Archives for posts with tag: welcome home love

…List of chores. Yep. It certainly is a huge… list. Fuck. Am I really expecting myself to get all of this done, today? On this knee? With this arthritis pain? 0_o It seems… unreasonable.

…It’s actually not that bad.

I look over my list again. Routine housekeeping, all of it. Regular, commonplace tasks that need to be done with fair frequency. The image doesn’t show that above “Hearth & Home” sits “Self-Care”, and below the list in the image are also “Errands”… I do like an orderly list. lol

I put self-care first on my list these days, because it needs to be; if I don’t take care of myself, who is going to get all this shit done?? I put errands last because it’s pretty easy for a “quick trip to the store” to become a hours long distraction from everything on the list that needs to be done. lol Some things on the list are daily chores, they get checked off each day, and put back on the list the next day (looking your way “do the dishes”!). Other things are weekly, still other things are “occasional”, seasonal, or “as needed”. It’s just a list though; making the list doesn’t imply getting it done. There are definitely verbs involved. ๐Ÿ™‚

I consider each task on the list. I move them around so they are more or less in the order I think I’ll want to get them done. I’m playing with my list and drinking my morning coffee, and writing, while also chatting with my Traveling Partner, who is eager to come home. I’m eager for him to come home, too… and I’d love to welcome him home with my list of shit to do fully completed. What a welcoming place to come home to! I smile to myself, recalling what it feels like to come home to order, to a well-cared for living space, and to a calm, peaceful environment. No drama. No work bullshit. No dishes in the sink, or shit in disarray. Just… home. The thought renews my commitment and my motivation to get it all done. Yesterday was mine, for me. Today is for mindful service to hearth and home. ๐Ÿ˜€

…It’s already past 8:00 am. I’ve finished this cup of coffee, with one last swallow of now-cold brew (nothing at all like actual “cold brew”, I assure you lol). I’ve got this list, and this day, and it is very much looking like time to begin again. ๐Ÿ˜€

After the chores, perhaps a hot mug of cider on the deck, or meditation by the fire? Something to look forward to, but first – verbs.

Well… I’m home, again. The car is unloaded. There is a tidy stack of belongings to one side of the living room that are not mine. There are bright lime green sticky notes here and there, on walls, on bookcases, on drawers, marking spaces that could be pleasingly and functionally re-purposed for the needs of another. Oh sure, this is a comfortable space for two, has been, really, all along – I just choose to live a solitary life, these days. Or… I had been so doing. And, although it is a comfortable space for two, it’s not really outfitted for cohabitation in any long-term way.

Change is coming. Actually, according to the stack of boxes and things, and the handy list of stuff I would ideally like to get done ahead of time, it’s already here. He’s already here… well… on his way. Not a visit. Not a vacation. Not “coming and going”. Not wandering, or mostly traveling; my Traveling Partner is coming home for some while. ๐Ÿ™‚ I’m excited, like a teenager, nesting, doing chores, moving things from here to there. I’m also… giving my inner teenager a lot of shit over it, in the background, and a hearty helping of side-eye, when the excitement becomes surreal. This is not a daydream of playing house. This is real life. Real people. Baggage, challenges, aspirations, changes, love, and all. All of it. Who we are now. Who we want to be. The journey between those destinations.

…No map.

I’m glad I got home ahead of him. There feels like so much to do to make him welcome, to make room for him to truly feel fully at home, and moved into this shared space. (Holy shit – I gotta share my space. lol) Then, too, I look at things I just haven’t gotten done, ever, because… reasons. (Some fairly lame reasons, some utterly understandable – some both. One reason, just being real, is all the back and forth travel to spend time with my Traveling Partner, elsewhere!) He knows me so well. His affection is deep, abiding – and accepting of who I am, while also supporting my growth. There is so much I won’t have to ask for help with, the help will be there. ๐Ÿ™‚ It’s like another Giftmas, every time I come home to something nice he’s done to help out. He fixes things. He has an exceptional sense of placement that suits my aesthetic. He hangs paintings with skill and an eye for theme and beauty. He notices things that I don’t always spot, and takes care of what I can’t so easily do. It’s reciprocal; I help him with things that are “more in my area”, whether personally or professionally. That matters. We count on each other – and we comfortably can. I laugh when I realize that there are no surprises here, and that he is coming home to my familiar presence, because he wants to be here, with me, as I am. I relax. It feels warm and supportive and intimate, even from afar. Even before I hear his key in the lock on the front door, in some future moment, soon. There is a sense of eagerness, and belonging. I have missed him greatly, however much I enjoy living alone.

I hop up from my writing to add another sticky note for him to find, “this bookcase is entirely for your use”, it says. I sit down smiling. There is more to do, and I feel grateful to have time to get some of it done in advance, so that I’m not “underfoot” while he is trying to get settled in; a drawer in the dresser that I plan to relinquish, night stands to swap because he likes “the other side of the bed”. I frowned into the refrigerator earlier; I need to grocery shop, too. I’ve been living a bit like a bachelor, a bit more than I’d really like to. There is positive momentum in this change for both of us.

Sure, sure, eventually there will be some moment of miscommunication, hurt feelings, or anger, and we’ll deal with that the way we do – explicitly and affectionately, sometimes with clenched jaws, and terse, deliberate, careful communication, sometimes with tears – from a place of love, wanting only the best of, and for, each other, and always building this partnership. Fearless commitment to loving. Expectation-setting, clarifying questions, deep conversations, laughter – so much to add to my day-to-day experience, and I am so hungry for it, sitting here thinking it over.

I wasn’t in a good place for cohabitation 4 years ago. Am I now? Moving into my own place made so much sense, then… What about now?

I look out the window of my studio. It looks out onto the front stoop, and at the door into the garage. His space. Oh sure, still shared, but… shared like my studio is shared. It sort of has to be, small place, but, still my studio. Still his maker-space/workshop/whatever he makes of it, despite any wee bit of shared purpose in some fashion or another. (And yes, we do things like knock, check before we barge in, make sure we’re aware whether the other is in the throes of some creative endeavor that would suffer for being interrupted. Respect, reciprocity, consideration – they’re all part of my Big 5 relationship values, values that he both respects and shares. Boundaries set are boundaries respected, in this house.) I smile looking at that door. I earnestly want to put a sticky note on it, although it is not at all necessary… I do it anyway. My smile deepens with my feeling of contentment.

It seems a lovely way to begin again. ๐Ÿ™‚

I woke with a headache this morning. This one eases with the first cup of coffee, some yoga, and a big glass of water. Maintaining this body is somewhat complicated, or so it seems to me this morning.

Meditation starts the morning, for some unmeasured time, seated comfortably on my cushion, at my favored spot just at the patio door, looking out through the container garden, watching the sun make a brief pastel appearance betwixt cottony soft gray clouds. I enjoy cloudy days. The small birds that prefer the earliest of morning hours to visit come and go from the feeder, eyeing me curiously. My hope is that by the end of summer I can come and go through the patio door without frightening all the birds away, perhaps even sit quietly right there, outside, positioned to take clearer photographs of them. That will require quite a commitment to stillness, and then some. ๐Ÿ™‚

This morning I enjoy my traveling partner’s charm and camaraderie, coffees together/separately, and a choice opportunity to take time together over a housekeeping detail that isย helped by partnering up on a complex task I hadย some difficulty mastering; his exceptional commitment to patiently coaching me is valued this morning. We enjoy the time together, and the sharing. It’s significantly enhanced by no hint of imbalance in the relationship, no one jockeying to ‘be right’ or to ‘be the expert’, just two people who care sharing the load in life, making each other stronger. It’s a pleasant way to start the morning.

It’s hard to know what the day holds from here… I’ll continue to take care of me, handle the business of the day, and work from my list. I feel content, organized, and orderly. I feel comfortable in my own skin. This feels good… and sustainable. I guess I’ll find that out over time… I mean… my results do vary. ๐Ÿ˜‰

Isn't this enough?

Isn’t this enough?

Writing isn’t coming so easily this morning. I’ve had a number of interesting ideas take me a direction that just didn’t look like somewhere I cared to go…3 actually, amounting to something like 700 words. Deleted words now; I didn’t even safe drafts. I’m okay with that – my words, I can do what I like with them.

Other sorts of course corrections and changes are less simple. I can’t just delete a poor choice and go a different direction, once my choices are made and acted upon, the way I can when I write – no backspace button, either, for that ‘oh crap! not that direction…’ moment. In action, life happens quickly and continuously. Good decision-making, and wise actions matter – and so does self-compassion, and self-acceptance, because I definitely also manage some poor decision-making along life’s journey, or take actions that could not be described as ‘wise’ (‘fumbling in the dark’ would be more accurate, at best, some days).

Today, the writing is my metaphor. It’s not going super smoothly today, and I’m okay with that, too – there’s no pressure, it’s living life and sometimes it is more challenging than others. Today I feel vaguely… vague. A bit directionless, having dumped some errant notions that were holding me back, but having not quite firmed up the foundational ideas and decisions that will take me forward on a more valued trajectory. Camping is sounding really good from this vantage point; I need some stillness to think on what I want out of my life.

Blue skies and wonder; worth looking up for.

Blue skies and wonder; worth looking up for.

My traveling partner arrived home earlier than planned yesterday; I was in the office and aside from the happy awareness he was safely home, it didn’t change my experience. We have very little time together, partly due to my work hours, and timing. I got home and enjoyed the warmth of his greeting, and the delight of welcoming him back…for about half an hour. He crashed out early in the evening, and clearly needed the rest. I spent my evening quietly, and enjoyed an early night, myself. We’ve carved out some time on the calendar to enjoy together tonight; I plan to stay up later than usual to make it happen, because the time we share is worth adjusting my routine and losing some sleep.

I may be vague on what to write about today… I am not vague about love, Love, or my traveling partner. I hear him up for the morning…today is a good day to share love.