Archives for posts with tag: mindfulness

I could as easily ask ‘what time is love?‘ – same answer: at the tone the time will be…’now’. It’s always ‘now’, actually, and never any other moment…unless, I suppose, we count the possibility of time travel, or perhaps the influence of huge quantities of certain hallucinogens. So… sure, okay, a few things may shake the unavoidable ‘now’…but…generally…’now’ is the time. Here we are. This is it. Whatever it is…it is.  This morning, ‘now’ came early – at 3:17 am, actually. I turned off the alarm once it was clear I was definitely entirely awake, and headed for the shower.

It’s still ‘now’. A shower, yoga, meditation and preparing coffee…and although it is later, it remains very much ‘now’. I can look ahead…it’s still simply ‘now’. I can look back…still, here I am, fixed firmly in the ‘now’ moment. Wherever I turn, ‘now’ is what I really have to work with. It’s not that the future is unaffected by ‘now’ – it is most definitely affected by ‘now’; every choice I make ripples through my future. Even the past is altered by ‘now’; my perspective changes with experience, with new information, with the passage of time itself. Still, however busy life is, all I have to work with, to enjoy, and to live is ‘now’.

Taking a few moments to consider an idea.

Taking a few moments to consider an idea.

What time is it? Right now it’s coffee time. My coffee this morning is quite dreadful. I am considering pouring it out and making a fresh cup. ‘Now’ matters that much; if I am not present in the moment, my actions may not be sufficiently relevant to my needs, and I may be unaware even of what my needs in the moment actually are. Me, personally, at 4:43 am…I need coffee, and frankly, my preference is that it be, if not exceptional, at least quite good. So…now I am going to make a fresh cup of coffee because this one… yeah… it sucks. It’s definitely important to pay attention while making coffee if using something that requires an artful touch, and some precision, as with a pour over. “Paying attention” is one way to describe mindfulness.

Second cup, no second thoughts – and it is still very much ‘now’. That’s how it tends to be – ‘now’. What will I do with the moment? I rarely pause to consider it, I simply do and be much of the time, and I don’t make that observation with any hint of criticism. I find life is to be lived. I strive to live well, and mindfully, and mostly doing so is more pleasant than not, and tends to result in a certain sense of worthiness to the entire endeavor – which seems worth having, and reason enough to work at it attentively, investing in good self-care practices, and learning to cope compassionately with my injury and my damage. ‘Now’ has become a pretty big deal.

Here’s something noteworthy about ‘now’, though – it’s easily wasted. It can slip away in an instant and become hours that have passed me by without action, without effort, without any investment of will and intent, and without significant result, or activity worthy of later recollection (I’m looking at you, television!). I find that almost any moment spent mindfully aware, even the painful ones, and yes, even the ones spent in stillness, meditating or watching clouds drift by, is a moment well spent. I remember more when I am awake, aware, and present. I have the sense that I am doing or achieving more, regardless how much ‘got done’. Life feels lived – as though the noun itself comes alive and gets all verb-y straight away – when I approach it mindfully, aware of my choices, deliberate in my actions. Time itself passes more slowly – and ‘now’ becomes of even greater value, extended, prolonged, and significant.

There’s nothing actually ‘easy’ about mindfulness. It’s also not actually ‘difficult’. It isn’t expensive to pursue it, and it requires no costly memberships or equipment. It need not be attached in any way to profit-generating activities, although it is clearly finding its cultural moment, and along the way many people are finding ways to market mindfulness or profit from it. The current popularity of mindfulness as a word, as a concept, and as an endeavor don’t make it any more likely that people will actually practice the needed practices to become more mindful – though many will say that they will, or do, or are. I don’t worry much about any of that, although I am sometimes frustrated to read articles that seem critical of practices I find have such value, myself. I worry, sometimes, that people innocent of the marketing bullshit, the hype, and the inevitable disappointment of people who expected it to be ‘easy’ or to ‘fix everything’ will result in someone who really needs what mindfulness has to offer not finding their way to it – that was my own experience. I didn’t get ‘here’ sooner; I was distracted by other people losing their way, being discouraged, and because I was discouraged, myself, the first time I was exposed to meditation – there were verbs involved, and more than one sort of practice, and… and… and… it’s not easy! (“Isn’t there some prescription, or…?”)

Mindfulness practices can be very simple and very basic. My own favorite meditation is not any sort of elaborate guided meditation with a soothing voice, lovely visual image, or lofty conceptualization – it isn’t necessary that it be such, and those don’t ‘work for me’ in the sense that although they may be soothing and pleasant, what I need myself is to become very centered, present, and calm within myself. I rely on meditation to keep me from standing on the precipice, to pull me back from the brink of disaster, to clean up the chaos and damage; the only world I am looking to change with any urgency is the world within. My own favorite meditation is simply to focus on my breath, to remain in this ‘now’ moment until I achieve stillness and inner calm. Yes. I have to keep at it. Yes. My mind wanders. Yes. I am sometimes distracted by physical discomfort, noise, stray thoughts, having to pee, and suddenly remembering other things that arise in my recollection attached to a sense of urgency. There’s no rush, no pressure, no report card, no internal criticism; I just keep at it until I do find that inner stillness. If’ I’m uncomfortable, I adjust – and begin again. If I am distracted, I take another breath, and begin again. If I have to pee, I take care of that biological need and begin again. If I remember something important that has been forgotten, I take a note and begin again (and often meditate with a notepad very near at hand for that reason). It’s called a practice for a reason – and there are most assuredly verbs involved.

“Does mindfulness work?” is a question with similar value as “what time is it?” – It really depends on what you are trying to find out. I find mindfulness practices very effective, myself, but the outcome is entirely dependent on my actions, my own investment in practicing the practice, and how well-chosen the practice is for my needs. If I were to discontinue the practice of meditation, would meditation itself be less effective because I stopped practicing it? Um…no. I might be less effective – but it would be a choice I make for myself, not a failure of meditation as a tool or practice.

The Stillness Within

“The Stillness Within” 8″ x 10″ acrylic on canvas w/glow 2014

The time is ‘now’. If one practice has failed, try another. If the ‘failure’ is simply a lack of actual practice, easier still – begin again. There are verbs involved, and there is all the ‘now’ in the world to use them. 🙂

 

Yesterday (truthfully, most days) I was early everywhere I needed to be. This was both practical and possible because I had arranged with my traveling partner to borrow his car for the day. Handy. I arrived on the east side of town about an hour before my appointment time, got a coffee from a nearby boutique cafe with a working class theme – one I’d never been to before, and don’t expect will still be there the next time I am in that neighborhood.  Making a small business thrive is hard enough when it is any sort besides a cafe, in a city where cafes are on literally every corner – and a third of them are Starbucks. It’s a tough business. The coffee was good – lavender infused iced coffee with whipped cream – and a nice treat.

Even buying a cup of coffee, I had nearly an hour before my appointment. I had once lived in this neighborhood, and a favorite small park was right down the street from my appointment. Walking those lovely paths in the quite of early morning, uncrowded, undisturbed, sounded like a lovely accompaniment to my coffee. I hadn’t been to this particular park in quite a lot of years, although I’d only left the neighborhood some 5 years ago; I had at some point gained so much weight on the drugs the VA was giving me that walking the distance to the park (less than a mile) was too hard for me. I figure the last time I walked the paths of this lovely park was sometime in… 2004? Or…possibly I’ve simply forgotten other visits.

A small park, but no shortage of grandeur.

A small park, but no shortage of grandeur. The entry way has a big view.

The Crystal Springs Rhododendron Garden has history. It is a common visitor destination, particularly on Mother’s Day – so of course, I didn’t make a practice of going then. In fact, my most common time to visit this park was by moonlight – sneaking over or under the fence to get into the park after dark. In the summer it was especially nice – it felt very safe, and the air less stifling than in my tiny second floor apartment with no a/c, and the windows placed such that breezes just didn’t make it into the hot still rooms. I would often get into the park, and pull off my confining summer dress and sandals and stroll the well-maintained paths quite naked by moonlight. Those were some of the loveliest moments ever. It struck me strangely yesterday that it had been so long since I even held the recollection of these treasured moments in my consciousness…why had I let them go?

Lacking the time to explore at greater length, I paused frequently to breath the fresh air, and listen to the sounds of the trees and birds and breezes all around me.

Lacking the time to explore at greater length, I paused frequently to breathe the fresh air, and listen to the sounds of the trees and birds and breezes all around me.

The dogwoods are still flowering - they remind me of my childhood home.

The dogwoods are still flowering – they remind me of my childhood home.

I step to an edge to experience the dizzying view to the water below, from a path high above the creek.

I step to an edge to experience the dizzying view to the water below, from a path high above the creek.

I sit and meditate for a time, in a favorite spot. On a moonlit night, the silvery moonlight fills this place, and the only sound is the waterfall.

I sit and meditate for a time, in a favorite spot. On a moonlit night, the silvery moonlight fills this place, and the only sound is the waterfall.

There are little waterfalls here and there all through the park.

There are little waterfalls here and there all through the park.

This is my favorite among the waterfalls.

This is my favorite among the waterfalls. I linger awhile.

There are no rhododendrons or azaleas blooming this time of year, but there is no shortage of flowers.

There are no rhododendrons or azaleas blooming this time of year, but there is no shortage of flowers.

And there is no shortage of picturesque views.

And there is no shortage of picturesque views.

It has rained, and everything is covered with tiny drops of water, and the air smells fresh.

It has rained, and everything is covered with tiny drops of water, and the air smells fresh.

It is a lovely place to spend an hour on a Wednesday morning.

It is a lovely place to spend an hour on a Wednesday morning.

The paths follow the banks of creek, stream, and lake; eventually I am n noticed by the ducks.

The paths follow the banks of creek, stream, and lake; eventually I am n noticed by the ducks.

The ducks here are rather tame, and unharassed; they come seeking treats.

The ducks here are rather tame, and unharassed; they come seeking treats.

They invite their friends.

They invite their friends.

There are lovely moments for perspective...

There are lovely moments for perspective…

...from one point of view or another.

…from one point of view or another.

And still more flowers.

And still more flowers.

At some point they boarded up one favored way into the park at night... it would not longer be so easy to stroll here in the moonlight.

At some point they boarded up one favored way into the park at night… it would not longer be so easy to stroll here in the moonlight.

It is a lovely place...but eventually my path takes me to the exit, and onward with the day.

It is a lovely place…but eventually my path takes me to the exit, and onward with the day.

It can be so easy to look back on years of hardship and struggling, and overlook the wonders, the delights, the precious moments that I did enjoy – they are locked in this rather poorly maintained file system I call my memory. There are some lovely moments tangled up in here, sometimes lost, sometimes found. I enjoyed visiting this one – it is precious to me. There are few recollections of life well-lived that beat walking naked in the moonlight on hot summer nights along well-maintained paths among the trees and flowers, feeling the breezes, catching the delightful scents of flowers on the breeze… fearless, relaxed, and if not ‘happy’ – at least happy enough to enjoy living that moment. It is too easy to overlook the good moments mixed in with the difficult times; I cherish the unexpected opportunity to reset my thinking on that era of my life so simply, and so delightfully. It wasn’t all bad – there was a lot of fun, plenty of good times, and some lovely memories were made. Isn’t that what so often traps people in a poorly chosen situation; it isn’t all bad….? We hang on to what works, what feels good, what is ‘good enough’ and forget to take care of ourselves with greater care than settling for what we’ve got, even though we’re merely surviving it. Still…once I take the steps to make better decisions, to take care of me, to live well and to thrive – isn’t it also important to cherish what worked, in spite of what didn’t? 🙂

Today is a good day to appreciate life’s joys and delights; they are rare enough as it is, and I don’t serve myself well to overlook them because they were part of a challenging time in my life. Today is a good day to smile at the pleasures offered by happenstance – and to take the opportunity to enjoy myself that is offered. Today is a good day for perspective, and to be mindful that “now” is the moment I am in, always, but there have been others that have been worth savoring in life, and it is never too late to enjoy a memory. 🙂

This is a simple good morning, right here. With some effort, I come up with a couple really first-rate topics on which I could be writing.  I sip my coffee, and make a note elsewhere. I add them to the running list of potential topics for other days. (While each new idea this morning is certainly worthy of my attention at some point, they do not hold my attention this morning.)

I contentedly sip my coffee without concern over waking up later than usual, or falling asleep earlier than usual last night. It’s not cause for panic, and unlike nights that are short on sleep, the deviation from my routine is likely healthy rather than potentially harmful – I probably needed the rest. Yesterday was a hot day, and I walked to and from work, and did so also over my lunch break. I enjoyed somewhat longer routes, too, beating my loose goal of exceeding 5 miles a day of walking. I did enough yoga, before and after work, to ease stiff joints – and enough to ‘get some exercise’, too. Tired at the end of the day seems reasonable. I didn’t even ‘over sleep’ my alarm; I woke and reset it for another half an hour of sleep. (There are some nice advantages to getting up so early each day.) There’s no stress over any of this… only coffee.

Enough.

Enough.

I sip the fragrant dark roast and wonder just a bit at how obviously it is ‘not my favorite’. Having moved into my own place, and finally feeling really ‘settled in’, I am finding moments of surprise that my taste has changed, or that I didn’t understand some detail about myself better. I did not expect that there truly would be a ‘getting to know me’ stage in all this – as with building any new relationship. Who is this woman in the mirror? When did she stop preferring the very darkest roasted coffee? When did she start being okay with sleeping in now and then – even on a work day?! I rub my eyes sleepily, and continue to sip my coffee – daydreaming about the Brazilian coffee I had just the other day. (It was a small sample, only, and it is gone – utterly enjoyed to the finish.) Is that the coffee I most enjoy? What else about me is not who I expected to find on the other side of the mirror?

Who am I “really“?  What does that question mean? In a world so driven to perform, to compete, to ‘measure up’, to achieve, to present an ideal image – I guess I am not surprised to find that in a safe, calm space, characterized by day-to-day contentment, I am able to explore details of who I am – and find surprises. Too much precious time is spent ‘selling ourselves’ to the world, or trying to be something someone else wants. Giving up on that is a start, but apparently like any journey… simply beginning down the path of authenticity is just a start to a much more involved process. I spend enough time with myself, in gentle solitude, that I can hear the softest voice within expressing those preferences that have been beat down, held down, and twisted for far too long.

I actually do like my coffee black, most of the time. It is my preference. Adding half and half and something sweet is nice for a treat now and then, but it isn’t my day-to-day preference at all. I didn’t know that until I moved into this space, alone with my coffee and my choices. Where espresso beverages are concerned, a simple vanilla latte is my favorite – and I like it best made by my traveling partner (his are without question the very best lattes for texture, temperature, mouth feel, and given the right beans, for flavor as well) – but lattes are a treat. Calorie laden and creamy, they are very much a dessert sort of thing, for me.

There is a lot to learn about myself. I’m living in an environment where the “I” in “who I am” really stands out – good qualities and those less good as well. I am learning how much of my day-to-day experience of the past has been compromised to better suit other people over the years. I lost my way here and there, and wandered off a path I didn’t know I was following. I allowed myself to cave to pressure to conform, to change, to be something other than the creature I am…and didn’t follow-up with me, to find out who this person is, resting within this fragile vessel, and to make sure her needs are met, too. There’s joy in getting to know me, in becoming comfortable with myself, even in finding out that I prefer my tuna casserole with broccoli instead of peas, and that I like the mushroom sauce to be made from scratch using crimini mushrooms…and that I like to top it with fried onions. Those things are not ‘important’ taken one by one… but if I spend my lifetime doing things in the fashion that most suits others, when do I take time for me? At what point must I acknowledge that I don’t know me, anymore, and question who the hell those others think they are involved with, in the first place? (Cuz… it may not be me.)

I will, thanks. :-)

I will, thanks. 🙂

It’s a quiet morning over my coffee, content to listen to morning become day through the open patio door, and content to feel the soft breezes cooling the apartment. Contentment is quite a lovely feeling. Today is a good day for contentment, and a good day to know myself.

I slept well and deeply, although I didn’t sleep through the night. I woke for a time, around 1:00 am, and although I was not anxious or in a lot of pain it was clear I was not going back to sleep easily. I did some yoga, meditated, and read a chapter of a favorite book – sleep was not far away at that point. I slept so well, actually, that I overslept my loose plan to take an early morning hike. Since there’s nothing I want or need to escape from, and no necessity to aggressively pursue exercise outside the home, and plenty to do (and to entertain me) right here, I am content with the spontaneous change of plans brought on by sleeping in.

There is enough structure and symmetry in life, there is no need to impose more.

There is enough structure and symmetry in life, there is no need to impose more.

I have the day ahead of me, to think, to be, to write, to do… it doesn’t seem necessary, today, to impose more structure on myself; I have a list of things that I’d like to get done, and I will likely do a great many of them today. It’s a good day for verbs. Some of the tasks on my list are utterly mundane day-to-day things like doing the dishes, cleaning the bathroom, or watering the garden. Other tasks on my list are a combination of tedium and delight that are both time-consuming, and requiring great care and attentiveness, like sorting and archiving my digital images, and updating my art archives with photos of more recent work. Some of the tasks on my list are creative endeavors, such as working on my manuscript, writing poetry, writing in my journal, or painting. Others are social endeavors; I have a long list of people I mean to write letters to.

Enough.

Enough.

 

I have not committed to any specific plan of action for now. I am simply enjoying my coffee. It is a remarkable coffee, too. Brazil Nossa Senhora Fatima – it has amazing aroma and flavor. I find myself wondering why I have explored so few Brazilian coffees in the past. I will no doubt have another cup or two; it is Saturday, and if I choose to ruin the upcoming night’s sleep with too much coffee, it is the one night of the week I can easily do so with few consequences. 🙂

I face the morning aware that I have recently had a number of significant moments that resulted in recognition that ‘this would be a good topic for a blog post’…and failing to write them down along the way, they are lost to me, for now. My memory doesn’t work as well as it might (I make jokes about my corrupted file system), and I know that when I don’t make notes on an idea for writing, or for painting, I am at risk of losing it altogether, and quite quickly. I no longer treat myself poorly over it – there is no ill intent, just this TBI, and being cruel to myself over my limitations has not done anything to ease the limitations themselves, in the past. It was a poor practice, and I have given it up.

The cool morning air pours in through the open patio door. Dawn has become daylight, and the sunlight on the lawn beyond my patio holds my attention for a time. I lose track of the moment, gazing out the window, listening to the aquarium trickling in the background. I wonder, after time passes, is this another sort of meditation, this rapt attentive gaze into the beyond, lacking in active content, simply breathing and seeing…or am I ‘stuck’ on some ‘damaged sector’ of my metaphoric hard drive? My mind wanders again, from thinking on that question, to some other notion. I realize I have been sitting quietly, holding my warm coffee cup in my hand, for some considerable time now. 37 minutes. Is it wasted time – or does this lovely stillness, content, aware, and calm, nurture some part of me that doesn’t get the attention it needs day-to-day in the fuss and bother of busy 21st century life?

Eye-catching bits of morning often catch my eye - is it a distraction, or is it the point of living?

Eye-catching bits of morning often catch my eye – is it a distraction, or is awareness the point of living?

Taking time for me takes many forms. Today is a good day for it – pretty nearly every day is, actually. Today is a good day to enjoy taking care of me, and applying verbs to my to do list, putting my effort where it pleases me most, and meets my needs over time. I build this beautiful life with my choices, and my actions. Today I happily do so with a grin and a challenge – to do so without the need to acquire more, or go elsewhere; I have what I need right here at home. That’s enough.

 

I slept well last night. I slept in this morning. I woke sufficiently early to enjoy the dawn. The kitchen is filled with the aroma of freshly ground coffee. The overcast sky promises cooler weather. The cool soft morning air fills the apartment by way of the open patio door. The morning is quiet, even serene.

Cooler weather and lovely overcast skies often come at a cost for me, and this morning this is the case; my arthritis pain is significantly worse after many days of not bothering me much at all. I shrug it off – at some points quite literally for the relief that movement gives – and wait on the kettle to put coffee nearer to ‘now’.

I look around my home contentedly, and without dissatisfaction, although it is Saturday following a week interrupted with stress; there are chores to do this morning. There generally are on Saturday morning, and I don’t offer myself any criticism that one or two things I could have done Wednesday or Thursday wait for me today. Why would I? My home is lovely and well-kept, and in any case, the rules are my own, the standards are mine, and the outcome need please and satisfy only me. I am enjoying this moment.

You see, it’s not a competition – until or unless I choose to make it one, of course. I don’t. I dislike competition [in life] rather a lot. I enjoy ‘game-ification’, and I don’t mind working to measure up to the standard I have set for myself, but frankly – there is no one else I compete with for my success, my sense of self, or my enjoyment of my experience. You can’t have what is mine [me] – and I can’t have what is yours [you] – on a level beyond mercantile goods, destination vacations, just the right schools or just the right neighborhoods; we are each having our own experience, and all the purchasing power in the world can’t change who we are. Of course, you could choose differently. You could choose to focus on what someone else has, what they enjoy, what their life looks like from an outside perspective, and you could make all your effort focused on getting there, being that, and doing those things. Let me know how it turns out? I haven’t seen any remarkable success stories on that front, mostly tales of frustration, discontent, disconnection and woe, instead. I have found that when I strive to be something or someone I am not, the less easily able I am to enjoy who I actually am – and the less easily able I am to grow or change. I consider my choice to fully embrace authenticity quite fearlessly to have been one of the most profoundly positive things I have ever done for myself.

Having said that I don’t find life to be a competition, myself, I admit that this is based on the choices I make, and what I enjoy in life personally. Perhaps you enjoy competition? I won’t [can’t] take that from you – but I won’t be keeping score with you, or making any effort to participate or ‘keep up’. I don’t invest in relationships in which it becomes clear the other person is ‘competing with me’, generally. I dislike it when people undermine someone else’s experience in order to get ahead, themselves, and don’t favor those sorts of people for relationships, either. It comes up a lot out in the world. Is your house bigger? (Probably – this place is small. And enough for me.) Do you make more money? (A lot of people do, it’s really not the focus of my goal-setting or effort, nor do I measure my own success in dollars.) Are you leaner, stronger, fitter, or more muscular? (I bet you’ve worked hard to get there! I’ve worked hard to get where I am, too. There are verbs involved, regardless of the goal.) Are you famous, expert, or highly sought for your opinion, or your charm? (Is that filling when  you are hungry? Does it secure better sleep for you at night? Are you well-loved and secure in the companionship of those you love?) I guess my point is that there is always someone with more, someone with less, and those quantities are not truly relevant to living well and being a skilled and loving human being.

Have I drifted off topic? I was thinking about housework on a Saturday morning. Ah! I was thinking about my Granny being, perhaps, appalled that there is hair in my hair brush, or that my bed is not yet made. I am thinking about my first husband as I notice that vacuuming is a thing, and that today is a good day to do some. I glance at the kitchen and recall other kitchens, in other conditions. For a moment, my thoughts turn to laundry. My wee home is quite tidy, but so small that any disarray whatever is very obvious – and I’m okay with a bit of disarray before dawn on a Saturday morning as I sip my coffee; there is no rush, and this is not a competition. There is literally, quite definitely, no competition at all – this is my home, these are my rules, this is my way. After coffee, chores – it’s a lovely Saturday morning and that’s enough.

I grin at myself thinking back to other circumstances, and being annoyed at getting sucked into the ‘housework rodeo’ because someone would be coming over; it is the antithesis of ‘being myself’ to radically change my environment to impress someone, or to measure up to my assumptions about their expectations. I can’t imagine any of my friends would be so rude as to come over to visit and criticize my housekeeping – it’d be the last time they were invited in and given a chance to do so. I feel pretty much the same about family – and every bit as willing to be very frank and to say out loud “how dare you be so rude and ungracious – get out.” lol Even my late grandmother’s spotless home filled with antiques from all around the globe lingering in my memory does not fill me with the drive needed to compete with her by cleaning my home to meet her expectations – and…um…why would anyone else’s expectations of my home be relevant to my own experience at all? Just saying.

More than the housework, the stacks of paintings not yet hung, and not yet stored, cause me some concern; I hesitate to paint because they are so very much at risk of damage stacked here and there, out in the open. If I lose myself in a creative moment, I could so easily find, later, that I have damaged existing work that I greatly love. My traveling partner is eager for me to get a loveseat, so we can cuddle and watch movies or talk. I’d like that, too. My own needs in the moment have more to do with finishing getting moved in…which means doing something about the stacks of paintings. One of the cabinets I generally use for that purpose is currently filled with my valued porcelain; I have no curio to display them in, yet, and the sideboard I lovingly hauled all over the world for 25 years is gone now. So…what is the most practical next step? What best meets my needs over time? That’s a tough one. I do enjoy cuddling my traveling partner… I also enjoy painting, and seeing my home in a very ordered state. (Stacks of paintings here and there do not seem especially ordered, to me. lol)

Enough.

Enough.

Needs of self. Needs of others. Needs of Love. Expectations. Unanswered questions. Well…it’s a good thing enjoying a pleasant Saturday does not require that all of life’s questions have answers. Today is a good day to be, unanswered questions and all. It’s not a competition, and this, right here, is enough.