Archives for posts with tag: the map is not the world

I’m sipping coffee on a gray Saturday. I enjoyed the first rain shower since moving, and delighted in the tickling spatter of summer rain drops in the morning chill. I sat down to write… but didn’t. I got distracted by the flowers of spring-to-come that aren’t yet planted in a landscape that isn’t yet supported by a clear vision. It is what it is; I enjoy flowers. 🙂

Other gardens, other flowers.

I’m not yet sure what I want of our wee front yard and garden space. Something like a cottage garden, I think, maybe…

Sometimes the simplest things bring great joy.

…or perhaps grand flowers in bold colors and formal borders…?

Plans are best supported with some sort of coherent vision… a direction to go…

Regardless of the eventual outcome of however many weeks and weekends of daydreaming and thought go into the eventual plan that puts me on the (garden) path to that future reality, there are choices involved. There is effort to be made. There is work, and care, and craft, and problem-solving. There will be, too, lovely moments to enjoy flowers, along the way. That’s sort of the point. 🙂

Those lovely moments… aren’t they nearly always “sort of the point”… of all of this thing we call living life? I mean… sure, we’ve all got problems, challenges, conflict, confusion… things to sort out, and things to resolve. That’s just real. I’m not at all convinced any of that amounts to “the point” of all of this fuss and bother that is “life”. Personally? I think it is “about” the moments, the joys, the collection of experiences that become our treasured memories, the relationships we build and share with other traveler’s along the way…

…And the flowers.

So, I’ve got some thoughts, and a wish list or two… and a day dream. With patience, it’ll become a vision, then a plan, then a course of action – a path. It seems so simple in the abstract. Life is about that, too; the complex and the simple, and how often they are the same thing, viewed differently, and how often a clear path changes the journey.

…My Traveling Partner comes in and more or less “takes over” this moment, and my writing, to make some useful changes to my workstation. 🙂 I think it’s time to begin again.

Friday morning. I’m groggy. Sipping coffee. Waiting for the dawn. One more work shift before the weekend. I am eager to sleep in. lol

All week I’ve been sleeping very well, restfully and deeply, but forced to wake to the alarm, and start the work day. By the end of an evening, all I am thinking about is sleeping. I wake in the morning, thinking about how much I want to go back to sleep. During the day, I am mildly distracted by thoughts in the background… of sleep. It would be funny if it weren’t so… “real”.

My dreams have been lively, detailed, and there have been a lot of those. Few nightmares, just dreams. My sleep is good, and this is fairly rare for me, and I am definitely getting both joy and wellness from the experience of good sleep… Damn, I really want to sleep in tomorrow. 🙂

How do I get there from here?

I sip my coffee and contemplate “sleep hygiene” and how little it sometimes seems to matter with regard to whether I am sleeping well and deeply through the nights. I think about the sorts of things that often wake me “prematurely” or “early” on a weekend day, and how little control I really have over those sorts of things. My mind wanders from there to how often I have set my sights on a goal, or destination, and found myself on a journey that could not possibly lead to that result or location, generally. As true of sleep as of anything, I suppose.

…At least I am sleeping well…

My yawn splits my face and I almost fail to stop the hand holding a coffee mug heading quickly toward that wide open mouth that is very much unprepared to drink coffee… disaster averted, and no coffee spilled, I stifle my laughter (silly human primate) to avoid waking my Traveling Partner, asleep in the adjacent room. I think about the days preceding this one. I think about the days ahead, and about life and love. I am content and joyful. It’s a pleasant start to a Friday.

I sip my coffee, quietly. The morning unfolds quite gently. Evidence of changing seasons appears as my reflection in the window, instead of seeing the sky beginning to lighten; it is still quite dark at this hour, now, already. “Summer is here” isn’t much different than “autumn approaches”, at this hour of morning. 🙂 I find myself wondering what autumn will look and feel like here… and yearning, ever so mildly, for the rain to come. It’s been several hot days, and I miss the rain. It hasn’t rained since we moved here, even though just days before we moved out of the duplex, it had rained steadily for many days. My delight that the rain stopped for the move has waned. lol The move is over… I’d like some rain, please!

I don’t control the weather.

I let the morning unfold with thoughts and reflections on how very much in life is beyond my control… and how very much is actually within my control… and how to make the most of the distinction between those. I think about missed opportunities to make a decision, and how those circumstances became “decisions” that altered the path I was on at that time, and beyond. I find myself grateful to be where I am, with the partner I have.

…Damn, I hope the entire day is as pleasant as these moments that begin it. 🙂 Unfortunately, I can’t linger in this that now… it has already passed, and a new moment is being lived. Another nice moment. 🙂 Another new beginning…

What will today be like? I guess I have to make that journey to answer that question. 🙂

I’m sipping my coffee, quietly reading some news. I give up on it quickly; most of the news is at best a bit of a downer, and at worst holds some amount of potential to be a significant mood-wrecker. I stifle a sneeze, and wonder why I haven’t put a box of tissues in my studio, yet? No, I’m not ill. It’s just a stray sneeze. Dust? Or allergens of some sort. I return to my coffee and my thoughts.

Where does this path lead?

I took my first walk in the countryside since the move, on Saturday. It was a lovely day for it. The entire weekend was sunny. Saturday was pleasantly warm and somewhat mild. Sunday was ferociously hot for the area. I enjoyed both days quite a lot. The walk was lovely, and I am glad I got out on the trail, although most of the walk was simply around and about the new neighborhood. 🙂 Plenty to see, all of it new, most of it entirely ordinary. 🙂 Small pleasures still count as pleasant.

There is the usual assortment of roadside flowers in bloom to be seen along the way.

I walked a bit more than a mile. Far enough to walk a new path, to see some new points of view, and to wave at new neighbors.

I crossed a small foot bridge passing over a small branch of the creek that flows past our house.

The walk was enough to make my ankle ache, by the time I had returned home. Still, I wasn’t in much pain this weekend, and as improvements in quality of life go, a reduction in pain is a good one to enjoy. So, I spent the weekend enjoying that. 🙂

I sip my coffee, now, enjoying my recollections of the weekend just past, and thinking about the day ahead. Later on, I’ll drive “into the city”, which I’m not looking forward to at all. It’s just a necessary errand. Portland is seriously “stirred up” right now, and I’ve no interest in becoming mixed up in that chaos. I looked over my route, yesterday evening, and verified it does not need to take me through the heart of things, down near the courthouse, before confirming my plans. Portland, Oregon, has a lively protest culture, and I have long respected and valued the willingness of Portland’s citizens to take a stand against injustice. That feeling does not diminish the experiences of profound inconvenience and considerable risk that go along with attempting to pass through an area filled with protesters, counter-protesters, and aggressive law enforcement. I make a point of keeping my distance, unless I am intending to be an active participant. Safer.

I notice that thoughts of protests, protesters, and conflict, have caused my heart to pound and my breathing to become shallow. I take a deep breath, exhale slowly, and relax. There is no threat here, just me and this cup of coffee, which I am enjoying very much. I think about my Saturday morning walk, instead, and feel my shoulders relax, and my heartbeat slow down. I sip my coffee and begin to plan my day.

…Pretty routine stuff, but I’ll point out that generally speaking, on the average, things tend to be pretty routine, day-to-day, most particularly if I allow them to be so. I could keep myself constantly in a state of tension, ready for a fight, poised on the edge of drama, constantly examining my experience for threat of danger, or revisiting past conversations looking for an enemy to confront… I know people who do. I once did, myself. It’s not actually a pleasant or comfortable way to live, and it didn’t seem to enhance my quality of life at all – and it didn’t reduce the danger or drama in my life, or do much to actually prepare me to deal with those sorts of things, in fact. It was just uncomfortable and emotionally messy. I’m glad I gave up those practices (and they are experiences that do require practice) in favor of practices that tend to tilt life more in the direction of contentment, joy, ease, and satisfaction in life. Turned out that life itself did not need to change much – it was more about my perspective on life needing a change (and how I treated myself in the context of the events of my life). 🙂

I finish this cup of coffee, on an ordinary enough Monday, beginning a routine sort of day. It’s enough. I begin again. 🙂

I’m sipping my coffee, and considering words and pictures. I gave up on reading the news. I woke to the alarm, regrettable but necessary. My Traveling Partner was up shortly after I was (very early for him). I made him coffee, and returned to mine. Quiet morning. I don’t feel quite awake, yet.

Life in the time of pandemic continues to be strange. My hair is returning to it’s natural color as it grows out. Going to a salon to have it cut and colored doesn’t seem like a good idea. It hangs in my face, annoying me. I push it back, it flops back into my eyes, obscuring my glasses. This is definitely one way of altering my perspective (or point of view). It doesn’t get me anywhere I need to go, but it’s definitely a change. lol

Living in a new place has a lot of opportunities for new perspective, or a change in my point of view. Small stuff, mostly. Light switches in “strange” locations will soon become familiar, but for now, they are jarring reminders of change. Differences in light and shadows at various times of day are another shift in perspective. New, different rooms, and making use of space quite differently due to having a bit more of it, all shift my perspective a small amount. The overall effect can be unsettling at times. I’m letting the days go by as gently as I can while I get used to things.

There’s a new view, from a new deck, and new trees to gaze into, across a new distance…

Summer is lush and green.

I’ve begun snapping pictures of a particular perspective, from a particular point of view, often…

…As I once did from a particular point of view along my walking commute in Portland…

…This new view is lush, green, and yes, framed by trees. It’s actually mostly trees. And sky. Trees and sky. It’s a nice point of view to have, I think…

Trees and sky on a recent summer day.

It’s not the sort of fancy view that a shining golden city at sunrise might seem to be…on the other hand, it has a simplicity and easygoing beauty to it that feels relaxed, natural, and perhaps just a bit less likely to be hiding an assortment of unpleasant surprises in its distant beauty. 🙂

It’s a view with some moods and variety, even in summer.

A new point of view, in a very practical and literal way – my new point of view – a place to stand, gaze outward while I reflect inward. A new source of inspiration. “Is the sky still blue?”, a friend once asked me in a moment of heartache and other shades of blue. It was, then, and it is now. Lovely shades of blue on quiet summer days. It’s still a lot of change, and there’s so much to get used to… but I already love this view, so very much. 🙂 It’s enough.

I’m smiling as my Traveling Partner walks away. Love is a nice thing to have and enjoy – and work for. More than “enough”. I sip my coffee and yield to this moment of love and gratitude. My eye wanders to the time. As much as I’d rather just sit with this one lovely moment awhile longer, it’s apparently time to begin again. 🙂

I’m awake. I’m groggy. I’m drinking coffee. My calendar is full. My list of things to do seems as long as it has been for days. We’re definitely moving. In past moves, this is the part of moving when the self-care tasks fall by the wayside, and I typically find myself trapped in a cycle of “overdrive” and exhaustion, working unrelentingly until I collapse for minutes or hours, then back at it for every minute I can squeeze out of this fragile meat-based machinery, until fatigue finally nails me to a bed, a couch, or the floor, and I sleep for a few hours, and repeat the process day after day until the move is completed. Then, I spend days feeling disrupted, moody, bewildered, and overwhelmed, as I get used to a new place. Bleh. It’s not fun, but it’s “worked okay” for me, for many values of “okay”, generally. It’s often simply what I’ve had to work with, or perhaps I just didn’t understand it could be done very differently?

New day, new move, and a very different plan. My Traveling Partner keeps me self-care focused (“Hey, you’ve been out here working in the sun for awhile, are you drinking enough water? Have you taken a break?””Have you eaten something today?”). We each work on the things we’ve committed to with real purpose. We take time together to chill, to play, to laugh, to consume comfortable amounts of media content, and to enjoy each other. Hell, I even slept restfully last night, and woke at a fairly normal time this morning! He woke in a good mood, himself (we’re both fairly grumpy, many mornings, until we sort ourselves out and are properly awake). This move doesn’t just feel “different” – it feels good. 😀

I sip my coffee and look at my list. Nodding to myself, I double-check the details (“when does the donation drop-off open, today?”). My Traveling Partner comes into the studio, and says something pleasant, and rubs my neck for a few minutes, and reminds me about my posture without nagging. He puts on music in the other room, and I feel myself beginning to really wake up for the day ahead. There’s so much to do, and in a practical sense, with all the paperwork out of the way, the real work “begins” – building on the real work we’ve been doing for weeks, boxing and packing things. I smile to myself. There are certainly a lot of verbs involved, and this time? This time, those include self-care verbs, and verbs to do with love and loving, and shared verbs – so many shared verbs. It feels good to have my Traveling Partner’s help with this move. The last couple had some fairly poignant lonely moments (his, for him, too, I know). This feels very different.

My smile turns to a grin, and I feel filled with joy. It’s already time to begin again. 😀