply now will be enough.

Simple delight. Now. Enough.

Simple delight. Now. Enough.

I am feeling tired today, on a different level, as if my heart or perhaps my ‘soul’ is fatigued and needing rest. Hormones, probably. Or some other simple fundamental of being human, perhaps.  I slept well enough, although I woke once or twice briefly, and of course ahead of the alarm clock when my night ended.  I’m eating well and taking care of my nutritional needs.  I’m getting good regular exercise, and I’m not taking medications I don’t need, and those at the lowest effective dose of the most reliable Rx available at this time.  I’m staying with new mindfulness and meditation practices, and yoga, and attending to the needs of my spirit and my heart by ensuring I take time for people and things I love. 

Memories and daydreams mingle as I approach 50. "Sunset on the River" 1994 and 2011. Oil on Canvas

Memories and daydreams mingle as I approach 50.
“Sunset on the River” 1994 and 2011. Oil on Canvas

…and I’m tired.  I feel a bit like I am momentarily ‘paused’ to re-buffer… or something… When my mind is still and quiet I feel the unease of dissatisfaction more clearly.  I’m uncomfortable facing it.  What am I afraid of? Change? There’s so much of that of late I don’t see that it would be all that remarkable. lol.  Hormones. I will be so glad when the over-rationalized, highly resented, chemical driver of my experience ebbs like the tide.  I daydream that I will be suddenly ‘more sane’ and calmer… I hope not to be disappointed. LOL Maybe I am just a madwoman after all? I do wonder, sometimes…

The ‘first half’ is nearly at an end… a dear friend who heard about my new aquarium adventure remarked “one must adjust the temporal currents in ones own body and mind in order to commune with the fish.  it will be very beneficial to your journey, i believe.”  I’m sure she’s right on both points.  So, ever onward…50 staring me in the face, and when I stare back I see it pretty clearly some days.  Still…overall I’m pretty happy. Overall I’m pretty satisfied with most things. Overall I’m in good health, and reasonably rational.  It’s hard to bitch about feeling tired, or share some existential angst, knowing how many friends, family, and acquaintances are really struggling.  Harder still to deal with feeling dissatisfied about things that suddenly look awfully small when I consider the pain and turmoil in our global community. Am I finally becoming a grown up? lol.

7 days to 50…

It’s just 14 days to my 50th birthday, now. It feels ‘imminent’. Life is rich and filled with experiences, with connections, with opportunities, with emotion, and with growth. It’s quite wonderful…wonder filled…and the smallest things seem large, or important, or memorable. Things I might have overlooked quite easily at other points in my life. Small things stand out, meaningful, and cherished. I am learning appreciation…and gratitude. I am learning to recognize the affection of others, and to welcome it – even embracing a more genuine (and rather extroverted) experience of myself that finds me with a lingering smile and joy in my relationships with others.

Today, a lot of that joy in my experience is represented in a fun moment with friends – who happen, also, to be colleagues. A funny moment of solidarity and shared experience in #33 Starry Blue, which we are all wearing today. I do love glittery nail polish, and sharing the fun of it with friends is … fun, and sweet, and delightful, and… connected. 🙂

What are connections made of?

What are connections made of?

I used to shy away from connections…fearful…awkward…inept…confusing my own fears and insecurities with a dislike of ‘my fellow man’…confusing my love of safety in solitude with introversion, and running from what I didn’t understand about life and love and connecting, rather than exploring what frightened me so much.  I’m definitely not the woman I was at 14… or 33… am I ready to be the woman I am at 50?

There’s so much I am learning; I don’t know how to share most of it, or even how to determine whether sharing it is a thing that matters. Perhaps simply ‘being’ is enough? I know that I am grateful to have so many wonderful friends, and in spite of my doubts and hormones and the chaos and wreckage in my heart and my head, this is a wonderful life to share with them, and to enjoy, myself.

I wonder what the second half holds?