Archives for posts with tag: what works for me

Yesterday was a good day end-to-end. I sip my coffee thinking about it, and waiting for the sun. Daylight Savings Time ended in the wee hours this morning, and dawn will seem to come an hour earlier. There’s no “real change” to when the sun will rise, only to where we human beings place the occurrence on our clocks. I sit with that thought awhile. Time is interesting to contemplate.

I spent a couple pleasant hours at my easel yesterday, painting. Well, more accurately, I was painting at the dining table, and the piece of Pastelbord I was painting on at any given moment was taped to the table to prevent it sliding around. I no longer have an easel, and if I still had my enormous floor-standing easel I wouldn’t be using that, it was far too big for the small work I presently feel inclined to do. lol Having a tabletop easel might be nice, though; pastels are dry, but still manage to be quite messy, as little drifts of colorful dust settle here and there. An easel would tend to keep the work itself cleaner, requiring fewer pauses to carefully blow off the loose pastel.

Colorful flowers, insignificant and delightful.

I think about having a French easel, too, for working en plein air (an unnecessarily fancy way of saying “outside”). I shop for something of that sort, again and again, trying to find a combination of characteristics I like, and that properly suit my painting style. It’s proving to be surprisingly difficult. I sometimes wonder how much what I just don’t yet know about what I actually need may hold me back from recognizing what may realistically suit me in practical terms. We don’t know what we don’t know, and every “what if” scenario is incomplete because of that. I sit thinking about that for awhile.

Some autumn sunrise from a favorite view.

I sit contentedly reflecting on the paintings I painted yesterday. Each pleases me in some way. Each has some detail I’m more critical of. It’s funny that I’m simultaneously quite delighted with them, while also seeing them through critical eyes. I smile at the flowers, while thinking “ah, but if I had done this other thing, wouldn’t it be better?”, but I don’t really know that it would be better – only different. Thinking about decisions in life is much the same; we can consider how we might have done differently, but we can’t know what that other outcome might truly have been.

“What if…” is like any other sort of wishful thinking or daydreaming; we can’t really know, we can only wonder.

I watch the horizon for daybreak. Soon. I sip my coffee. It’s a chilly morning and the warmth of the hot coffee cup in my hands feels good. I think about how good a hot shower will feel after my walk, and smile with some satisfaction that the dishes are already done and won’t be waiting for me. Such a mundane detail to give me so much pleasure. It’s funny (to me) what sorts of utterly practical things can provide so much contentment and joy.

I think about my Traveling Partner, sleeping at home. He continues to make progress with his recovery, and it’s really beginning to show. That’s an immense weight off my heart, I admit; I’ve felt so helpless and worried. Caregiving is a lot of work, but beyond that, I really want my beloved to live (and enjoy) his best life!

Day breaks on another rainy gray autumn morning. The trail is visible as the sky lightens. There’s a mist clinging to the ground and the scent of the marsh is in the air. Everything seems quite still and quiet. Later, there will be time for painting between loads of laundry, and happy hours hanging out over coffee with my Traveling Partner, talking and sharing life. For now, it’s time to put on my boots and get out on the trail, and begin again.

I am munching a healthy, nutritionally dense, calorie appropriate meal. Later, I’ll meditate, exercise, have a shower, and wind down for the evening. When I finally call it a night, the dishes will be done, counters clean, and there will be a general sense of tidiness, completion, and contentment. Is it “the right way”? I suggest it isn’t about that; it’s what meets my own needs. Your needs may differ. Do I live this way out of privilege? Wealth? Nope. It’s not that, either; I have lived this way without means, making do with nothing besides effort, will, and a sense of self. (It’s easier, as is everything else, when we have means, there’s no question about that, in my mind.) I’ve also lived quite differently.

…I’m not a kid anymore, and I’ve had time to explore what works for me, and figure out what “my way” may actually be. That matters, too… it has taken time to get here…

…I’m glad I had that time; there is further to go.

Tonight my Traveling Partner is far away, enjoying a very different evening, in the company of another person. I’m cool with that – even encouraging. It’s not reasonable, I think, to expect to be all things to even just one other person. I’m glad he has friends (and yes, even lovers), and a life beyond our relationship; this is what works for us. Our way. It fits. It is comfortable. The suffocating cling wrap of true monogamy doesn’t fit our natures, so it is not what we choose for ourselves. Is it “the right way”? You already know the answer; it isn’t about that. It is what meets our needs, and the needs of our loves. Your needs may differ. We treat each other well, and with great consideration, and this, too, is very much part of our way of living and loving. It works for us.

I’m not going to seek to persuade you that my life is “right” for you. I am not you. You’ve got to walk your own path. Discover your own values. Embrace your own journey. Chart your own course. Make your own choices. Walk your own hard mile. Sort yourself out. Find your own way. I’m not blazing a trail through a wilderness here; I’m living my life. I am neither prophet nor teacher. I’m one human being, with a lifetime of my own challenges, sort of “thinking out loud” while I work through them. Maybe you find that helpful, or entertaining, maybe you don’t. It is what it is.

I’m here. So are you. It’s enough. 🙂

I don’t need to be “right” on any of this. I’m just finding my own way in the darkness, and hoping for the best, each day counting on myself to be able to get some little detail a little more well handled than I did the day before, to maybe live with greater skill, and greater love, and maybe, just maybe… a small amount of wisdom gained over time.

…I’m glad I’ve had some time for that, too.

You know what I don’t have time for? I don’t have time for hate. Do I hate people who don’t live “my way”? Of course not; they are walking their own path, having their own experience, and quite likely also, generally, do whatever they individually think is “best”. We may differ on our approach, our choices, and our values. We may experience very different outcomes… but I, for one, do not have time to hate. Do you?

Do you, really?

I finish my dinner, and think about the future. I think about all the many beautiful dreams of beautiful futures that have, over time, come and gone, rather like soap bubbles. Fragile. Colorful. Delightful. Unable to endure life’s breezes and thorns long enough to ever be anything more than beautiful dreams, already gone, so many already forgotten. There are others. There likely will be other dreams of beautiful futures for however long a future seems to be ahead of me at all, down to the last day of consciousness, and living. That, too, is what it is. I am very human.

This moment isn’t as poignant as it may sound, reading it off a page. There’s still time to begin again. I finish dinner, and start on the dishes. 🙂