Archives for posts with tag: mindful love

I’m drinking strawberry infused water. It is cold – so cold – and vaguely sweet without being sticky. I find myself wondering why this hasn’t been “a thing” for far longer in my life? It’s pleasant, without being heavy, and I am enjoying (rather a lot) that it does not include any cucumber. Don’t get me wrong, I like cucumber just fine. Big fan of pickles, too. It’s just that, subjectively, I find the flavor of cucumber in water to be rather remarkably like very refreshing garden soil. Not really a flavor I’m seeking out by preference. lol

Now and then, on a break, or between tasks, I peek at Google Maps to see how far along his planned route my Traveling Partner has gotten. I smile every time; it feels like a connection. I already miss him, even though, on any given ordinary week day, we are not sharing this time, any way. I just know he won’t be there at the house, when I return home. I ache with the weight of yearning for his company, at the same time I eagerly look forward to cherished stillness. The feelings compete for my attention. I don’t make any effort to dismiss either one, or to diminish them, or to attempt to rationalize how one is more “right” or “true” than the other; they both exist in my experience of self, quite comfortably side by side. They are both true of who I am; I miss my partner when he is away, and I enjoy the luxury of the solitude when he is gone. My emotions are not my enemy, and I am not in any way less mentally capable for having the feelings I do. 🙂

…Still… I’m distracted. I’m thinking of him. Thinking of love. Thinking of the practicalities of life, at home, and in the world. I am waiting – for his return, for the quiet of a few solitary evenings at home, for the fulfillment and joy that both can bring. I’m also distracted, now and then, hoping that he is safe, and that his trip goes well, and brings him satisfaction and delight.

I suppose I could write more, or differently. This moment captivates me, drinking strawberry water, and watching the clock. Working. Waiting. Wistfully looking forward to morning coffee, tomorrow, then taken by surprise by a pang of something a bit like sadness, remembering this morning’s lovely moments over coffee together…and that coffee, tomorrow, will be quite entirely alone. I laugh, noticing I’ve finished off this water – and remind myself that I nearly always have my coffee quite entirely alone, in my studio, in the wee hours, while the world sleeps.

…I think I’ll refill this water bottle, and begin again. 😀

Well… I’m home, again. The car is unloaded. There is a tidy stack of belongings to one side of the living room that are not mine. There are bright lime green sticky notes here and there, on walls, on bookcases, on drawers, marking spaces that could be pleasingly and functionally re-purposed for the needs of another. Oh sure, this is a comfortable space for two, has been, really, all along – I just choose to live a solitary life, these days. Or… I had been so doing. And, although it is a comfortable space for two, it’s not really outfitted for cohabitation in any long-term way.

Change is coming. Actually, according to the stack of boxes and things, and the handy list of stuff I would ideally like to get done ahead of time, it’s already here. He’s already here… well… on his way. Not a visit. Not a vacation. Not “coming and going”. Not wandering, or mostly traveling; my Traveling Partner is coming home for some while. 🙂 I’m excited, like a teenager, nesting, doing chores, moving things from here to there. I’m also… giving my inner teenager a lot of shit over it, in the background, and a hearty helping of side-eye, when the excitement becomes surreal. This is not a daydream of playing house. This is real life. Real people. Baggage, challenges, aspirations, changes, love, and all. All of it. Who we are now. Who we want to be. The journey between those destinations.

…No map.

I’m glad I got home ahead of him. There feels like so much to do to make him welcome, to make room for him to truly feel fully at home, and moved into this shared space. (Holy shit – I gotta share my space. lol) Then, too, I look at things I just haven’t gotten done, ever, because… reasons. (Some fairly lame reasons, some utterly understandable – some both. One reason, just being real, is all the back and forth travel to spend time with my Traveling Partner, elsewhere!) He knows me so well. His affection is deep, abiding – and accepting of who I am, while also supporting my growth. There is so much I won’t have to ask for help with, the help will be there. 🙂 It’s like another Giftmas, every time I come home to something nice he’s done to help out. He fixes things. He has an exceptional sense of placement that suits my aesthetic. He hangs paintings with skill and an eye for theme and beauty. He notices things that I don’t always spot, and takes care of what I can’t so easily do. It’s reciprocal; I help him with things that are “more in my area”, whether personally or professionally. That matters. We count on each other – and we comfortably can. I laugh when I realize that there are no surprises here, and that he is coming home to my familiar presence, because he wants to be here, with me, as I am. I relax. It feels warm and supportive and intimate, even from afar. Even before I hear his key in the lock on the front door, in some future moment, soon. There is a sense of eagerness, and belonging. I have missed him greatly, however much I enjoy living alone.

I hop up from my writing to add another sticky note for him to find, “this bookcase is entirely for your use”, it says. I sit down smiling. There is more to do, and I feel grateful to have time to get some of it done in advance, so that I’m not “underfoot” while he is trying to get settled in; a drawer in the dresser that I plan to relinquish, night stands to swap because he likes “the other side of the bed”. I frowned into the refrigerator earlier; I need to grocery shop, too. I’ve been living a bit like a bachelor, a bit more than I’d really like to. There is positive momentum in this change for both of us.

Sure, sure, eventually there will be some moment of miscommunication, hurt feelings, or anger, and we’ll deal with that the way we do – explicitly and affectionately, sometimes with clenched jaws, and terse, deliberate, careful communication, sometimes with tears – from a place of love, wanting only the best of, and for, each other, and always building this partnership. Fearless commitment to loving. Expectation-setting, clarifying questions, deep conversations, laughter – so much to add to my day-to-day experience, and I am so hungry for it, sitting here thinking it over.

I wasn’t in a good place for cohabitation 4 years ago. Am I now? Moving into my own place made so much sense, then… What about now?

I look out the window of my studio. It looks out onto the front stoop, and at the door into the garage. His space. Oh sure, still shared, but… shared like my studio is shared. It sort of has to be, small place, but, still my studio. Still his maker-space/workshop/whatever he makes of it, despite any wee bit of shared purpose in some fashion or another. (And yes, we do things like knock, check before we barge in, make sure we’re aware whether the other is in the throes of some creative endeavor that would suffer for being interrupted. Respect, reciprocity, consideration – they’re all part of my Big 5 relationship values, values that he both respects and shares. Boundaries set are boundaries respected, in this house.) I smile looking at that door. I earnestly want to put a sticky note on it, although it is not at all necessary… I do it anyway. My smile deepens with my feeling of contentment.

It seems a lovely way to begin again. 🙂

I woke up at 4:00 am. I didn’t need to. It was even my thought to simply return to bed after getting up to pee and getting a drink of water… but that turned into feeling a bit warm, and standing in the cool open patio doorway for a few minutes, which became turning on the aquarium light, which became checking my phone for messages “just real quick”, which became a question about whether it was worthwhile to just stay up at that point… and… unsurprisingly, I stayed up. I attempted to negotiate with the inevitability of it by staying in my most comfy clothes… by not turning on the grinder for hot coffee and just grabbing a can of cold brew… by not turning on more media… none of any of that actually changes the circumstances at this point. I got up at 4:00 am on a fucking Sunday morning on which I was very much looking forward to sleeping in… and I feel alert and rested. lol

It seems a good morning to practice “non-attachment”. In this case, directing that practice toward my “plan” for the day, which is already utterly irrelevant, since no single element of any of the original planning for this day has remained untouched by events and decision-making that followed that planning. lol Fuck it. Free fall through the day? Thanks, I shall. 🙂 I’m getting better at enjoying the planning without remaining attached to the plan. It’s a powerful approach. It still takes quite a bit of practice. I have no idea what the day holds, though, so getting attached to the outcome would just build a foundation for disappointment, frustration, and drama, and I frankly don’t really value any of that, so… Non-attachment, then? Yep. Indeed.

The weekend with my Traveling Partner has been splendid. Whether he’ll be around today, also, remains an unknown; we both have work this week. If it were me, I’d be on the road headed back before daylight, today, to give myself time to “get settled” and “prepare for the week”. We’re different people. Our approach to life is quite individual. Instead of getting wound up with wondering, I let that go, too. It doesn’t actually matter much; if he’s here, I’ll enjoy his presence. Once he goes, he won’t be here to enjoy. Either way, I’ll roll with it. 🙂

I smile and sip my very early morning coffee. Soon enough, I can make choices that affect the day ahead. Soon enough, really any time I choose, I can begin again. 🙂

What a weird day yesterday was. The work day was… shitty. It just was. It’s a thing, it happens. It’s over, and behind me, and today is a new one all its own. We’ll see how this one goes. 🙂 It can’t possibly be as strange, that’s for sure.

The evening was a delightful counterpoint to the work day; no stress, no drama, just two people who love each other, spending time together. It was warm and joyful, and the connection was intimate, fully analog, and entirely in real life. It was sweet. No idea how long my Traveling Partner may stay… he’s thoroughly welcome. I don’t bother to ask what his plan is. He shares details as they occur to him. There’s no point being literal about those words – they often do not become actual experiences, for either of us. He will when he does. lol I am at least able to chuckle about that and give him room to be who he is. 🙂 He does the same, generally, for me.

I sip my coffee. I contemplate the day ahead in the context of being so well-loved. It changes the way I see my experience, to see it in loving context. It’s a positive change that tends to push the negative emotions into the background, and pushes the purposefulness of my endeavors into the foreground, relevant, immediate, and worthy. My results vary. It’s less a matter of “what doesn’t kill me, makes me stronger” and more a matter of “are you kidding me with this shit? have a little perspective” – and that’s enough to nudge me back onto a path of assuming positive intent, and generally enjoying my experience. I like contentment. Ya gotta run pretty fucking fast to “chase happiness” – contentment will let you catch up, no problem, and walk aways with you. 😉 Choose wisely.

I look at the time. It’s already time to begin again. 🙂

Well, the drive down was coffee all the way, and started in the wee hours before dawn. Easy drive. Fun. Effortless. After-the-fact it seems featureless and unremarkable, such that I don’t specifically remember any specific detail besides stopping for coffee. lol I left “on time” and arrived safely. I was greeted warmly with love, and friendship.

The drive back, this morning, definitely coffee-themed. I pro-actively picked up a can of cold brew so I’d have that effortless coffee moment first thing, and waited until I was in the car to pop the top on it, to avoid waking my Traveling Partner. I stopped twice for more coffee, and to stand in the dawn of a new day, feeling the chill breeze that hinted at autumn.

I got on the road this morning with a heart filled to overflowing with pure love and delight, feeling wrapped in My partner’s high regard, and nurtured by his enduring affection. He’s a good partner; loving, kind, considerate, helpful, experienced, competent, forward-thinking, and exciting to be with. I chose well… this time. lol This is my only actually good long-term relationship, honestly (although, to be fair, I only have 4, maybe 5, to reflect on). I don’t kick myself about it; choosing partners, lovers, and friends is a complicated matter, and most of us don’t develop real skills in that area until later in life. If we’re fortunate, we nonetheless happen upon friends, lovers, and partners in the context of our circumstances, and things work out. We are social creatures. I’m sure we could do better, and I wonder why we don’t teach emotional intimacy, relationship-building, and healthy communication practices, in elementary school, as I sip my coffee.

I know some things that don’t work. One of those is money. It just doesn’t work to attempt to buy someone’s affection, even if they accept payment. 🙂 That’s not how love works. It’s not how loyalty works. It’s not how any sort of affection or friendship works. I don’t actually understand how anyone might think it would. I’ve seen it attempted any number of times by people with more money than qualities on which to build love or friendship. Painful. Awkward. Unsatisfying. I can’t help wonder why it doesn’t seem, just on a practical basis, more cost-effective to be a better human being… you know… just likable, considerate, kind, funny, nurturing… some assortment of the sorts of things that draw people in, right? lol It’s not effortless, does take work and practice… and so many of us seem utterly disposed to avoiding any sort of self-work whatsoever. Yeah… there are verbs involved. Results will vary. It’s necessary to practice, to fail, to reflect on our missteps, to begin again… oh… ever so many times. Some people make other choices, and experience other outcomes. It is what it is.

My affection is not for sale. Neither is my respect. My consideration and basic kindness is free, and generously given – as much as I can spread it around, I try to, and there is no minimum qualification for it. The world needs more basic kindness, and a lot more consideration, and no amount of money eases the lack of it.

Tending the flowers in the garden of my heart.

I sip my coffee, and think about love. Being loved feels amazing! Being able to love well feels pretty fantastic, too. These things literally can not be purchased. If you know for certain that these are things you want to feel, and you also know that it will require a lot of work and self-awareness, self-reflection, and willingness to grow, change, and do some verbs – put in the work – would you do it? 

Are you ready to begin?

…What could possibly matter more than love and loving? 🙂