Archives for posts with tag: The Art of Being

It’s a groggy slow-ish sort of morning. The commute was easy. The coffee adequate to the purpose. My thoughts are still fuzzy around the edges and glitchy with sampled dreams from a night of continuous sleep. I listen to the sounds of freeway traffic beyond the window of the office, as I get my day started.

It is too early for deep thoughts, or complex emotions. I still have them. Attempting to “stuff them down” or suppress them is ineffective; I neither manage to entirely put them aside, nor do I satisfy them. I redirect my attention to work tasks, but find myself still distracted by the internal demands for my attention. Interesting. Clearly, there’s something on my mind that wants to be given attention. “Another time.” I tell myself, but I also know how fickle this brain can be; later today I won’t even remember this moment. It’s such a small thing. Finite. Momentary. Fleeting. Unimportant. 🙂 I let it go, again.

I sip my coffee. As of tomorrow, a year at this job. Nice. 🙂 I’m still enjoying it. Even nicer, still. 😀

This is also a moment to recognize that my Traveling Partner and I have been close – intimate friends, lovers, partners – for 10 years, now. It’s just a little mind-blowing to recall where we were as people, ten years ago. Who we hung out with. Where we lived. What our relationships were like. What sorts of things we were up to, day-to-day. Life is quite different, then, and now. A reminder that so much more of life is built on impermanence than ever rested on an unchanging “happily ever after”. 🙂 I’m not unhappy about the changes over time – most of it has been an obvious improvement, with the occasional detour through challenging circumstances that provoked a lot of personal (and shared) growth.

…10 years, though…? That’s quite a chunk of lifetime. I sip my coffee and wonder how often my Traveling Partner questions the desires and decisions that brought us together, and keep us together now? Does he ever wonder what life would be like without the encumbrances of attachment? Does he ever yearn for some place or experience that feels out of reach in the context of our relationship? Does he feel loved and supported in our relationship? Does he ever consider walking away from “all of this” – not out of any hurt or animosity, but simply to feel the path beneath his feet take him somewhere entirely new?

I glare into my coffee mug with some annoyance… cold office-quality drip coffee is less than ideally satisfying. Another sip finishes it. I expect I’ll get another cup, anyway, soon enough. I laugh out loud in the stillness of my office, reminded of cups of coffee that were both much worse for drinking, and far more costly (than “free”)… the moment of gratitude becomes a smile of appreciation. This is definitely one of those “this could be much worse” moments. I yield to the gratitude, and invest my attention there. It’s very nice having coffee available. It’s quite lovely to have enjoyed 10 years with my Traveling Partner – and I hope we enjoy many more, together. It’s a comfortably secure feeling to have a job I enjoy, and to be with it for an entire year and still enjoying it. All of it very much “enough” – it’s a good life. I’m grateful for it – I’ve been in far worse circumstances.

…This coffee cup isn’t going to refill itself. I suppose it’s time to begin again. 🙂

 

I’m sipping my morning coffee thinking about pandemics. lol Weird start, but whatever; it’s starting point enough for the purpose. 😉

Most of us will not ever have the chance to address an outbreak of disease, or some scary new pandemic virus, by curing it. The odds are against that, for sure; few of us are those doctors, scientists, or researchers, even if we happen to be, generally speaking, doctors, scientists, or researchers. Just saying. It’s a bit like football; lots of people love the game, few of those make it to the NFL to play it. So… what chance does a “regular person” have to seriously fight disease? Well, how about all the small things any of us can do? Washing our hands thoroughly, and regularly. Always having well-washed hands to prepare food. Covering coughs and sneezes (no, for real though, and not just putting up a hand and creating a “cone of death” to blow germs past). Taking exceptional care of our own health, and the health of loved ones too young to do so themselves. Keeping a clean kitchen. A clean home environment. Avoiding endlessly re-using glasses, mugs, cups, and other drinking vessels, and eating utensils. Avoiding and controlling insect vectors. Avoiding the spread of zoonotics. (Yes, including not allowing your own dogs to lick your mouth, and washing your hands after emptying litter boxes or cleaning up shit or vomit. Seriously, people, what the hell?) All of these small steps matter for controlling the spread of disease. We may not, individually, have much shot at being the person who cures a deadly virus, but we can sure be part of controlling its spread, through our individual commitment to good health practices. It’s small, but it’s truly something we can each accomplish, and it’s a worthy endeavor.

So… having said that… You may not be able to cure “anger”, but there are practices you can practice that result in experiencing less of that, and in being less easily provoked to anger. 🙂

A lot of things, actually, work this way; there are small steps, small actions, simple practices, and a journey of incremental change over time, that any one of us can make. Meditation. Exercise. More nutritious healthy eating habits. Education. Emotional resilience. Small changes still result in change. Practices, being practiced, change who we are. Sure, it’s slow, and it’s small, and it can seem inconsequential, until that moment arrives when change, having been made, becomes obvious. 🙂

It’s actually a pretty pleasant thought, on a pretty pleasant Tuesday morning; I can make big (future) changes by way of small changes in my practices (right now). The choice to practice being the person I most want to be is mine to make, in every moment. If I miss my mark in this moment, there’s another moment yet to arrive – and I can give it another go, then. More practice? More skill. Over time, change is made. That seems almost effortless as words on page, and I don’t want to mislead anyone; there are verbs involved. Real effort. A commitment to change reflected in real choices, not just wishful thinking. I get it wrong, a lot. I suppose most people do. I keep at it; the things I most want to be, I keep making that attempt, knowing that eventually, I’ll get there. The things I most want not to be, I practice not doing/being those things; I practice what is antithetical to those things, on my path to becoming something quite other than that. Best to keep an eye on the general direction of such progress; it would not do to become something worse. 🙂

The morning unfolds with my thoughts. I check the time. I was up early, and have a moment for a second coffee at home, before the drive to the office, downtown. I feel rested. Relaxed. I feel an ease sense of readiness, for the day ahead. I like the feeling, so I sit with that awhile longer. 🙂 And after this moment of contentment? I’ll begin again. 🙂 It’s always a good time for more practice. 😉

It’s quiet this morning. The start to this day feels… muted. Not dull or in any way a failure to satisfy, it’s just… uncomplicated. Serene. Relaxed, but purposeful – and quiet. I sip my coffee… contentedly? Something short of satisfaction or enthusiasm, but far from discontent, sorrow, or ennui. I’m here. Present. Awake. Aware. Ready.

There is no need to chase something better, right now. This is entirely okay. Adequate. Sufficient. Enough. My coffee isn’t great, but it’s good. The weather is neither cold nor warm, and although it’s not raining, it probably will, later – and clearly has, during the night. I feel “between things” in a comfortable way.

I am considering a moment I shared with my Traveling Partner last night. Strangely emotional. Unexpectedly considerate, and aware. Honest. Almost tender… maybe a bit too honest to really be tender, though. It was very real. It was a moment of love, wearing its most honest face. I keep using that word. “Honest.” It is a quality of appreciate about us.

I remember my tears welling up; they were deeply felt, but not sorrowful. I give some thought to his frustration with my tears, and wonder if he understands that I really heard him, and so very much appreciate what he was saying – not just the words, but also the loving intent, and the tenderness implied by that. I feel cared for, and visible. I consider the words, the meaning, the intent. I consider the implications. I consider my self-care practices, and all the things in life I enjoy, that I sometimes needlessly defer because… well, why exactly? Isn’t that the point of our conversation, in the first place? To be sure to make a point to do the things in life I enjoy and want to do, and also embrace and enjoy love, within the context of this lovely partnership?

I smile and finish my coffee. The work day is only just beginning, and there is much to do. This is a good moment to begin again. 🙂

I woke smiling when the alarm went off. I got up and was through most of morning routine before I realized I’d forgotten to put on my glasses. Most especially hilarious, because without them I really can’t see much at all. lol Nonetheless, I contentedly went through the motions, showering, choosing clothes, dressing, making coffee… then noticed, when I was watching the pour-over process, and the dense brown foam on top of the grounds seemed… sort of fuzzy. I thought then to ask myself that important “why?” question, and realized I just hadn’t done this one specific small task I generally do, immediately upon waking, every day, since…oh… like… “always” (since I was about 8? 9? My near-sightedness was identified fairly late).

…I’m still having an excellent morning. 🙂 Enough is, as the definition suggests, enough.

I sip my coffee. Check my email and unsubscribe from some things I no longer read, or care to have clogging up my inbox. Have a quick look at the news. Write… nothing of great consequence, or momentum, just a few words on a page.

What a lovely weekend it was. My smile deepens. I think about love. I think about home cooking. I think about contentment and joy. I think about movies, and sharing them with my Traveling Partner. I think about how it is definitely the sharing that matters most, it’s less about the movies. Another smile, another sip of coffee. Another Monday. 🙂

A handful of healthy practices may not save the world, however much they have transformed this individual human experience of life. I’m still fuzzy on the “save the world” plan details, anyway. I’m sometimes not at all sure we actually can… but… I’ll take contentment over misery, any Monday it’s offered to me. It’s enough. I’ll work on what’s in front of me that needs my attention, and then, when the time comes (and it always does), I’ll begin again. 🙂 So far that’s been working out nicely, in general. 😀

…I glance at the time, and finish my coffee.

It’s a quiet, relaxed, weekend. I’m enjoying it. There’s nothing much of consequence going on, and I’m okay with that. My walk yesterday tested me, and I hit some goals and unlocked a new level of achievements over the steep, hilly terrain. Today’s walk was level, paved, and at the end, rainy. Both were satisfying. Both provided new perspective, and things to ponder.

Consider what it means that it is necessary to put up a barrier to prevent people crossing this creek using this pipe. 

I spent both walks smiling and thinking. They were not exactly “effortless” experiences, but more relaxed and easy feeling than walking had gotten to be. That’s comforting knowledge; I can still choose my path, still walk it, still make gains on my more out-of-reach goals. It’s not too late for incremental change over time. 🙂

If it’s this “easy”, how is it we need so much practice? How is it we are so… human??

So… I seek to choose my practices with care, even trying to eat healthier, exercise more generally, and making each moment count towards practicing to the be the human being I most want to be… it definitely requires practice. I’m okay with that; I become what I practice. (You do, too.)

What are you practicing? Is it time to begin again?