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Letting it Rain, Too

October 5, 2016 //
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I woke to the sound of rainfall. It was only a patter on the window glass, then. I’ve been up some minutes now, and the rain is falling with real commitment to soaking everything, deeply so, and doing it with some rhythm. I take my coffee out onto the patio briefly.

I enjoy the rain, and I enjoy the metaphor…although, today isn’t ideal for falling rain metaphors. Rainy days of the heart, stormy moments, experiences weighed down by gray clouds of despair… these are exceptional moments for falling rain. I am frankly pleased that today I am simply listening to the rain fall, content with my morning coffee, calm after morning meditation, and feeling generally well and enthused about the day.  There will be other days more suited to the rain falling so steadily; this morning I enjoy it as it is.

This too shall pass. Isn’t that the underlying truth of impermanence? What I cling to will betray me with its impermanence, again and again, and not even “on purpose” or with any intention of causing me pain; most things, good and less so, end at some point. “Forever” joins its friend “happily ever  after” on the bookshelf marked “fiction”. That’s even totally okay – the highest highs need at least some bit of perspective on life’s lows to understand their dizzying heights. Things end. Things begin. We walk on.

Love and raindrops

Love and raindrops

I enjoyed a quiet evening with my traveling partner. Weekday evenings are so short now. I enjoy spending the time with him. “What do you want to do?” he asks at one point. I struggled to find the words. I could have said “Only to relax with you, quite comfortably, as though you live here every day.” It is the simplest expression of how I felt at that moment. I think what I said was “watch a movie?”, which wasn’t at all what I meant. Still, somehow the point gets across, I think, and we spend the evening looking for an anime to share together, settling perhaps not definitely on watching an old favorite again, but in Japanese instead of the English translation. Hearing such difference voices, and the emotion delivered somewhat differently, is engaging and beautiful. I don’t at all mind reading subtitles (and have to, since I don’t speak or read Japanese).

This morning, I begin again. A rainy commute will lead me to a day at work which will end with a crowded evening commute and a short quiet evening at home… solo? Maybe. I won’t know until then becomes now. I’m mostly okay with that, most of the time, although I do like planning, and prefer to have clear expectations of things to come. It’s been important to let go of my attachment to other people planning things as I do; it caused me a lot of unnecessary suffering.

I sip my coffee thinking about things that don’t happen, and things that do, and all the wasted planning that goes on in the calendars of people who plan. I think about all the wasted time that goes on in the days of people who don’t plan at all. I smile. I sip my coffee. We’re each having our own experience. It’s very human.

Today is a good day to let the rain fall. Today is a good day to begin again. Today is a good day to make plans, and when plans fall through it is a good day not to take is personally. It’s okay to let the rain be enough, just as it is. 🙂

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Categories autumn, Free Will, Love, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Perspective, Relationships, The Art of Being

Over That

October 1, 2016 //
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Let’s not talk about yesterday. Well… we could, but if we do, let’s only talk about the best bits, the fun of it, the things that worked, how we overcame a challenge, why we’re feeling good about the future – and if we don’t have any of that to appreciate, let’s take a moment to be right here, right now, and just breathe through the things weighing us down. It’ll pass.

I woke earlier than the rest of the household. I indulged in a rare (for now) luxury; meditation without a timer, on my cushion, in the patio doorway, watching the night become dawn, and unfold into day. Almost two hours later, I made a cup of coffee, feeling nurtured and enriched. I needed that so urgently.

My emotional resilience begins to erode quickly without my meditation practice; I don’t withstand the continued onslaught of human emotions, drama, assumptions, projections, noise, or even endure the ongoing presence of other consciousness’ very well without literal every day meditation. Having a house guest, and my traveling partner staying over, and parties breaking out at my place before I even get home from work has meant that I don’t have the quiet time I really need with any reliability, right now. This too will pass. I’m not even bitching – I get to spend a wonderful amount of time with my traveling partner. I don’t grudge him his human moments. We all have them.

He has his own perspective.

He has his own perspective; he’s having his own experience.

My walk this morning took me, new camera (phone) in hand, around and through the park. Autumn is showing up everywhere. It was lovely, and time well-spent. It’s enough.

Autumn is here.

Autumn is here.

Today is a good day to is a good day to breathe, and to practice. Today is a good day to begin again.

 

 

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Categories Anxiety, autumn, Brain Injury, Free Will, Love, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, pain, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Relationships, solo hiking, The Art of Being, The Big 5

Odds and Evens

September 27, 2016 //
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Full house this morning. My traveling partner and his son still sleeping, the apartment feels very quiet. I’ll probably be gone for the day long before they wake. I made it through the work day fairly comfortably, yesterday. I face today feeling confident I’ll manage, in spite of continued cold symptoms, and generally feeling somewhat miserable with the commonplace stuffy head nonsense slowly migrating into my chest for future misery with the congested chest nonsense next week. Maybe it won’t go that way… experience suggests otherwise. Do I have a preference? Is that even a question that makes any sense?

I breathe deeply – and set off a coughing fit. The coughing fit somehow results in looking into the kitchen light – long enough to start me sneezing, immediately after finishing with the coughing. I break out in a sweat, as though it amounts to real exertion. My fitness tracker disagrees, insisting I am “inactive”. I sneer at it dismissively, playfully retorting “you don’t know me” aloud, quietly. I smile that I’m “keeping my voice low” to prevent waking people; I ran the burr grinder for my coffee, have had multiple fits of coughing or sneezing, and closed the bathroom door on my hand earlier, resulting in quite an audible yelp of pain. So. I’m pretty sure sassing my fitness tracker isn’t going to be the thing that woke the household. 🙂 Funny human primates. Even on small courtesies we lack perspective.

Life looks different this morning than it did two weeks ago. I’ve lost 40 hours of my time each week, and gained valued resources in the exchange of life-force for currency. My traveling partner and I talk “next steps”, and about the future together. His restless heart yearns to move about his universe, exploring, traveling, seeing sights, and tasting adventure. Mine yearns for a safe haven after a lifetime of stormy seas and rootless wandering. Sometimes it sounds a poor fit, the two of us together, and this morning I savor how very well it suits me, to be here, safe, wrapped in contentment, a welcoming harbor for a traveler’s homecoming. This works for us. Later there will be stories shared, hugs, kisses (well… once I’m over this cold), and time well-spent, because we spent it together. Enough? More than enough.

In what direction will the journey unfold, now? What next steps can I see? Are there others, worthy useful others, I may be inclined to overlook? Do I want what my lover wants? Where our desires differ… who decides? Life is a solo hike; sometimes we share the journey alongside another, but it’s our hike to make, bearing the weight of our own burdens, and the consequences of our own choices. I am my own cartographer. Will I “pack light” and move quickly through life committed to a plan, without pausing to enjoy it? The map is not the world. The plan is not the experience. Will I struggle under the weight of my baggage, mile by mile, exhausted and cranky, but well-equipped for the unlikely odd circumstance? We are each having our own experience. How do I share life’s journey with skill, however briefly?

I sip my coffee, losing interest in the metaphor in favor of some distraction, already forgotten.

Where will the journey take me?

Where will the journey take me?

…And still the household sleeps. I look at my list for the day and realize I’ve overlooked meditation. Practices work best with verbs involved. It’s time to set aside the written word for a while. Today is a good day for practicing practices, and for good self-care. Today is a good day to invest in wellness. Today is a good day to slow down, and enjoy the journey. 🙂

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Categories Free Will, health, Healthy Living, Love, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Perspective, Relationships, solo hiking, The Art of Being, The Big 5

Another Breath, Another Moment

September 15, 2016 //
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He’s gone, now. Like a dust-devil on the open desert; approaching from a distance, I had an idea my traveling partner would likely head my way at some point, and probably need to stop by for this or that, but no clear expectation of timing. While that’s not my own preference for managing details, I am content to enjoy him when I can. He suggests, by phone, at some point yesterday, he’d be by right about… whenever he’s here, really, and that’s what I heard, regardless of what it was he said, which I no longer recall.  I only knew he’d come, at some point, and I’d feel his arms around me for a moment, before – just as with that allegorical dust-devil – he’s quite gone again. I find myself smiling this morning, grateful for love’s moments, unconcerned over love’s lack of commitment to efficient scheduling. 🙂

the twilight of dawn

Letting go of attachment takes practice. I’m still practicing.

His planning shifted with the day. He would be here… He might not make it… He definitely wouldn’t make it that day, but would make time the next… Then, quite late… “I’m on my way. I’ll be there in about 8 minutes.” No argument from me, and no stress. Oh, sure, this level spontaneity isn’t so much my thing, but being bitchy about it tends to degrade the general quality of our experience together in the moment, and he is aware that I like a bit of planning, some structure, all that – if he could offer it in that moment, he would have, because when he can, he does.

develops

Embracing impermanence requires practice. I’m still practicing. 

Life is not a freight train on rails following a set, fixed, known path, with a clear schedule to which it adheres, not even “generally”. Why would love be constrained by a timetable when life herself can’t get her shit together enough to make and follow a workable plan, day-to-day?! LOL Planning and having a fairly clear idea of the day and week ahead, those are my wants, needs,  and inclinations, and it absolutely makes sense to me that I tend to organize my time in a fairly firm way. Other people find less value in the routine and predictable, and seek greater spontaneity in their adventures. I’m learning to let go and avoid suffering in life when plans fall through, or reality refuses to comply with my expectations, which are very often upended by life, by love, by circumstance, by whim, by opportunity, by choice, by chance… Life is far more important than the schedule with which someone tries to regulate and manage it. 😀

the sun rises

I begin again. A lot. 

Damn, I do miss him, though, already. That’s okay, too. The whirlwind moments of his brief visit were shared in the company of friends, dear to us both. He was here! His gear was quickly, rather sloppily assembled (also not my preference, and it had been planned differently lol). Conversation happening, his gear still ends up packed, somehow. Much fun was had in those brief moments together. Laughter. Hugs. Friendship. Warmth. Love. Tenderness. Kindness. Adulting. I’m still lingering on those precious moments, because I have learned they are by far more important and more worthy of savoring than the poignant quiet moment at the end of the day, alone in the darkness. Here I sit, with my coffee and my quiet smile, content and wrapped in love. 🙂

Mmmm... Life is good.

Mmmm… Life is good.

We become what we practice. There are verbs involved. 🙂

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Categories Brain Injury, Free Will, Healthy Living, Love, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Relationships, The Art of Being, The Big 5, Words

The Brain Attacks! Again.

September 9, 2016 //
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It could be that some of my challenges will be part of my experience for as long as I’m experiencing things. It sucks more than a little bit to dwell on that, so I move on with my thinking as quickly as I can, but without cruelty or dismissiveness. I am human, after all. This morning I woke, and quickly found myself reduced to tears…over… nothing. Nothing whatsoever that has any substance in this moment, I mean. Emotions. Dreams? Maybe.

"The Nightmare City" 8" x 10" acrylic on canvas w/glow

“The Nightmare City” 8″ x 10″ acrylic on canvas w/glow

I woke feeling angry with my traveling partner, which is odd; one of my challenges is feeling safe about, and comfortably expressing, anger in my closest relationships. (It’s baggage that isn’t about my traveling partner, but he’s had to endure me lugging it around all this time.) I woke feeling angry that in our first years married, illness held him back from doing a lot of cool things; we stayed home, a lot. Now he’s well, and feeling fully himself, and he lives a busy life of adventure, going, doing, experiencing new things… and we no longer live together, and these are not our shared experiences. The anger I woke with quickly threatened to become a tantrum, a storm of unrelenting strong emotion knocking me off-balance with hurt feelings, and regrets. The anger became grief and sadness as soon as I let myself feel my feelings with compassion, and recognized the simultaneous feelings of resentment, sadness, and insecurity. My heart cried out “what do we have that is ours?” and I couldn’t answer it – not because there is nothing with which to answer, but because I can’t easily find the answer (through tears, through heartache, through the fog of just waking up, before my coffee…) without considerable thought. I let the tears come; it would be a genuinely sad thing to share nothing with one’s lover, and were that the case, there would be no failure in these honest tears.

It's okay to put some of that down, for now.

It’s okay to put some of that down, for now.

Later, I sip my coffee aware of the authentic feelings at the root of my difficult waking moments. I’m deeply in love with this particular human being I call my traveling partner, and at least for now we live very separate lives. Sometimes that is a painful experience. Sometimes it holds some relief that this human being so dear to me doesn’t have to struggle under the weight of my chaos and damage full-time. Right now, in this moment, I just miss him and find myself wondering rather hormonally what value I have… (Fuck you, Menopause, I’m supposed to be past having to deal with hormonal bullshit!) It’s rather foolish. It’s very human.

Love matters most.

Love matters most.

Seasons change. Over the long summer I’ve come to miss him greatly, after enjoying living with him through the winter. I’m eager to enjoy the autumn and winter months together, celebrating holidays, enjoying the company of friends… but… there is something real here that may want my attention, and getting past the tears I’m aware that most his “go” and “do” activities in the past 2 years have developed in other relationships than ours. We spend very little time together; he’s busy elsewhere. (It’s quite possible the time we do spend together fully meets his needs. I’m not sure I’m ready to ask that question…) I woke up hurting over it and wondering what value “we” have for him. It’s not something to stew over – that’s a fast track to misery. I’ll just ask when I see him again, and he will tell me, and then I’ll know. I’ll be back to work soon… there won’t be time for fussing about how little time we spend together, then; there won’t be time left in the days for it. The time we spend together will be limited to the time we have.

My calendar is very full for the next several days. Appointments. Brunch with a friend over the weekend. Friday night with the guys from my previous work team. My last week of leisure will probably be filled with “getting ready to go back to work” activities. It’s not likely that these will be days filled with sadness or passing emotional storms, there’s too much to do, and life to be lived. I feel some regret that my traveling partner wasn’t available to enjoy more of this time away from work with me… but it was time I took for me, as it was, and it has been well-spent on healing, growing, and practicing good self-care. Worthy endeavors, good outcomes. (So, hey, Brain, stop being such a bitch to me, please?)

A gray dawn greeted me so gently I barely noticed it had become day time while I wrote. I’m not crying now, or even sad really. I’m sipping my coffee, listening to music, and feeling a contented smile tug at the corners of my mouth. I think about other friends. Other loves. Other moments of great joy – or great sorrow. Impermanence is a very real thing, and change is, too. I smile thinking about my traveling partner’s good times to come, and his journey here and there. I’m already eager to hear about it – and he hasn’t even departed. lol He’ll take approximately no pictures at all, but my imagination will fill in all the details in the telling. 🙂

Today I don’t opt into loneliness, and once my tears have dried it’s another lovely morning, heading into another day of living a life built mostly on contentment (and bits and pieces of chaos and damage). Today is a good day to begin again. 🙂

 

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Categories Anxiety, art and the artist, autumn, Brain Injury, Free Will, grief, Healthy Living, Logic & Reason, Love, Menopause, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, more than a little bit of bitching, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Relationships, The Art of Being, Words
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