Archives for posts with tag: there are verbs involved

The rain continues to fall. I’m okay with that. I play songs that seem relevant to the experience of the rainy morning I’m enjoying. Songs that remind me to “be like water“, and songs that are “on the nose” and songs that are metaphorical.

Being a student is a good beginning, generally.

Being a student is a good beginning, generally.

I’m enjoying the morning before returning to my studies for the day. I smile, thinking of my traveling partner. We both really needed some downtime, and we’re both really getting what we each need; being individuals, what we need differs somewhat. It matters a great deal that we’ve made room for each other to have the experiences we each need, even where those differ pretty radically. “Go have fun doing what you do!” with a genuine smile and real enthusiasm is another way to say “I love you”. I most particularly enjoy the later opportunity to share those experiences with each other in conversation, pictures, and tales of adventure. 🙂

There is more to learn than I can know in one lifetime.

There is more to learn than I can know in one lifetime.

The heavy gray clouds break open briefly revealing blue skies beyond, and I look out across the meadow and the marsh. Will there be sunshine today? The blue seam of sky closes like a zipper. Perhaps not. 🙂

What about this moment right here? I breathe deeply, relax, and feel the smile tugging at the corners of my mouth – one that tends, these days, to be waiting for any opportunity to reveal itself. I’m okay with that. An authentic smile feels as good as a forced one feels strained and unpleasant; either has the power to create an emotional experience, just as our emotional experience can be reflected on our face, in a smile.

We become what we practice.

We become what we practice.

I find myself “stuck”, gazing out the window into the sky, watching the clouds shift, roil, and skitter past on the wind. The autumn foliage, gold, russet, and amber hues, is shaken loose on the wind, tree tops swaying, leaves raining down. Already there are bare branches reaching skyward, tree tops naked, silhouetted against the dramatic cottony whites and grays of the stormy sky. Autumn. Definitely autumn now.

Begin again. Somewhere. One choice. One change. One book. One moment. The day and the opportunity are yours.

Begin again. Somewhere. One choice. One change. One book. One moment. The day and the opportunity are yours.

There is still time to start laundry before the seminar begins for the day. There is time for a lovely hot shower, and a bite of breakfast. There is time for a second coffee – even a third. There is no rush; this is my life. Today is a good day to slow down and enjoy it.

This morning is Saturday. I woke to the alarm. I’ve got a seminar all weekend. This is a treat for me on several levels: it is taught by a neuroscientist whose work has been important for me over the past almost 3 years, it is on the topic of positive neuroplasticity, I enrolled because I wanted to myself, it has been planned for many weeks, and learning feels amazing. 3 entire days of education – for me! Well… my original plan had been to attend all three days of live stream, and when I returned to the workforce I had planned (and requested) the day off… but… turns out I actually really enjoy my job, so day 3 (which is a Monday) I’ll catch up with on the replay. I don’t want to miss Monday in the office.

Raindrops on roses; I make time for thoughts of love.

Raindrops on roses; I make time for thoughts of love.

…When did I become this person? When did words like “committed”, “thoughtful”, “compassionate”, “positive”, and “dedicated” become part of who I am? When did I become comfortable seeing myself this way? Using these words? I mean, over time, sure, change happens…and choosing to practice new practices, embrace new ideas, and walk on from what doesn’t work is sure to lead to change (and growth too) … but… when did I become the woman facing me in the mirror today? I feel differently about her than I felt about her in years past. I smile when I think so, because aside from understanding her a bit more, and practicing very different practices from a practical perspective… I still feel her presence solidly as “me”, without any particular sense of some sort of “growth and development timeline”. 🙂

I think about the “on-boarding process” in the context of professional life; our personal lives are much messier, less organized, but I suspect it is more a matter of not writing it all down with hyperlinks, in bite-sized pieces, that can be copied over and over again and shared with each new human being, more than it is that no process exists. It strikes me now what a wonderful thing it is that life doesn’t really work that way; no handy rule book, no map, no Sherpa – not really, though over a lifetime haven’t I had many guides? Strangers, friends, lovers, family, teachers, casual passers-by, great books… hell, even the moments themselves and the metaphors I so delight in, end up being part of this whole being and becoming process.

Practices matter. Choices matter. Words, too, our words matter. How we present ourselves, and the assumptions we make, matter. How we treat ourselves matters. How life feels and how we treat others, builds on all of that. 🙂

Letting the rain fall without fretting about it.

Letting the rain fall without fretting about it.

It’s a rainy day. A good day to enjoy the weather from the other side of window glass. A good day for a third coffee. A good day to study, to learn, to write. A good day for casual grammar, and a positive outlook. A good day for art, for science, for love. A good day to let the rain fall. Well… it’s a good day for all those things for me; we are each having our own experience.

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This weekend I will study. I will be a student. I will see the world through a beginner’s eyes. I hope to learn more about what matters most. Then… I will practice. 🙂

 

I crashed soon after arriving home last night, but still much later than I generally intend to on a work night. I was sound asleep soon after that. Mmm… sleep….

I woke abruptly some time later, in a ridiculous amount of pain, and panic; my calves (both) were cramping up and as any animal might, I woke with a sense of anxiety, the physical pain itself, and a moment of real panic trying to figure out what to do about it before I was quite awake enough to understand what was wrong. I still have no idea what the hell was going on, why I woke to leg cramps so unexpectedly, or really any sort of cause/effect information at all. I lurched onto my feet, pain and all, and instinctively used my body weight and upright posture to “make” my calves do something more like whatever I think I expect. A few minutes walking unsteadily, painfully, around the apartment, and eventually the urgency died away, and the cramps eased. I went back to bed, so fatigued I dropped immediately back into a deep sleep. My calves still ache like crazy this morning. What the hell was that about??

The wind blew like the sky was angry last night, a shouting match tree to tree, across the parking lots and park meadows, the wind chime nearly being launched from its hook, and the potted plants rocked with enough force to hear some of them knock against each other. The trip home from the salon I visited was longer than my commute, and the late hour resulted in two opportunities to stand in the darkness, in the rain, waiting for a bus, enjoying the wildness of the wind tossing my newly colored hair; I arrived home disheveled, to that sense of warmth, comfort, and relief that I associate with “feeling at home”. It was lovely.

I was too tired to be irked that it was too late to light a fire in the fireplace, and made a quick healthy meal, which I ate efficiently, but not especially attentively. I set a timer to be sure I didn’t rush to bed so quickly that might give myself heartburn because of the late meal.  I grabbed my self-care checklist, and quietly perused it for details I might have missed during the day, and took time to meditate. Sure, tired. Sure, a late evening. Definitely could use 15 minutes more sleep this morning… but… my meditation practice matters. From the vantage point of a groggy morning after a short night, I might think for a moment that I could have benefited from those minutes of meditation being sleep, instead, but by days end my opinion on that could be quite different; the long-term skillful management of day-to-day stress, for me, requires that I carefully ensure that I maintain my daily meditation practice. This is what works for me. Perhaps you have found another way? I have not. 😉 I’m very tired this morning, but I’m less likely to face a meltdown later on, for having maintained my dedication to this important self-care detail. It’s a practice, there are verbs, and it has been very much worth it over time.

Begin again. Again.

Begin again. Again.

Speaking of meditation… there’s still time this morning, too. I hear the blustery winds beating on the outside of the apartment. The heater has not yet taken the chill off the room. My coffee is hot, tasty, and the kitchen is clean… seems a good time, and a lovely wild morning for taking some chill time on the cushion by the patio door, watching the dawn develop and listening to the wind.

Today is a good day to take care of this rather tired being of light, wrapped in this peculiarly fragile vessel. Today is a good day for eye contact, and for smiles, and enjoying love songs. Let’s change the world – together. Let’s be our best selves today.  🙂

 

This morning I woke up to real moments vastly different than my expectations. Not in any particularly bad way, and without any distress associated with what is essentially a lovely morning, but… the differences are here, and it is now, and now is not what I expected. It’s not the moment that is “at fault”, and that’s an important understanding; expectations are shortcuts, a cheat in life’s game, and they don’t always work. Small differences sometimes make big differences…

Each sunrise is new and different.

Each sunrise is new and different.

I woke alone this morning, although I went to bed uncertain whether that would be the case. I smile as I make coffee, thinking of my traveling partner, thinking about the weekend ahead, thinking about love.

I reached for music first thing, and grabbed what suited my mood best… but… what mood is this? Downliners Sekt… strangely off the beaten path compared to my usual of late. I’m okay with change. I like the music I like, more than enough variety for any mood I might find myself in. Still… it’s a difference, and the day begins.

I made coffee this morning… chose different beans that I usually do. Brushed out my hair after my shower… letting it part to the side, differently than usual. Chose earrings that complement the shirt I chose, differently than I ordinarily might. The days leads into change from the moment I woke… tonight I get my hair colored for the first time since 2013, when I got my hair cut very short, cutting away years of color-changes, damage, and metaphorically embracing radical change – and authenticity.

Change itself has sometimes felt like a stranger, an intruder, an interruption in life’s plan… I understand it differently this morning, and embracing change is yet another willful practice, and one that leads directly on the shortest path to personal growth. Today I “bring color back” – a demonstration of will, an opportunity to defy convention (although color has become so commonplace, it’s hardly unconventional, in fact), a moment to embrace ownership – and artistry – over even those elements of my appearance I am “born with”. Appearance reflecting inner self; a statement of purpose. A bit of fun. A celebration of self, and choice, and freedom to do as I will. My will.

I find myself poised on the razor’s edge of a question this morning, peering over the edge of change… What do I want from my life? What can I bring to the world that is uniquely me? Is enough really enough? No one question in words quite captures the question in which my morning is wrapped, they are like the sides of a faceted gem… the actual question being the entirety of the gem, itself, wordless and wonderful. More a “?” than a question in words… a sense of uncertainty, of imminent unknown outcome. Is it as simple as “I wonder what my hair will look like when it is finished?” Sometimes “deep” isn’t a characteristic… it’s more a quagmire. lol

Cold coffee, chilly morning, embracing change.

Cold coffee, chilly morning, embracing change.

My coffee is cold, and the hour is later than I realized… music and questions have filled my thoughts this morning. I am transfixed by imminent change… will I later be transformed? I smile. Just words this morning. Today is a good day for words and questions. Today change is enough. Love is enough. Fun is enough. I think I’ll do that. 🙂

Oh hey, it’s one of those days… Today is National Coming Out Day. Are you “out”? If you are, that’s pretty special. If you’re out, and wrapped in acceptance and love, that’s wonderful. If you’re out, and struggling to be accepted, that’s hard – and worth it, and… hard. Hang in there. Take care of you.

I have so many friends who are not living post-war fantasy lives in modest nuclear families with two cars, a garage, an ideal number of children by ratio to income, a stay at home female, a working male, hetero-likely-not-that-sexual-love. It’s someone else’s fantasy. Not mine. Not the fantasy of my friends or loves – hell, it’s pretty uncommon to find people living that life these days. Life – and love – tend to be messier, more complicated, less precise, less rigid, more open to change than some ancient white patriarchal politician’s fantasy of human relationships. Let us love as we will, my friends; love matters more than rules about love ever will! I sip my coffee and smile.

I think about other sorts of being “out”. I think about sexual assault survivors outing themselves all over America (and the world) this week in response to a presidential candidate’s asinine, inflammatory bragging about violating women’s consent on the regular. So many of us reacted to that – and I am so proud of each and every woman who said to herself “my secrecy isn’t worth allowing this bullshit to continue”. I am also moved by compassion (and understanding) for women still so very damaged that they are not yet able to share their story, out of fear, out of hurt, out of shame; I understand.

Out isn’t an easy choice. It’s raw, vulnerable, revealing – it’s a spotlight on a dark corner on a pitch black night in an unfamiliar neighborhood we’ve heard terrible things about. Out is powerful, beautiful… but yeah, not easy.

Love matters most.

Love matters most.

Today is a good day to step into the light. Today is a good day to come out. (Today is also a good day to take care of you – perhaps the time is not now? It’s your journey, and your choice.) Today is a good day to be our most human, vulnerable selves, and to see past the masks we wear, and accept that this other person is also human. Today is a good day to share the journey as travelers, and maybe even make it just a little easier for everyone else sharing the path by being our kindest selves, our most compassionate selves; love matters most. ❤