Archives for posts with tag: walking my own path

I’m excited to be house-hunting. When I am excited, I sometimes also lose perspective. To find perspective, stay on track with my goals and planning, and to ensure I don’t engage in well-intended self-sabotaging decision-making based on fantastical daydreams, I indulge my excitement a bit by really settling in to seriously study whatever I’m currently hung up on, until I am able to make a well-reasoned decision about it in the context of knowledge – and existing plans, and long-term needs.

Take the humble chicken, for example; I’d like to have a couple chickens. I like fresh eggs. I even like chickens. I’ve had chickens, at a different point in life. None of these statements indicates any particular level of expertise on which I might base good decision-making. I spent a goodly amount of time yesterday reading about caring for chickens, looking at plans for coops, reading about diseases and parasites common to chickens, and how to prevent or treat those. I read about the space they need, and the behavior of chickens. I read about how to care for them, and their life expectancy and needs. I read a lot of chicken-keeping related topics. I planned a budget around getting set up for keeping chickens, and maintaining them over time. I compared the cost of having those fresh eggs to the cost of buying farm fresh eggs at the nearest farmer’s market. I looked at likely new homeowner expenses in the first year of homeownership, and the impact of keeping chickens on the funds I would need for non-negotiable home care. I sipped coffee. I meditated. I enjoyed a relaxing day of reading and quiet time.

By the end of the day I was pretty clear on two things: I’d like to keep chickens – enough to justify the cost – and it’s not something that makes sense to do in the first year I have my home. There will be other higher priority needs to attend to. There was no sense of disappointment at all. I ended the day feeling more educated on a topic I am excited about, and well-equipped to comfortably make a good decision about it. I take my daydreaming pretty seriously, and I’ve learned that doing so doesn’t have to be about spontaneous bad decisions that come with major consequences. Far better to harness the power of my dreams to fuel my further education. There is so much to learn! So much to know!

Today is a good day to learn more about what excites me most. Today is a good day toย educate myself. Today is a good day for consideration, and well-thought-out decision-making. Today is a good day to take care of the person in the mirror by meeting her needs over time. ๐Ÿ™‚

I’m having a lovely relaxed Sunday, listening to tunes, bird-watching, reading, writing, meditating, and investing quiet time in taking care of the woman in the mirror. In general, I’m feeling pretty good. Even the bit of pain I am in that stands out more by its absence than it ever does by being part of my experience is neither of consequence, nor is it slowing me down from enjoying the day.

I’m thinking about a friend who isn’t doing so well today. I think about my Traveling Partner, too, and wish him well with his day, and wonder whether he made the trek to a friend’s place some distance away, to spend the afternoon gaming. I’m not wound up tight with anxiety wondering how I can fix things for loved ones, not today. Somewhere along the journey I think I’ve managed to learn the basics of letting my friends and loved ones make their own way. I’m here, should they care to reach out, to talk, to distract themselves, or just to hang out, and I’ve learned that this is not only “enough”, it’s truly all I can do. We are each having our own experience because we each must have our own experience; we can’t walk the other person’s mile.

How does the day find you? Are you well and content and wrapped in love? Are you struggling with circumstances – or yourself? Are you taking the very best care of the person in the mirror? Are you really there for yourself? Are your choices such that they are most likely to meet your needs over time? Are you satisfied with who you are? If you are not content with your answers to these questions… What are you going to do about it, you, yourself, through your actions? You do have choices. There are changes that could be made, and practices to practice. You could start today, now, with just one thing. Just saying… you are so powerful in your own life. You have the power to choose, and to act. You have the power to be the person you most want to be.

Today is a good day to begin again. ๐Ÿ™‚

I woke abruptly, disoriented in the darkness, and suddenly aware that today is Friday, one more work day left this week, and the icy certainty I had shut off my alarm and gone back to sleep, oversleeping some portion of the work day, gripped me fiercely. I took a deep relaxing breathe, then another, and let myself wake enough to look at the time through bleary eyes. It was hard to process what I saw. It said… 11:23… pm. Wait… 11:23? How is it not daylight? P.m? Did I sleep through the entire day and beyond? That wasn’t making sense for minutes. Then I understood. Just a sleep disturbance. I went back to sleep relieved not to have shot out of bed as if fired from a cannon to careen around the room pulling on clothes clumsily in my haste to exit the building. (I have so been there!)

I used to have those weird ‘lost in time’ dreams not-quite-a-lot-more-often-than-rarely. If I were sharing the night with someone else, their sleep would be ruined, too, because in my panic I would usually be verbalizing my stress and anxiety – and I had serious baggage around “time”, in general, back then. A panicked shrieking freak out over having ‘overslept’ a work shift, or an appointment time, that resulted in me being both entirely irrational and completely inconsolable until I recognized my mistake about the time would ensue, guaranteeing no one could feel calm enough to return to sleep with ease. Last night was different; I never even got up, and returned to sleep. Granted, my sleep last night was restless and disturbed, but I did sleep, and I do feel sufficiently rested.

I’m glad it’s Friday, though. I’m clearly ready for the weekend. lol

Practicing calm, renders me calmer over time, less reactive. I like it. It’s a change for the better. I enjoy the recollection of my disturbed sleep as if it were a good report card.

The view from the office.

The view from the office. Perspective matters; it looks very different in the picture than it does when I am just looking at it.

I spend more time than usual meditating this morning. It’s a lovely quiet morning for it, the rain quietly continuing to fall outside these walls, beyond these windows. I recall the rain shower that drenched me last night, soaking me, and leaving me to step through puddles in sodden jeans the rest of the way, happy to have waterproofed my winter coat – because it too was quite soaked, in spite of that. I smile withย amusement at being taken by surprise by the sudden down pour; I’d been watching them pass through town all day through the big windows in the office. I am fortunate that I enjoy rain. However much I do enjoy rain, though, I was glad to arrive home to a hot shower and dry clothes.

The view as I headed for home.

The view as I headed for home.

The morning commute had been so different from the drenching soaking aggressively windy rain storm that took me by surprise on the way home. I had strolled in through the peculiarly mild weather, hood back, hair loose in the breeze, feeling the misty rain on my face with a big delighted grin that lasted the entire 1.97 mile walk across town to the office. I felt free and whole and eager to embrace the entirety of life’s experience, looking at the world through rain-spattered glasses. I know, I know – not especially “grown up”… on the other hand, how silly would it be to arrive at death’s door regretting things like not feeling the rain on my face, or the wind in my hair? I will certainly have my regrets in life, but I’m doing what I can to embrace and enjoy the simple pleasures, so easily within reach. I’m still routinely taken by surprise how much they matter.

The view through a misty morning rain.

The view through a misty morning rain.

I think about my Traveling Partner. I’m hoping to see him tonight, this weekend, dinner on Valentine’s Day, after work. I take a moment to appreciate being so well-loved. I think about his eyes, his smile, how much he cares for me… I think about how delightful it will be to have a little place of my own, and to enlist his help on projects to make it more mine, more livable, more a home than a house.ย Daydreaming about love, smiling, sipping my coffee.

Today is a good day to be fully where I am in life. If it isn’t where I want to be, it is nonetheless where I must start to go somewhere different. If it is somewhere I enjoy, then I’d be foolish not to enjoy the moment. I am okay right now, and that’s enough. ๐Ÿ™‚

Mondays have a bad reputation. I’m no longer sure why. Is it merely that so many people work unsatisfying jobs to which they must return each Monday? I’ve definitely been there. It wasn’t the easiest thing to choose differently. I had to learn that I could. So far, the current job has not yet lost its appeal, and going on 6 months, now. ๐Ÿ™‚

I woke during the night, no idea why, and quietly walked through the apartment, restlessly, for… what? For about 10 minutes, that’s what. lol I’ve no idea what woke me, and I was on autopilot as I walked through the apartment, from bathroom to kitchen to patio door to studio window, finally standing at the front door, looking out into the wee hours of night, feeling the cold wet breeze circle me and filling the doorway. It was the refreshing cool of the breeze that helped me realize I was indeed awake and walking around, and also that I was still quite sleepy and inclined to finish the night. I returned to bed, and to sleep.

…And here it is, Monday. My coffee this morning is quite terrible, which seems rather odd. In all other respects the morning begins quite well, and I’m not inclined to fuss over the coffee. I rather thoughtlessly rubbed something irritating into my eyes, which as irritants go is unpleasant, but could be so much worse. I notice, as I dispose of the tissue I had dabbed at my eyes with, that I overlooked the little trash can in my studio when I took out the trash this weekend. I’m a tad irked by that, but it is also a very small thing. I shrug that off, too. How much Monday misery is entirely self-selected based on the apprehension that Mondays will suck? It’s been a long while since I’ve actually had a shitty Monday… Today still doesn’t qualify. I keep choosing to enjoy the morning. There’s no particular need to force it, I am okay right now, and that’s enough.

Monday? Yeah, it is. That doesn’t have to be any more significant than any other day of the week, though. There are verbs involved. Choices. Perspective. Practices. You can always begin again. ๐Ÿ™‚

I woke from a long night of sound slumber. Rare, restful, delicious. I slept in. After yoga and meditation, and putting out peanuts and birdseed for my weekend brunch visitors, I sat down with my coffee and the latest real estate search list from my realtor. It’s exciting to be house-hunting for a wee place of my own.

I look over each listing in the search list very carefully. I imagine waking up there. I imagine walking through those rooms in the dark of night after a nightmare. I consider what the floors will feel like on bare feet, and whether the layout of the kitchen is going to fuck with my head for weeks or months, remembering how confusing it was to move from #27 to #59 – with all the light switches and appointments mirror imaged, and how long it took to stop clawing at blank wall for a light switch that wasn’t there. Those details matter for quality of life. Will the windows let in the dawn? The evening light? Will the house bake in the sun unrelentingly, or offer comfort and shade? Will the winter winds chill the floor with peculiar drafts? Which details are easily changed? Which less so? What matters most? It’s an interesting meditation, to consider with such care what living in a particular space might feel like. I easily rule out some of the listings I see by doing so; if I can’t feel living there with any comfort, I am not interested. (I trust that feeling – some of my PTSD triggers are fairly mundane things or circumstances. If my senses begin to squeal in my head that a space doesn’t feel safe, and I’m only looking at a photograph, I know to move on.)

I chat a while with my Traveling Partner, sharing pictures of places, getting his thoughts. Our individual aesthetic overlaps quite a lot, and his engineering background results in a first-rate reality check on things I am less likely to notice. Helpful, and another way to share love. I am eager to find a place to call home that he will feel equally welcome in, when he is spending time with me. As a woman of 53, comfortably and contentedly living alone, I have learned that “home” is something I bring with me, something I create for myself – houses are what I’m shopping for – the container in which to put my home. ๐Ÿ˜€ Honestly, that makes the shopping much easier. At 18, and even at 35, I shopped for homes, and felt endlessly disappointed not to find one.

I finish my coffee smiling. Enjoying a few moments of conversation with my Traveling Partner before moving on with the day. I’ve some adulting to do this morning: laundry, vacuuming, cleaning the kitchen and bathroom. Home-making. Good skills to have, worthy practices for taking care of me. First, a hike in the mild Pacific Northwest winter. Today that’s enough.