Archives for posts with tag: love

My coffee was some time ago. I’ll have a second, “soon”. I took a few minutes to run an early errand, before returning to work. Something like a “lunch break” I suppose, since the rest of my day is locked up with back to back meetings. I’m not bitching, I’m just observing that it is the state of things, today.

Hints of autumn begin to appear.

I had noticed, a day or two ago, that it seemed some leaves were beginning to yellow in the trees here and there. I wondered if it was the dry weather? This morning, hints of amber, orange, russet, and red are turning up, too. Fall? Already? It feels as if there was barely a summer, although the few days of summer were quite hot… but pandemic life being what it is, the days (and yes, seasons) blend together a bit.

I pulled the car over, while I was out, adjacent to a nearby farm property that presents a lovely view, itself, the barn and house a bit distant, with the more distant foothills fading into the morning fog. Pretty picture. I sat a moment looking out across the landscape, before continuing on my way. Time well-spent, frankly.

…When was the last time you just “took a minute” for some small thing, a view, a flower, a bit of music that brings back memories…? I found I was overdue for it, and enjoyed it immensely to take that time for me. 🙂

I thought of a lovely compliment paid to me last night by a friend who reads my work (thank you!), “I like your writing, and the everyday-ness of what you share…”. I’m still smiling. I mean, I’ve said before that I write for me, as much as for anyone, but it moves me to be appreciated for the very thing that sometimes causes me doubt; I write about what is so ordinary. 🙂 Thanks for reading. ❤

…So…fall creeping up on us already? Well, then. Seasons still change. 🙂

I take a moment to make a second coffee for myself, and for my Traveling Partner. We exchange gentle teasing words, enjoy some merriment. I make raisin toast – apparently a childhood favorite for both of us, and oddly, that’s new information for me (at least where he is concerned)! We’ve been together a decade, and we still learn new things about each other. It’s lovely. 🙂 We share coffee, enjoy our toast, and resume the forward momentum of the day. Chances are good that this gentle loving moment will be the one we remember… not the work we did later on. I’m just pointing that out – invest your precious limited lifetime wisely (it’s definitely not “about” the money).

Huh. Look at the time – already time to begin again. 🙂

Yesterday was hard. Very. The day before that was easy. A exceptional day. I didn’t write on either day. I don’t recall the reasons, now, but by the end of yesterday I was feeling very much like it was a massive self-care fail that I hadn’t been writing. The whole day was drenched in similar fail-sauce. Communication breakdowns. Loss of emotional balance. Taking shit personally. Mild frustration in one moment or another becoming, over the day, a sort of chronic feeling of being “over-extended”, with too much to do, too little time, and everyone wanting “a piece of me”, leaving nothing at all left of me for me. It was entirely subjective. It was shitty, as experiences go, and the result was an abyss of internal chaos that spilled out into real interactions with others – most especially my Traveling Partner.

Sometimes apologies don’t cut it. (A very unhelpful observation.)

Since the move, we’ve done a lot to improve how we’re set up in the house, how well things work, and continue to make repairs and small quality of life improvements. Since the AC leak and associated water damage have kicked me out of my studio temporarily, I feel even more displaced than I did from moving – while I’m trying to get settled in, and build new healthy routines that support my mental health and emotional wellness in a new place. Yesterday was clear evidence that I’m struggling with the “getting settled in” process. I’m finding very little traction as I work toward building new healthy routines for living my life; every fucking thing is constantly changing, even moment to moment. Mostly good changes. Still changes. I can’t seem to “get used to” anything. I’m overwhelmed and feeling the instability in my environment in a very visceral way.

“This too shall pass.” Still true. Doesn’t make this shit “easy”. (No one said it would be.)

The days are mostly good days. This life is a good life. I focus on the observation that I feel generally okay, and things are generally good… This experience is not about how things are, though, it is a very personal experience of how I feel, which may not even be tied to reality in any direct way. (Doesn’t serve to make the experience of those feelings any easier.)

The solitude I woke to this morning lasts very few minutes. My Traveling Partner wakes early. I make him coffee and return to my writing. A minute or two later he asks “What are you doing?” I reply “I’m writing.” His surly, mildly sarcastic reply, “wonderful”, is followed by “I’ll be somewhere else”. As he leaves the room, I feel my anxiety level rise in the background. Is my typing extra loud? Am I hitting the keys super hard, or very fast? Does my typing convey my emotions (or suggest an emotional experience I may or may not be having but is uncomfortable to listen to)? Yesterday was hard on both of us. I don’t resent his irritation, or take it personally. He’s having his own experience, too.

Damn I want my studio back. I can’t paint. My gaming computer is in there, too. I generally write in there; it’s also my “office”. My studio is a haven where I can experience and explore strong emotion without interfering with other people (and similarly they would not be interacting with me). I feel, subjectively, like I “can’t get a minute to myself” or “can’t hear myself think” or “can’t get any cognitive down time”. I’m not sure those things are objectively true at all. I suspect they are not. I do know the chaos is incredibly uncomfortable, and I’m not dealing with it well (or wasn’t, yesterday). In spite of decently restful sleep, I don’t feel “rested”.

…The pandemic isn’t helping. My Traveling Partner and I, aside from a small number of errands that get run by necessity, are together 24/7 and take “the lockdown” very seriously. I do enjoy his company. I also very much enjoy solitude. I feel a need for both. Without my studio to retreat to, I struggle to set healthy boundaries, and yesterday’s meltdown makes it clear this is not a sustainable set of conditions. Looking back on yesterday, I can see how the day started as a poor mix of me working from home, and his enjoyment of my presence prompting him to seek out more interaction with me, in spite of my (clearly inadequate) boundary setting and expectation setting about my work day. It could have been a lovely day, in spite of any of that, but at some point I lost my grip, and my perspective. “Everything” felt like “too much” at some point, and things spiraled out of control for me from there.

I can tell from my partner’s tone this morning that he is still feeling hurt by yesterday’s chaos and I feel that sad lingering concern that “I’ll never get any better than this”. Probably a common feeling for trauma survivors still struggling with their chaos and damage over time. I remind myself that context, perspective, and self-talk matter. I remind myself that my partner and I are indeed “separate people”, and to avoid fusing with his emotional experience, and seek instead to tend to my own, and care for myself more skillfully. Sitting down to write is part of that. Even in the dining room. Even when I don’t feel encouraged. Even when time is short.

…I remind myself how loved I am, and how much love I feel for this other human being who is now more or less forced to deal with me without a break…

I breathe, exhale, and relax. I let go of the persisting anxiety about how my partner is/may be feeling, what he is thinking, and remind myself that we are each having our own experience – that’s not only unavoidable, it’s okay. Nothing to fix. I focus on the day ahead. How do I get back on my path, make wise choices, care for myself well, and be the person I most want to be? What practices will matter most, today? I look at the time… and my half empty cup of coffee. I have time to take a walk before work. I check my work calendar. I’ll have a good opportunity to soak in the hot tub a bit later. Another errand to run. I look for a good time and put that on my calendar, too. What about meditation? Where will that fit in…? And household chores…? The work day? I start feeling the anxiety rise up, again. I breathe, exhale, relax… definitely need that walk.

…It’s time to begin again.

I slept like crap last night. I woke shortly after 1:00 am, and never really went back to sleep in any restful way. I wasn’t “tossing and turning” or frustrated with my sleeplessness. It was just there, and the night was what it was. I was noise sensitive once I woke, so the industrial gear in my studio drying out the water damage from the leak we found some days ago seemed more than usually noisy. Not helpful. Mysterious creaks and miscellaneous “new house” sounds I still haven’t figured out added to the “din” (in the quiet of night). I was light sensitive, too; every time I turned over, my awareness of some small indicator light or power button would re-wake me, seeming infernally bright in the darkness. Add to that my dumb “wearable” fitness device; every movement caused the silly thing to light up to “detect” whether I was awake, catching my eye, and pushing me further from sleep, again.

It just wasn’t a great night for sleeping, for me, I guess. I shrugged it off first thing, after trying to grab another hour of sleep before starting the work day. It didn’t work out very well. You already know how those thing go, right? Best sleep of the night in that last hour, and then… the alarm. LOL It is what it is. I hope I sleep well tonight.

My Traveling Partner spotted my fatigue early on. He’s been supremely considerate and gentle with me, nudging me in the direction of this or that thing I find myself on the edge of losing track of, as the day proceeds. Still managing to stay on track with his own projects, too. I take a moment to drink some water, and feel the love and gratitude that fills my heart when I see him step past the door to the deck, while he works outside in the sunshine. He’s been putting in the hours and the effort to help make our home together here really special. I often find myself wondering what other small thing I can do to show him how much I appreciate all of it, or to lift him up when he’s having a down moment or a frustrating challenge. I catch myself thinking of him, and I smile so hard my face hurts. It’s a nice problem to have.

My partner calls me out onto the deck to see how the new skirting on the hot tub looks. Wow. Project well-finished, and very little left to do. I feel loved and cared for. Appreciated. Understood. He… “gets me”. I take some pictures. Say some pleasant words. I’m still so tired… my thoughts are disorganized. Time to call it a day… wait…

…My work day ended moments ago, and I still feel groggy and stupid. lol

I’m sipping my second coffee on a sunny Sunday morning. My Traveling Partner is preparing to undertake some household projects, partly to improve our quality of life, and partly (I feel fairly certain) to satisfy his own creative joy. I feel content, and also a certain strange happy satisfaction to see his power tools ready for use, and hear the details of his plan for the project in front of him. It “feels like home”.

…It has taken so long to get “here”.

One perspective on “home”.

In this instance, not a geographical location at all, nor an address, maybe not even a point in time – it’s more than any of that. Feels good, though, and I take a moment to think about a conversation I had with my partner, when he moved into my wee duplex with me. We were talking about the potential need to move into a somewhat bigger place (pre-pandemic). I remember feeling distressed and agitated, and struggling to communicate what felt so “urgent” to me, personally; I did not want to move again unless it was into our own home. It felt non-negotiable after having to move 5 times in 10 years. The constant chaos involved in moving is unpleasant for me, and has longer-lasting emotional wellness impact than I manage comfortably. The frequent change in living space messes with my head, and results in a loss of implicit knowledge of my surroundings – not necessarily a critical detail for everyone, definitely important to me personally.

I sip my coffee, appreciating the warmth of it, on a cool summer morning. The dewy surfaces out on the deck evaporate in the sunshine. My workstation, still set up in the dining room, has a view out to the deck. I can see my partner out there measuring things, taking notes. I smile. This is, if not “everything”, is surely enough to feast on with a happy heart.

“This too shall pass”. Of course. Everything does, at some point. We don’t know when the clock will run out on our fun, or our happy adventures, or the warmth of a smile that is dear to us, any more than we know with any certainty when our miseries or hardships will end. Everything does, though. Everything. I remind myself to embrace this charming happy “now” unreservedly. Enjoy the journey. Embrace change. Invest in love.

…Good cup of coffee… nice morning…

…time to begin again. 🙂

 

…It’s gone now. The thought, I mean. Yep. Had a great idea, a moment of inspiration, it formed all at once, and I was quite taken by it. I didn’t take any notes – ideas this good “stick”, right? I’m not going to forget that over night…right? I totally didn’t, either. Remembered it when I woke, this morning. Gave it thought while I made coffee. Sat down at my desk, with my coffee and my idea, and… oh, hell. Wait…what was that idea, again? Well, for fucks’ sake. Damn it. Yep. It’s gone.

…I sip my coffee and wonder about the day ahead. Nothing else to do, really, but let it go, move on with things, and begin again.

This cup of coffee is very good. I sip it slowly, and marvel at the simple joy in one hot cup of this “magic elixir”. I find myself wondering if the lauded qualities of coffee to wake me, and sort me out, and start my day, are “real”… or placebo? Do they exist only because I imagine them? Would those qualities change if I knew, irrefutably, that they were imagined? What an amazing thing the mind is!

My mind wanders, it’s still quite early and I lack the discipline of later hours of the day. I think of friends, and I think of flowers. I take a moment recalling that my Traveling Partner trimmed the hedge and the front shrubbery yesterday morning. I smile, appreciating the work that went into making our home lovely. I feel loved.

My coffee nearly finished, I hear my Traveling Partner wake for the day, himself (maybe). We keep such different hours and have entirely new routines, than in our previous residence. It seems to indicate a certain purposeful joy in living our life together, but I don’t really know. (Perhaps I am imagining that, too? lol This very human brain likes everything to have a reason – some things just don’t buckle down in that reliable way, to be understood so easily. 🙂 ) I refrain from scampering into the other room to greet my partner; it’s too much to be so enthusiastic so early in the morning. 🙂 We both benefit from my patience, letting the moment unfold naturally. He’ll wake on his own clock, and sort himself out a bit, begin “missing” me – or just want coffee – and come to the door of my studio, put his head in and suggest I come hang out (or ask if I am going to). I’ll ask if he wants coffee… as if “no” is ever the reply I’d get, but giving him a choice, in spite of that. He’ll say “sure”, and we’ll begin the day. It is a pleasant ritual of shared life.

I think about sunny summer skies, and moments of leisure shared with someone I love.

It’s a new day. I lost the thread of whatever “good idea” I thought I’d had for this morning’s writing, but it’s nothing of consequence. There’s only this nearly-finished cup of coffee, this new day ahead of me, and this chance to begin again. 🙂