Archives for posts with tag: mornings

I sip my coffee quietly, considering the day ahead. I think for a brief moment that I have no plans, but realize it isn’t so. I dither, wondering if accepting an invitation to hike this morning would have been a better choice, instead of being here. Right now, here doesn’t feel very good…and I’ve no idea why. Humans being human. It happens.

Words are powerful tools for love. They are not always used that way. I try to use mine gently, wisely, well – with consideration. I try to use them a little more skillfully, and with greater care every day. I hold on to the hope that in doing so, I improve my own experience of myself, of the world I live in, and my relationships. It isn’t always a notably successful effort – still human – and I’m not certain sometimes that anyone else notices or cares much – they are still human, too. Each having our own experience.

Something has gone wrong with the morning. I don’t know what, and I examine my expectations, first; have I somehow crafted this experience with assumptions and expectations? I do a ‘self inventory’ with considerable tenderness, looking for where I may be struggling with something else in the background, or a missed self-care detail more important than I recognized. I feel myself earnestly wanting to connect with my traveling partner pleasantly, merrily, intimately; there is so much potential for joy in who we are together. Somehow, now is not the time. My gentlest approach this morning is met with a frown. I escape to my studio, hoping his morning gets better over his coffee. I contemplate going back to bed, which feels like a childish over-reaction to something that isn’t about me. I work on letting it go, and staying in the headspace I woke in; calm, rested, curious what the day holds, eager to enjoy the companionship of my partner, when he finds himself ready, too.

Expectations and assumptions are the Boss bad guys of relationships, aren’t they? I can’t know what someone is assuming (about me, about us, about the circumstances) but it quickly becomes clear that assumptions are being made when conversation lacks understanding. I sometimes find myself holding onto expectations, unstated, that later detonate and turn my pleasant moment into an emotional blast zone, when my unnoticed expectations are not met by real life.

Last night I expected to arrive home to my partner’s smile and a hug and some time hanging out; he’d already called it a night. I felt disappointed, but understanding – it’s not personal, or tragic, when someone takes care of themselves. I woke this morning looking forward to enjoying his company, talking about my evening, hanging out over morning coffee. He wasn’t yet up, and that didn’t bother me at all. Hell, it’s not personal that the morning is difficult now – we’re neither of us actually ‘morning people’. I find myself feeling rather lonely in this particular moment – also not personal, and definitely more ‘weather’ than ‘climate’. Difficult in the moment. Moments pass. This one, in fact, passes as soon as my traveling partner steps into the studio, shares a few words about his evening, and asks about mine.

Take the time to enjoy the moment.

Take the time to enjoy the moment. Be kind. Be gentle.

Today will likely be quite a nice day, most especially if I am willing to set aside expectations, refrain from making assumptions, and refuse to take things personally. Today is a good day to use some verbs.

Yesterday I didn’t write. I woke seconds ahead of the alarm, and a bit disappointed it was morning. I enjoyed quiet, unmeasured stillness, meditating in the holiday glow of the decorated loft and found myself feeling incredible balanced and content as the day began…

Ornaments as metaphors; love is a lighthouse.

Ornaments as metaphors; love is a lighthouse.

…It all went wrong very quickly, in that way that mornings so easily can.  I spent the remainder of the day feeling stuck – and angry. I have challenges with anger, and I carry around a lot of baggage that is related to anger, and the strange double standard I perceive between what is permitted of the anger of men versus the anger of women. Gender bias issues of that sort generally function implicitly, and it has always been an area of my experience in which I have struggled to be heard, to be accepted, or to make progress with my challenges. I run from anger – mine, too – until I explode unable to contain it any longer. It’s unhealthy. Yesterday sucked quite a lot, and probably didn’t have to. I have work to do in the area of anger. I’m sure life will continue to provide curriculum for the needed learning experience. 🙂

I did not expect that when I woke this morning, I would feel insecure and reluctant to experience morning at all. Yesterday apparently managed to be a pretty big deal on that level, and I find myself feeling fretful about it, and I am unsurprised that tears fall, and then stop, only to start up again for no apparent reason. Tinkering with implicit memory has, over time, resulted in me being somewhat more sensitive to, and aware of, how intense experiences create change in ‘the way things feel’. This morning my anxiety is needless, and associated with the hurt-sad-angry moments of mornings that are not this one. How unreasonable!

I don’t generally write when I am angry. I struggle to communicate comfortably at all, and I’m often unsure quite what to say; I want to get words out that have meaning, are reasonable, and communicate well, and gently, what’s on my mind…only…anger. I didn’t write yesterday. I did go to my therapy appointment, and it ended up being by far the most important conversation of this lifetime about anger. I’m hopeful about the content and significance. I’m anxious about it; change can mean turmoil, and anything to do with anger is actually pretty terrifying for me.

This morning I went straight to writing after meditating, as if the deviation in my routine yesterday was the thing that was problematic. It isn’t likely that meditating in the loft yesterday, and not writing at all, was in any way associated with the blow up later…but “it felt wonderful and calm and delightful, and then things went wrong, therefore I can’t have that” is sort of how my brain broke it down to me this morning. I feel my anxiety increase just contemplating enjoying quiet chill time in that colorful holiday space that I love. What a mess. I am so very human, and sometimes the chaos and damage are more obvious than others.

Would I be easier to love if I never spoke?

Would I be easier to love if I never spoke?

This morning is a whole new day. I’ve got a great shot of espresso. It’s a birthday (Happy Birthday, Love!!). The work day ahead looks to be a good one, and I anticipate spending those hours engaged in tasks that excite me intellectually, in an area of work in which I feel very sure of myself and valued. My pain, today, is quite manageable. I woke without a headache. I find myself feeling hopeful and enthusiastic between stray moments of anxiety. I avoid setting expectations of the day as much as possible to limit my stress, and prevent setting myself or my love up for failure, this morning or later.

Today is a good day to take care of me. Today is a good day to love. Today is a good day to understand that anger isn’t an enemy, and that I have an opportunity to learn and grow from it, and make use of it as a tool, and an alert system. Today is a good day to step right over my fears and doubts and love without reservations. Today is a good day to see the best in each person I interact with, and reflect that back to them by being the best person I can be, myself. Today is a good day for consideration and kindness. Today is a good day to change the world.

I had terrible nightmares last night…a panic and dread infused montage of hate and violence, crafted from ancient pain and damage to bring out my deepest fears and insecurities. I managed to wake with a smile in spite of that – thank you, Love. 🙂

The morning now is made of lattes and love songs. Dire Straits singing to me about the things that life teaches, the things that matter most, and the things that drive us.  It feels like a perfect morning, and such a relief after such a dread-filled night.  There’s something of a refuge and a homecoming for me in the early music of Dire Straits…I remember the first time I heard Sultans of Swing …I was still in high school, it was late, and I was in a bubble bath with my radio perched precariously on the window sill on a warm evening, trying to catch ‘good radio’ on the skip from Mexico, or California, or Texas. I was looking for Wolfman Jack. lol. Without preamble, the sweet soulful notes opening Sultans of Swing entirely changed my experience. I still find it to be … amazing. So… an entire paragraph for Dire Straits – it seems a pretty small ‘thank you’, really.

Today is gardening, and hanging out, and loving…and it is time for another latte. 😀

Love and roses; 'Irresistible' in the morning.

Love and roses; ‘Irresistible’ in the morning.