Archives for posts with tag: OPD

Questions, answers, and a hot cup of coffee.  The morning is off to a sluggish and disorganized beginning; my routine is upended by a partner going off on a short holiday in the wilderness with family and friends; I got up much earlier than usual to make coffee, help load the car, and drop him at the rendezvous point. There’s a certain quality to arrivals and departures that seems to be unique to those occasions, and I didn’t hesitate to opt in to the early morning ritual of checking the packing, making sure nothing is missed, figured out what was missed, retrieving it, and eventually – kisses good-bye. It was chill and intimate time, connecting and holding on to a precious ‘now’ moment, savoring love and sharing the morning.

4:00 am is early.

4:00 am is early.

I’m very appreciative of my morning coffee. I slept poorly; sleeping only once everyone else had truly settled into slumber themselves, and waking earlier than I planned to by the restless stirrings of my partner, excited about the trip, and wakeful ahead of schedule. I figure I managed enough to survive the day more or less comfortably; about 3 hours. The coffee is a big deal this morning. I made 4 shots of espresso, in a cup, with a bit of molasses. Fancy was not necessary. lol

The Menopause Countdown continues, and I’ve never been more relieved than when I am watching my other partner struggle with Hormone Hell. I’m ready to be done with that. Yesterday was day 305… 60 days to go and I can officially say I’m ‘past menopause’.  Truth is, though, it’s been 305 days without screaming at everyone around me unexpectedly over bullshit approximately every 21-32 days.  Had I know how much more pleasant life would be without all that, I’d have asked to have my damned ovaries removed years ago!! I suppose that’s rather more than necessarily radical, but if you don’t have the experience, how do you know if I’m being too extreme? It is what it is, though, and what it is – for me – is almost over.

My other partner heads ‘back home’ this week, herself, to recharge with family and old friends back home.  It makes sense. She hasn’t been home in a while and the timing is good.

Spring, simple, and sufficient.

Spring, simple, and sufficient.

I don’t quite have that ‘back home’ attachment to a place. I miss old friends, and yearn for a good opportunity to travel and hang out and reconnect across the distance of years by closing the geographical distance, but this is a ‘taking care of me’ area I am not good at. It’s been about 11 years since I took a step on the other coast, where my family lives. I’ve never seen my niece – 13? 14? – in person*. I last saw my Mother at my Father’s memorial, more than a decade ago. Close old friends live far away, too, and it has been as long or longer since I’ve seen them.  It is time, too, for me to journey ‘back home’ to reconnect and recharge…but other needs are a higher priority, and I am learning to make choices that meet my long-term needs over time.  It’s a complicated puzzle. I know making time to connect with friends and family is important… I’m always eager to encourage my partners and dear ones to make time to see their far away friends and family, how is it that I suck so much at making the time to do it, myself?

I find myself looking at a different question in a moment of inspiration – “What is it about not making time for distant friends and family that seems to meet my current needs more than making that time would meet my needs?” Aha. I don’t have an answer – but that’s a new question. 🙂

Another perspective, a different question.

Another perspective, a different question.

So, a quiet Wednesday morning unfolding, a second cup of coffee, and plenty of time to meditate and simply be. It’s enough.

 

*So…my sister reached out during the day and observed with some amusement that not only have I met my niece in person, we hung out and she remembers it clearly; it was at my Dad’s memorial, so perhaps overlooking the embarrassing failure to recollect such a precious moment can be forgiven, but… yeah. Totally embarrassed, because of course I remember it as soon as I am reminded! Still human. 🙂

I enjoyed a lovely long weekend celebrating an anniversary. The time spent was intimate, connected, gentle, practical, thought-provoking, and delightfully chill.

In the grander scheme of things there are important questions to be answered. I’m generally not about answers as much as questions, and I suspect getting the questions ‘right’ – meaning that they are appropriately meaningful, and relevant, producing the potential for answers that hold… well… answers – is more important than the answers themselves may be, much of the time.

Importance isn't about size, grandeur, or what matters to someone else.

Importance isn’t about size, grandeur, or what matters to someone else.

In recent weeks I have asked myself some very insightful questions. I have asked others some questions that I expect have answers that hold within them the timeless moment of a decision-making nexus. Certainly, my own answers to some relevant questions have produced a better understanding of my experience and my relationships. I’ve had several moments recently that felt like Life scoring an important pop quiz; I generally feel like I’m at least getting a passing grade, much of the time.

Here it is the start of a new work week, filled with promise, the future on the horizon, and more minutes of potential future queued up to play out in life; converting experience to memories by way of now. There are verbs to apply to circumstances, and wishes to fulfill as plans to be carried out, and there is a better life to build. Choice is spectacular and I am feeling very hopeful; less about what is than what is open to possibility.

Finding balance is as much about choices and verbs as everything else.

Finding balance is as much about choices and verbs as everything else.

I read about the world’s oldest living man. The title-holder of record changes pretty regularly; it’s a position with a lot of turnover. I got to thinking about mortality and humanity, and how long it has taken me to get this close to being the person I want most to be… I rather like the idea that so many more potential years are available. I’m 51 this year; barely starting the ‘second half’. I’d love to be around for a third half… lol.

Time for some deep calming breaths, some meditation, and some verbs. Today is a good day for contentment and satisfaction. Today is a good day for joy. Today is a good day to smile and share a moment of life with others living it. Today is a good day to acknowledge what matters to me, and to be compassionate with others. Today is a good day to rethink old assumptions. Today is a good day to change the world.

Patterns occur pretty naturally, it’s the way repeatable, reproducible things work, perhaps.

The pattern of ripples in water.

The pattern of ripples in water.

I don’t know the math and science of patterns with the sort of detail that would be appropriate for a mathematician or scientist. I see patterns.

Patterns on a sandy beach.

Patterns on a sandy beach.

I see where patterns are broken.

Sometimes it's obvious.

Sometimes it’s obvious.

I’m a pattern analyst by trade, if I narrow down ‘data analysis’ to something more specific, although the sort of thing that I did in the 1980s manually with my brain and eyes is generally done by machines and programming today.

Patterns, and our innate human relationship with patterns and pattern recognition sometimes goes awry; we see patterns that aren’t actually patterns, by connecting unrelated events or experiences. Apophenia is a fancy word for seeing patterns in unrelated things. It’s a very human tendency.

Just in case you're sure you only see patterns that are 'real'... Are you seeing a face in this arrangement of circles and lines? Cuz... this image is not a face, just some circles and lines. :-)

Just in case you’re sure you only see patterns that are ‘real’… Are you seeing a face in this arrangement of circles and lines? Cuz… this image is not a face, just some circles and lines. 🙂

Sometimes patterns are obvious, with obvious causes. Sometimes patterns are quite subtle.  Created patterns and naturally occurring patterns both fascinate me.

Sunlight through blinds - natural? Created?

Sunlight through blinds – natural? Created?

It isn’t always easy to be utterly certain that a pattern is a pattern with patterns that are not visual, auditory, tactile, tabular, charted, or graphed – at least for me.  Emotional and behavioral patterns are much more difficult to be certain of, because the involvement of the observer in the observation is likely to be much higher, and the quality of the data, itself, much poorer.  The time I have spent studying patterns in my own emotional life (for example relative to the ebb and flow of hormones) has been worthwhile for my growth as a human being, but it is a slow process of observation, and error correction. Each observation checked and checked again for verifiable accuracy, examined from multiple alternate perspectives, or against other theories, and any easy or obvious seeming answer questioned to limit and hopefully avoid both bias and losing perspective or compassion for myself. It’s a complicated endeavor.  Before I began practicing mindfulness, it was a hopelessly fast route to frustrated rumination that really didn’t go anywhere.  Now, I’m rather pleased that it seems to fast-track improved long-term emotionally relevant decision-making about my life and behavior that has improved my everyday experience a lot.

There’s that ‘decision-making’ piece, though… Choice is a big part of living well. A lot of people actually choose to live less well than they could; choosing frustration over contentment, choosing wanting over enjoying, choosing righteous indignation over understanding, choosing to be stalled in their life and experience over choosing change. It’s very hard to watch.

Today is a good day to choose well. Today is a good day to be the change I wish to see in my world, and in my life. Today is a good day to choose love, and to choose pleasure. Today is a good day to invest enthusiastically in having a good experience. Today is a good day to change the world.

Life can feel pretty chaotic, happenstance, random, coincidental or strange. I’ve got my free will, you’ve got yours, we’ve all got circumstances. Somewhere in the recesses of my fragmented memory I hear a memory of myself screaming at someone “This is not a fucking GAME!”

Isn’t it?

Is it?

What if it actually were, and we could know that going into it, and as with any game, even have the rules in front of us, and a moment to get set up? There are lots of sorts of games that life is rather like. Games make good metaphors of life for that reason, and many games creep into our language as figures of speech. (I’m looking at you, Baseball!)

If you had a stack of chips – call it your savings – and cash flow that replenished that supply – call it ‘a job’ – and some goals to reach with those resources, and some challenges and hurdles to overcome… that sounds a lot like life. The only thing missing is a system of winners and losers, and a way to keep score. And a timer. Games always end.

Here’s your first goal, first round of the game: acquire suitable housing. lol Yep. There are a lot of options. Do your chips cover what you want most? No? I guess rethinking that makes sense then… What can you afford? Meet the need as soon as possible, improve over time; it’s a common strategy. What if you are fortunate enough that you don’t want or require more than the basics? Your chips pile up! Is that important? No – they’re just chips. lol  A lot of people miss that detail.  We primates are a competitive bunch – what we grab up and keep close doesn’t have to have real value, it just has to be more of whatever it is than that monkey over there has. Hell, in some groups, even having more pain, more misery, amounts to riches.

Every choice we make matters. Every opportunity for a decision, or indecision, or action or inaction, takes our piece another step around the game board.  We progress toward our goals, or move away from them. Sometimes we stand still.

This morning, I’m playing The Game Of Life in my imagination. I’m starting with the chips I’ve got, the job I have, and mentally rebuilding my experience with those resources. Not personally my own? I’m not counting it.  What do I really need? What do I want? What contributes value to my experience? What do I keep, what I do I let go? What can I have? What is out of reach? What matters most?  At the conclusion of this morning’s game, I’m hoping for a clearer picture of the life I would like to be really living. A good map makes any destination easier to reach.

What will I choose to fill my life, my home, my experience?

What will I choose to fill my life, my home, my experience?

Few challenges are as challenging as they seem. Few hurdles stand as tall as we fear. Our choices matter – even our choice about what matters, and what the choices may be.  Today is a good day to make good choices.

This weekend was well-spent on healing and wellness, gardening, love, meditation; it was a delightfully quiet weekend.  In spite of aching knees, juggling a cane, and the frequent heavy rain showers, I spent much of the weekend in the garden, hands in the earth, feet on the ground, eyes skyward or focused on some tiny wonder.  The fresh spring air, and dampness of raindrops on my skin as they loose from where they had collected, when I brush by unconcerned, soaks into my skin, into my heart. I feel refreshed and whole and free.

There have been few places or times in my life when I had no garden at all.  Even in apartment living, I’ve generally had at least some potted herbs, perhaps a rose, or a potted tree of some sort. In 32 years of adult life, I’ve been without a garden for only about 5 years. Some gardens were a continuous struggle with drought, heat, rain, drainage, bugs, critters, in-laws, distance…something. It isn’t always easy. Actually, it’s rarely ‘easy’. Gardening is work, and commitment, and planning, and more of all that and trouble-shooting on top of it.  Long before I heard the word ‘mindfulness’ used in a sentence, I found ‘now’ in my garden. Healing perspective is in my garden. A breath of fresh air, that too, I can find in my garden. A few minutes of stillness, some wonder, excitement, a bit of novelty, a sense of home, peace and contentment, adventure…all in my garden. Lush greens, dark corners, hidden corners of peace and loveliness, and the occasional stray flower of a sort I don’t recall planting; my garden has been the foundation and safe deposit box of whatever sanity I could hang on to, in many years of my life.

Remember the gazing ball that was broken last year? I replaced it Sunday.

The new gazing ball, honoring the hold one; this one already broken, a mosaic of shattered glass.

The new gazing ball, honoring the hold one; this one already broken, a mosaic of shattered glass.

It was that sort of weekend in the garden. I puttered around tying off loose ends, finishing projects, following up on things, taking a second look… it was a weekend for pleasure and perspective.

...And a new bird bath.

…And a new bird bath.

I sometimes overlook how healing I find the garden. A moment of OPD or weirdness, a flare up of my arthritis, or a trip to hormone hell, and even though I know how healing the garden can be, it isn’t always my first destination on that journey. Still human. I checked.

Beauty feels so good.

Beauty feels so good.

It’s worth taking the time to ‘be’ in the garden. Permanence is not relevant. I had allowed myself to be distracted by impermanence, somehow. Perhaps tomorrow, or next year, or 5 years from now, this will not be my garden. Is that important now? Now is the garden as I stand in it. It needn’t wait for another day, or more certainty, or something better, or more of… it needn’t wait at all.  The garden has planning and future, and daydreaming, of course, and all that is as lovely as soap bubbles on a spring breeze. The garden is a very ‘right now’ place nonetheless.  It has my history, my present, and my future along stone paths, and held in bright pots, unfolding each moment as a seed of some ‘next time’.

My history. "Splish-Splash" rose [Moore. 1994]  I've had this miniature, this very plant, with me since 1995.

My history. “Splish-Splash” rose [Moore. 1994] I’ve had this miniature, this very plant, with me since 1995.

I have moved a lot. I’ve had more than one garden. I’ll likely have others. Each is precious to me, and each is ‘my garden’ for all the days I tend it. I hold nothing back; I garden now, even though the future is not assured.

The garden is my future, as well as my now, holding my daydreams gently.  Seedlings of the California poppy border I planted this spring are just coming up now.

The garden is my future, as well as my now, holding my daydreams gently. Seedlings of the California poppy border I planted this spring are just coming up now.

This weekend I enjoyed the garden and let life’s small drama’s pass me by as much as possible.  It made for a beautiful weekend, and a lovely ‘now’.

Today is a good day to smile and make eye contact with strangers. Today is a good day to listen to the answers to questions, and hear more than words. Today is a good day to enjoy the spring. Today is a good day for kindness and wonder. Today is a good day to change the world.