Archives for posts with tag: OPD free zone

It’s late. I made a choice to finish the evening gently, investing in small joys I associate with the holidays: the music, the twinkle lights, the scents, and the flavors. By choice, I finish the evening with a smile floating on the current that is the things that are going well, rather than becoming snagged, weighed-down, by something going less well. (It would be a rare thing in life for absolutely 100% of everything to be entirely ideal.) I’m comfortable with contentment, and I have enough for that. I take time for me, and treat myself gently, and well.

Glow

Relaxing in the glow, I begin again.

I meditate a while and set aside enough of my concern for my traveling partner to rest easily and trust his good decision-making. Losing sleep over the circumstances benefits no one. Feeling comforted from within and able to ‘be there’ if called upon, I chill awhile longer in the glow of the Giftmas tree, grateful to love and be loved, and grateful to have enough.

 

The night is cracked open by the sound of sirens in the neighborhood. Someone is having a difficult evening. They’re not alone. There are other people alone or struggling in the night, frightened, angry, sad humans out there in the early darkness of winter. Dark times seem darker when it is also cold.

I had been writing when my traveling partner called, most recently. We spent most of the day together, many hours hanging out and enjoying each other’s company. After he left, I got first one call, then another… trying times over there, and I am worried for him. The sounds of sirens now, nearer by, keep pulling me back to older moments than those, threatening to mix the new and the old, or stitch them together. I save my draft. All those wasted words; too personal for publication, at least in this moment, now… But, it’s still this moment, now, and only this one. I breathe deeply, calmly, and watch a demon fall. “You have no power over me, now.” I whisper silently, with considerable satisfaction and a feeling of strength. (No doubt this too will require some practice, and there will be verbs involved.)

I am okay right now, aside from being concerned about my partner. It’s hard to watch him being mistreated. I don’t much feel like writing, and can’t do much to provide real assistance beyond offering a welcoming safe haven from any storm, a warm and accepting embrace, and my engaged presence. I will likely spend the evening with the phone near at hand, in case of an emergency call, and hope that ‘things blow over’, or that love will prevail.

 

A lovely holiday weekend so far, and having to work for a couple of hours in the morning today hasn’t seemed to be a significant downer, so far. My coffee is tasty, well-made, and hot – but also just the right temperature to drink. I’ve been sleeping well, and today woke with very little pain – a relief after yesterday’s more-than-usually painful morning.

I spent Thanksgiving alone; my traveling partner was in too much pain to cross town for the holiday meal. I was prepared for that, having planned the meal from a solitary perspective in the first place. It sucked more that he was in pain than any disappointment he wasn’t attending dinner, honestly. I have never experienced a solitary Thanksgiving meal, and eagerly embraced the spirit of the holiday, even enjoying the holiday cooking, and clean up very nearly as much as the meal itself – which turned out wonderfully. I had wondered if there would be something inescapably blue about Thanksgiving alone. There doesn’t seem to be anything inherently sad or blue about a solitary Thanksgiving. I invested in good self-care practices throughout the day, and treated myself well – I wholly enjoyed the holiday, and enjoyed a festive, celebratory meal. I have a lot to be grateful for in a life worth celebrating.

Before the cooking, a long walk in the chill autumn air.

Before the cooking, a long walk in the chill autumn air.

It was delightful to stay in contact with my traveling partner throughout the day, small conversations about the meal, about the day, about our experience together, sharing photographs and links to things we found relevant or amusing. There is so much technology available now that can connect us more closely, if we choose to use it that way.

Love, challenges, and sharing the journey; there are still verbs involved.

Love, challenges, and sharing the journey; there are still verbs involved.

I woke yesterday considering taking advantage of the beautiful day to take a long hike…then I tried to stand up. So. No hiking was going to happen yesterday – I’d feel fortunate at day’s end if I had been able to do dishes, and dress for the day. I definitely wasn’t going anywhere. I don’t do “Black Friday” shopping, so I wasn’t missing anything in that regard, but it sucked to hurt so badly I couldn’t even consider a hike, or a walk in the sunshine.

I took my time and I took care of myself with care. Yoga happened – slowly, a few minutes at a time, one posture, or another, carefully growing to two, three, more – by mid-day I was more flexible and in less pain. I happily undertook the holiday decorating; the tree fits my apartment! It ended up being a day spent wonderfully well, and ended with a state of contentment quite beyond any words I could share. It’s been a couple of years since I have been able to enjoy an utterly drama-free holiday – but it has been, so far, and it is quite wonderful. There’s been very little stress at all, and none of that at home. “Magical” seems a good description for the holiday season so far… although… it’s hardly fair to begin labeling things two days into it… only… perhaps going into it with wide-eyed wonder, and a perspective of joy, is the best start I could give it?

Choosing joy, and enjoying small pleasures.

Choosing joy, and enjoying small pleasures.

I’d throw more words at you about choices and perspective and verbs; I would be repeating myself. I will say I am reasonably certain, based on other prior life experiences, that I could have chosen to wallow in my insecurities and doubts all day on Thursday, and blown my Thanksgiving holiday experience invested in personal sorrow, mired in chaos and damage. I chose differently – and did so well before the holiday arrived, committing my planning and intention to enjoying the holiday from a new perspective, seeking the value in the differences with openness and enthusiasm. There were verbs involved. There was a requirement to let go of attachment to expectations built on other experiences, and there was also a need to reach for the pleasant qualities, the joy, the values, and to willfully savor the celebration. The outcome was a worthy and quite wonderful holiday. It was not relevant that I was alone; it was one of the best Thanksgivings I’ve been fortunate to enjoy. I learned some things about solitude – and about loneliness – from small adjustments to my perspective.

Today is another adventure, a new one. What will the day hold? I consider the hours of the day that will remain ahead of me when I leave the office… It is a Saturday, a holiday weekend, and there are some holiday touches that haven’t been handled. I need a new wreath for the front door. The one I had, until the move, was specifically selected for the house we all shared, and doesn’t at all suit my current decor, the aesthetic of the neighborhood, or the size of my entry way. This is such a small place – between the lack of storage and the likelihood of spiders moving into any wreath I might hang, I have already decided to put up a wreath of fresh materials that won’t be stored for re-use. A simple fragrant pine wreath of some sort seems ideal, and I find myself wondering if a trip to Saturday Market after work would be fun…

There will be a festive glow to welcome me home in the evening.

There will be a festive glow to welcome me home in the evening.

There are so many simple joys in life. When I am able to approach each day from the perspective of embracing those simple pleasures, simple experiences, and simple moments of beauty, rather than focusing on how to endure the challenges life may present, the joys seem to become more plentiful over time. Today is a good day for joy. Today is a good day to smile at strangers. Today is a good day to be kind, to show compassion, and to remember how very human we each are. Today is a good day to change the world.

I watched the sun set as I rode the light rail across town. It was lovely. I didn’t think to take a picture, and I’m not sure I could have captured the quality of light reliably. I enjoyed the moment. The ride was fairly quiet, as if all the other commuters were similarly wrapped in their own thoughts, or simply tired at the end of a long day. I didn’t think much about it at the time. I rode along wrapped in my own thoughts.

Home. There’s not much on my mind besides this gentle quiet place, and love. It’s enough.

I spent some time, before it began to get quite dark, rearranging the potted roses and herbs on my patio; the contractors had their own idea about placement, and left my garden in disarray when they left. It was a lovely soothing moment tending home and hearth, and the evening feels very satisfying. This is also enough.

A different evening, a different place, some other moment.

A different evening, a different place, some other moment.

There was a point at which I had pulled fine filaments of words together in a complex braided thread that became quite properly an idea. It dissipated like mist in the golden sunset as I rode along smiling at the evening light, and I arrived home pleasantly tired. Satisfied with the moment; all of it, every bit, quite enough.

I woke during the night, or rather more accurately I simply realized at about 1:00 am that I was awake. My state of wakefulness continued for some time, and I finally recognized that I wasn’t returning to sleep; something was keeping me awake. I wasn’t sure what was disturbing my sleep, but I got up for a little while, keeping the apartment dim, and figured some meditation and yoga might send me easily back to the land of dreams. I was incorrect. Once I got up, it was clearer that there was a physical source to my discomfort, and although I felt no hint of nausea, I knew I was going to be sick, at some point in the imminent future. I sat meditating comfortably, and waiting for that more acute moment of discomfort that would signal immediate illness to come. I didn’t have to wait long, and it was all over very quickly. I was easily able to return to sleep.

I woke with a headache, and arthritis pain on the ‘winter’ setting. I am physically uncomfortable, although the morning begins well enough in all other regards. I could make a big deal out of the pain and the headache and stomp around snarling, but there’s no point in doing so, and I would prefer to enjoy the morning, content, and quiet. The quiet morning was interrupted by my own laughter at one point; morning yoga with this headache and arthritis pain resulted in some ‘turtle on its back’ “fun” when I toppled over during a moment of vertigo, and couldn’t quite get up, because of pain and stiffness. I was still chuckling when I tried the same sequence again, successfully – which is a far better outcome than if I were helplessly weeping in frustration and anger, and storming around the apartment annoyed with myself. This ‘being human’ thing is rich with comedy – and with frustration, and I enjoy it when the former mitigates the latter.

Coffee time…oh, and goodness it is good this morning. Yes! I pause everything, move to the wee love seat, and make room in my morning for stillness, just chilling quietly, hands wrapped around the warm coffee mug, basking in the contentment of this moment right here.

Enough.

Enough.

My traveling partner arrived safely home last night, and I am eager to see him – I don’t actually know when that will be. Last week our attempts to plan time together were undermined by the needs of another relationship; I saw him only once, unplanned, for a short period of time when he urgently needed an emotional safe haven from stress and mistreatment. I don’t regret not living in that environment with him; however convenient it might have seemed, it was actually damaging the relationship I share with my traveling partner (far too valuable to sacrifice carelessly) to live around his other partner. It took some time to come to terms with that, and to recognize how much more easily we love each other, and how deeply, and to see our profound connection restored – through distance (about 12 mildly inconvenient miles). It is fulfilling to live in accordance with my own values, by my own rules, with my injury accounted for in my day-to-day environment, able to paint when I am inspired, unconcerned about inconveniencing anyone, and absent the stresses of OPD. It’s never been about winning, or losing, only about living, loving, and finding my way to being the woman I most want to be. I will see him when I see him; when we are together our time is well-spent on love. 🙂

What matters most?

What matters most?

Soon there will be sharing of tales of adventure, and cuddling, and romance, and plans for the future. There will be laughter, and an intimate connection that still strikes me as singularly deep, and profoundly insightful. There will be encouragement, and enthusiasm. There will be affection, a sense of fun, and shared humor. For now, there is a work day ahead of me, and plenty to do. I smile when I think of my traveling partner, wondering what his day will look like. I’ve traveled a long way, myself, on this journey that is loving, and in the brief time we’ve been together (only about 5 years) my traveling partner has been with me to see much of that growth. There is so much of the everyday routine of life that brings him to mind, I sometimes forget we don’t live together. lol Even simple things like cleaning the kitchen seem like acts of love; he taught me the food safety practices I still use in my kitchen, and encouraged me to get my food handlers card, not because I needed one, but because it was a great way to ensure I really did understand food safety basics – and do so without badgering me, frustrating me, or hurting my feelings. Love isn’t exclusively about smiles and kisses; love encourages us to grow, nurtures us while we do, and celebrates with us when we have.

Unfinished work?

Unfinished work? “Uplifted Hearts” I think a lot about love.

Another day thinking about love? Sure – I think about love and loving a lot. What better use of my time, and studies, than reflecting on love and loving, becoming a more skilled partner and lover, treating others well in every relationship (because that, too, is love) and savoring the successes, learning from the moments that go sideways unexpectedly, and continuing to invest moment-to-moment in what love offers? Seriously? It’s a major disappointment to me as an adult that we don’t teach love and loving more honestly (or at all), with more depth, and with more acknowledgement of the power love has in our lives to heal, and to enrich our experience. How many of us stumble through decades of our adulthood before we sort out the difference between lust and love? Sex and love? Being loved and loving? Before we understand that there are verbs involved? Before we even understand all the many sorts of love that exist (each having value all its own)? Instead, we argue over the value of sex education and don’t bring love into the conversation at all, which is pretty telling of what primitive creatures we really are, still trying to restrict and regulate a need (and a drive) that is fundamental to every breath we take, instead of coaching and educating and promoting the well-being of our entire society of humans from a loving place, regarding matters of love.

Be love.

Be love.

Today is a good day to love, to explore love, to reflect on what love asks of us, to consider what we have to offer. Today is a good day for loving, and for being loved – there are verbs involved. Today is a good day to invest our vast lifetime of emotional moments in the treasures that love has to offer. Today I will start with loving the woman in the mirror, and smile; loving her well changes my experience of the world – and the world’s experience of me.