Archives for posts with tag: relationships

I’m sipping my coffee, and smiling. Profound joy, and great delight, fill me up this morning. I’m content. Well-loved. My coffee tastes good. I got the rest I need. It is simply a lovely morning, and I’m in love. πŸ™‚

…The love, and loving, do tend to “light up” the day, most splendidly. πŸ˜€ I hear love songs in my head.

It’s a bit peculiar… I was so cynical about love as a younger person. I’d been hurt too often, too deeply, to “believe the hype” or appreciate the promise offered by real intimacy. It was a painful journey from that place, to this one, and I struggled for a long time to balance my tendency toward inappropriately deep (often undeserved)loyalty, with my lack of ability to form healthy attachments, or bond closely with lovers.

… I’m not there, now. Love feels so much different, from my vantage point, now, it is quite tempting to take a satisfied approach and figure “damn, I’m awesome at this love stuff!!” I’d lose a great opportunity to continue to grow my skills, and deepen my relationships, if I did. πŸ™‚ I breathe, exhale, relax, and let go of my expectations and assumptions, and sit present on a lovely morning, feeling loved.

Last night I came home to work to a magical wonderland of being loved, appreciated, valued, and cared for. It was an evening of connection, intimacy, warmth, and an experience of deep, lasting passion – with a human being who is also my best friend. Wow. I’m still smiling. My Traveling Partner blows my mind with his ability to love, to demonstrate that love, to share it, to deepen it, to connect with me.

This morning, I sip my coffee, smiling at the world, and myself. Love is “all that“. Love really does “matter most”.Β  πŸ™‚ I’m grateful to have the chance to experience, explore, deepen, and enjoy the love I know. It’s hard to embrace the next moment (or begin again), just now… I’m very much enjoying soaking up the love in this one. πŸ˜€ I think I’ll do just that, for now, sit here, contentedly, feeling the love.

p.s. I love you.

Well. That was a night of something other than rest. lol Nightmares woke me around 2 am. It was almost three before sleep caught up with me again. My dreams, thankfully, shifted gears, but… the content was strange (very) and fantastical… something about a church service breaking out into a raucous, violent, drunken party in the basement of a building in which corporate performance reviews were about to be given out under (for some reason) strict secrecy. There were Leprechauns in attendance (whether they were party-goers or work colleagues wasn’t at all clear), and for some reason, the professional folks were all wearing pajamas, and big screen tvs were showing Saturday morning cartoons. Very odd. Let’s never discuss it again. LOL

…Being awake, sipping a hot cup of coffee, seems a relief, and a clear return to normalcy. πŸ™‚ It’s enough. I yawn through these first sips of coffee, tired after the 3rd (4th?) consecutive night of fairly bad sleep. These things often go in cycles, so I refrain from taking it at all personally, and figure, more than likely, the rough sleep is due to the injured shoulder; it is a pain that is disrupting my sleep. I feel it every time I try to turn over, every time I lay on my right side, and my sleep ends up interrupted, restless, and not very deep. Lots of opportunity for dreams, and yes, nightmares. I remind myself that I already have a doctor’s appointment scheduled, and look at my calendar. It’s not on my calendar, so I look it up online, and add it – and invite “my work self”, so it’ll be on my calendar in the office also. πŸ™‚

Nothing to see here – all routine human stuff, the business of living life. πŸ™‚ I’m okay with “average”, “routine”, and “normal”, and drama is not welcome here…so… yeah. I get back to sipping coffee, and feeling this shoulder ache. lol

My thoughts careen through memories and random stream-of-consciousness weirdness for a time.

I breathe, exhale, relax, and sit present with the pain in my shoulder, and the tinnitus in my ears. It’s some time before I realize some of what I’m hearing is traffic beyond the window, and some of it is the fan on my computer. Another sip of coffee, contemplating the day ahead, gently (work has been intense, lately). The cup returns to the stone coaster on the desk with an unexpectedly loud clunk, and I shoot a suspicious look at cup, coaster, and fingers still wrapped through and around the white porcelain handle, motionless – as though freezing for a brief instant somehow mitigates the loud noise in the quiet room. LOL

…I wonder, for the first time, why the hell I am using a stone coaster with a porcelain coffee mug, early in the mornings, in a very quiet environment, when I am specifically cultivating the quiet? This seems an inexplicably counter-productive choice. Shouldn’t I be using a soft, silent, coaster, perhaps of cork… or… fake fur…with googly eyes? I quake silently with mirth at the mental image of a fake fur coaster. (Omg, I need more sleep. lol)

Something about the mirthful moment is a reminder of recent inspiration; my Traveling Partner shared something artistic (a painting technique), and I found it inspiring, fascinating, and potentially very suited to my artistic approach. I’m excited about the weekend to come; maybe I will spend some of it in the studio? The idea becomes a smile, another sip of coffee, and a moment – it almost becomes a plan. My eye roams the room… paint… glitter… glow in the dark… canvases… Yeah, I’m overdue to get some creative work done. I think I screwed myself attempted to exorcise the toxic demon that is an X of mine by way of paint on canvas; an individual so utterly vile, so irredeemably poisonous, that even finishing the representation was hard to approach, and the likeness sits unfinished on my easel, holding me back. Maybe I should “finish” it with some quick machete work, instead? The idea amuses me, maybe enough to finish it properly, let go, and really, finally, completely move on.

…It’s the forgiveness that’s hard, isn’t it? Once we have been wounded badly enough, deeply enough, damaged thoroughly enough, the forgiveness becomes… difficult. It’s hard to stay with the awareness that the forgiveness isn’t about the person who hurt us, not really, it’s about us, ourselves, letting go. Forgiveness doesn’t absolve someone of the wrongs they have done. It’s not an excuse, and does not condone bad behavior. From my perspective, the forgiveness simply allows us to move on, to admit to our pain, to refuse someone who has injured us any further opportunity to command our attention through their hurtful acts; we can walk on, and leave them to deal with their own pain, their own chaos and damage. Not my circus, not my monkeys. It’s a letting go that mitigates some of the damage, releases us from the powerful hold someone who has hurt us can maintain, and lets us get on with our own lives. There is no lasting requirement to see the forgiven one again, ever, or interact with them, or pretend we were not hurt, or to allow any further damage. I think what makes forgiveness hard is that it is clearly more kind, and more compassionate, than vengeance or punishment – but even though either of those (or both) may be entirely deserved, they do a lot of damage to the person needing to deliver them. It’s a bother, and a weird puzzle.

I can’t have vengeance, and I can’t punish that X, ever, enough to “make things right” – there is no amount of punishment available that could do that work. It is what it is. (Maybe we’re all someone’s villain?) Forgiveness tastes bitter in my mouth, like unripe fruit; I haven’t been ready. That portrait has mocked me, now, for months. That X does not “deserve” forgiveness… then I remember; my X may not “deserve” the relief that forgiveness may bring… but I do. πŸ™‚ Forgiveness is for the one forgiving. Forgiveness allows us to walk on. I guess it’s time. After all, what are they to me, now? Nothing and no one; it’s time to let them go in a proper and final way. I’ll feel so much better – and I’ll finish that damned painting. LOL

I glance into my empty coffee mug. Obviously. It’s time to begin again. πŸ™‚

Well, shit. I didn’t manage to fit 10 minutes into my work day for meditation, yesterday. It was a busy day, no doubt, but… couldn’t I have managed to make that work? Looking back, it’s clear I could have, and equally obvious I did not; I was there. lol

I’ll try again today. πŸ™‚ Each journey has many steps.

I got home, and enjoyed a lovely relaxed evening with my Traveling Partner. Overlooked meditation, in favor of warmth and camaraderie. Shit. Damn it. LOL Clearly, I need more practice with my practice. πŸ˜€

Today is another day. I’m open to making it a good one – and that includes getting my regular meditation practice back on track. Totally doable. Entirely about choices, and actions. It’s well within my own power to meet this need for myself. πŸ™‚

I’m just saying; I’m human. It’s a thing. “Perfect” isn’t on my bucket list as an achievable goal. I just keep practicing; we become what we practice.

I sip my coffee and contemplate the recent days of camping, and lessons learned.

Long, savored moments of golden light and blue sky linger in my memory.

One understanding that returned home with me is simply how little I truly need to feel content. My contentment is not built on a foundation of material goods, branded items to fill spaces, or a huge bank balance; it’s more about moments, experiences, and connection. Even in solitude, these are the things that matter most: relationships, presence, and people. The things and the stuff? All distractions, nothing more. Useful tools, at best. Very heavy baggage at worst.

I smile and look around me. How much of “all of this” do I really need? Less than I have – I know that with certainty, because I’ve lived with (and on) less. A lot less. No doubt I will one day do so again. The wheel turns, and this too shall pass. It’s not worth becoming attached to “stuff”. Comfort also has real value; being uncomfortable is unpleasant and stressful. It tests us. There’s a balance to strike. “Sufficiency” is the word I use for that balance – having enough, letting it be enough, valuing it for what it is (and nothing more) without striving or struggling, comfortable, and contented. It’s a nice goal; I can easily visualize what “sufficiency” looks like to me.

…Still. I could do better. I have room to improve. Room to struggle less. Room to let go of more baggage and bullshit. Room to be more present. Room to do my “best”, more skillfully, more often. Room to be more content, more of the time. Room to take greater care. Every new day is a “growth opportunity”, in a very real and personal way. The path stretches out ahead of me. I finish my coffee, thinking about the work day ahead, and giving thought to where 10 minutes of meditation may fit in, and what choices I can make to be more the woman I most want to be, to find balance, sufficiency, and contentment, and to be present in all my relationships with my whole heart. Years of experience, still practicing. lol

It’s already time to begin again.

 

I slept decently well, and more or less through the night. My coffee is delicious, mild, and the mug comfortingly warm in my hands. I make a point to let go of a small, fairly petty, moment of resentment that attempts to develop; I changed the grinder settings for the coffee grinder at my partner’s suggestion, and my coffee this morning is better. I wasn’t resenting his suggestion, only the lack of understanding that I hadn’t set the grinder as it was with any deliberate intention; it had gotten jostled, and since then I haven’t gotten the settings quite as I like them. I’m pleased with the current settings. The resentment is irrelevant, and lingers only because there was no moment of explicit understanding to satisfy them, when I spoke up. It’s silly to hold on to that, and not at all helpful. πŸ™‚

It was a good weekend. Short. Well, the same length as usual, but feels short. It was a weekend well-spent. I got good rest. I enjoyed a couple great trail walks. I enjoyed the company of my Traveling Partner. It was pleasant.

I woke in a weird place. Maybe it was my dreams? I just feel vaguely… out of step, or as if there is “something going on” that I’m not actually noticing. I know from experience that it doesn’t do to invest time and emotion into such things; they are often illusions, and where they are not wholly imagined, they will be revealed or sort themselves out, in due time. So… I let that go too.

I think about the honeysuckle blooming along the trail I walked this weekend; it reminded me of childhood and “back home”.

I take a breath, exhale slowly, relax, and sip my coffee. I repeat this a handful of times, until I find myself feeling strangely silly; the inclusion of the coffee makes me giggle, although, for me, it is quite common on a Monday morning. The weather report forecasts a very hot day. I’m grateful for air conditioning – although, and this is true, I’m also grateful for blue skies, and sunny days. πŸ˜€ Gratitude to spare.

The vague unsettled feeling I woke with begins to dissipate.

It’s another work week, and already time to begin again. πŸ™‚

Too hot… Tooooo hot… My coffee’s too hot, Lady… πŸ˜‰

Seriously, though? My coffee is too hot. lol …And it’s okay to be amused, to be silly, to be whimsical, to make jokes, to be merry, even in the morning, yes and all day, too. Lighten up whenΒ  you can, enjoy the moments that don’t weigh you down, and savor those, too. Even if – especially if – your heart is heavy with grief, pain, or trauma; those lighter moments can help us through some really dark times.

For clarity, because I assume by this point you are somewhat familiar with my whimsy (and word play, and over-use of metaphors), I’ll explicitly point out that this morning is merry and quite delightful, thus far. Neither the song I linked, nor the context of my experience right now, is weighed down by pain, or grief, or trauma – I’m just saying letting your heart be light when it will is a healthy thing. πŸ™‚

Yesterday was as easy as the day before was difficult. It was a lovely day, summery, fun, fulfilling, exciting… did I mention the fun? And the fulfillment? A good day.

If you’ve made the whole thing about the job, you may be missing the point. πŸ™‚

…Good days also end. They come around again. However dark times feel in one moment, it’s only one moment. There’ll be another. We can make choices, change choices, put verbs in motion, adjust our perspective, and even walk away from what doesn’t work. We have so much power over our own lives, often more than we use, certainly more than we recognize, when we feel hurt, trapped, or held back. How often is it our own choices allowing us to be hurt, trapped, and held back? (Sometimes it isn’t, let’s be real about that, and the harshness of our circumstances can be imposed upon us by bad lawmaking, by human nastiness, and by the choices of others, just as it can be by anything we’ve done, ourselves – also a thing, and yeah, even there, our decision-making can alter our experience of our circumstances to a greater or lesser degree, and we still have tremendous power to change the future.)

“This too shall pass,” applies even to the best of times. The best, sunniest days, eventually see the sun set. It’ll rise again. The wheel turns. There’s a new beginning just over the horizon. With this being the case, then it is also a given that it’s true of our darkest times. I mean, generally… there’s also death to contend with, eventually, no argument there. I don’t have much to say about that, and existential angst can get out of hand pretty quickly if we’re overly concerned about that.

Oh, nice… my coffee is cool enough to drink. I smile merrily. In this moment, that matters. That’s okay. I think all I’m getting at this morning is… be sure to have a good time, too. Enjoy living life. Enjoy the sunshine, and the rain. Enjoy this human being that you are – even while you work to become the person you most want to be. There is only practice, there is no “perfect” – enjoy the journey (you may not ever reach the destination).

The clock keeps ticking. It’s a new day, a new beginning, a new chance to be the woman I most want to be. It feels like summer.

…It feels like time to begin again. πŸ˜€