Posts Tagged ‘love’

A time of transition.

I’ve had ideas on posts to write, but I haven’t had many words lately.

I’m tired. I’m often tired. I take at least one nap a day, and sometimes I crave more than that. My energy crashes something feel like something dropping out from under me. I often remind myself that I’ve been under a lot of stress for the past few months. It’s no easy feat to plan a wedding and a move, and then to actually do it. Then I’m also stressed about the upcoming election, and the time just changed…

A lot of things have changed; I am adjusting.
Before leaving, I wrapped up the structure of my life in my hometown:
  • My vision therapy sessions are done. I still am doing a few maintenance exercises, especially to practice divergence (eyes going out to see far).
  • My individual therapy sessions are done. My therapist and I had come to a natural stopping point anyway.
  • I was going to Nia classes three times a week, and always enjoyed connecting with my fellow teachers and students. Now, I have no classes to go to, at least for now (none are offered until the New Year, and while I hope to offer my own, that will take time). I’ve committed to doing three full classes in my living room (through videos, or from the routines I know by heart) each week. Exercise-wise, it’s similar to what I would get in a studio. Connection and getting out-wise, it’s not.

Now, I don’t have any particular need to go anywhere, other than to go grocery shopping. I have been taking walks in the neighborhood. I think soon I’ll sit down with my love and we’ll brainstorm places I can either walk or drive to so I can get out and start to orient myself more to this new city. I’m glad that he’s settled in and oriented to the area; he’s been here over a year now.

I did sign up for two craft fairs, one at the end of this month, and one in December. I need to inventory my products and see what I’d like to take to sell. I’ve made a few new things – mostly ornaments/suncatchers.

It’s been amazing to wake up and turn and see my love sleeping at my side. I’ve enjoyed making meals together, and finding our rhythm again. It’s been over four and a half years since we last lived together, and we’ve been long-distance for the past two. I’m grateful to be here with him, and I’m enjoying being married so far. I still fumble over the word “husband,” although the words “wife” and “spouse” come more easily to my tongue.  We’ve started on our thank-you notes, and are looking through our wedding photos so we can choose ones to print. We’ve been getting things to organize and decorate our apartment; it’s feeling homier.

This is the first major life change I’ve gone through since I was diagnosed with sensory processing disorder. While there is part of me that is like, “let’s do a bunch of things now,” I am generally taking things slowly, keeping in mind that I need time. Sometimes, it feels like all my nerves are on edge. I often feel disoriented; I get easily overstimulated. Everything is so new. My weighted blanket and lap pad have been major allies in self-soothing. My love will also give me firm hugs when I need them.

When I feel stagnant or anxious, I walk outside and breathe in the fall air. It’s warm for this time of year, even for the desert. Still, there is often a cool breeze that reminds me of the season, and that winter is coming. I am going through a major change, and change will continue around me.

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Friday link roundup 11/4

Beyoncé and the Dixie Chicks performed “Daddy Lessons” at the Country Music Awards. This NPR article reflects about the significance of the act, while another article discusses the backlash of negative comments about the performance on social media. See the performance here, or listen to the studio version here.

Glamour magazine names Emily Doe woman of the year, and she writes an eloquent update about her life after Brock Turner’s conviction and short sentence, and what it means to be a survivor.

A trial on male birth control shots was cut short due to side effects. These side effects are similar to many of the side effects women who take hormonal birth control.  experience. This article from the Atlantic discusses the different stakes of male and female birth control.

About a woman who took a year off to find love and wrote about her experiences.

Do parents invade their children’s privacy when they post photos of them online? This NPR article discusses and investigates this question.

In the United States, Election Day is Tuesday, November 8th. How an elementary school teacher taught her students about the electoral process through teaching them about the election of 1800. Time magazine ranks the “dirtiest elections” in U.S. history and discusses how the current election compares. Variety shares the livestreams and updates that will be available on election day.

Adjusting, remembering.

It’s been almost two weeks since the wedding.
Less than two weeks since I moved.
Mere days since we returned from our honeymoon.

Part of me wants to put life on pause for a minute, so I can savor these experiences properly.

Another part of me craves the mundane, a rhythm to my life that is not based on a future event, to settle in and be. Settling in may take awhile. Right now, I can take deep breaths and do activities that feed my body and spirit.

In the meantime, I want to remember:

Presence is a gift
our gift
I will, I do
Blue sky above,
clouds building
My hair up, braided and pinned, tendrils kissing my face;
the look in his eyes, the feel of the handfasting cords against my wrist,
my hand clasped in his
community and blessings all around
Celebrating us,
celebrating
love.

****
The way the light touches the canyon walls,
bathes the field,
lengthens distances;
Watching the moon rise over the Watchman, a hair’s breadth from full;
Finding a hidden trail and climbing over boulders in the creek,
seeing our reflections in pools and the sky rise far above
When we stop to gaze at the rocks in awe,
the calm energy of this preserved place holds me.
I look at him – long-time lover and partner, now husband – and smile.

Double rainbow on my wedding day.

double-rainbow

Picture of double rainbow that my husband took.

I’ll share more details at a later point; for now, I’ll begin with this:

It started to sprinkle just as we were finishing up our wedding reception. It was raining as we drove across the city to the bed and breakfast, where we were staying the night.

As we were approaching the B&B, we saw a vivid rainbow, and another faintly above it. The clearer one seemed to expand in the sky across the valley, across the greater part of the city.

It was the beautiful ending to a wonderful event. It was also a beautiful beginning to the next chapter in our lives. I turned my love – my new husband – and smiled.

I’m tired/I’m grateful

I’m tired of being long-distance, of being so far away from him. It’s been over two years now that we’ve lived in separate places.

I’m grateful that I’ve gotten to have this time to heal and grow while we’ve been apart.

I’m tired of mainly seeing each other on the screen.

I’m grateful that we have FaceTime and Skype, and that we can see each other that way and talk on a regular basis.

I’m grateful that this has challenged us to learn how to communicate more effectively.

I’m tired of visits that feel so incredibly full, like we’re trying to shove everything we can into a short period of time.

I’m grateful that we’ve gotten to have these visits, because even small amounts of time together can feel precious and amazing.

I’m tired of missing him.

I’m grateful that soon, we’ll get to live and  be together on a regular basis.

(And part of me knows that there will be times when he or I will want space, and that kind of longing will be far from my mind. That missing will happen, but perhaps for shorter periods of time – a  business trip, visiting a friend or family, a day when he comes home from work later than expected, etc.)

I am tired, and I am grateful.

It’s less than two months before our wedding. I’m anticipating stressful moments, bittersweet moments, celebratory moments. I want to hold this time close to me – to be able to cherish the last weeks of my time here, collect memories, and to prepare myself for the transition.

Love letter: Feet

feet

Dear Feet,

I spent years being frustrated with your collapsing arches and tendency to turn in pigeon-toed.  I concentrated on fixing you more than treating you with respect for how you carry my weight, how you connect with the ground, how you are such great instruments for movement.  You are such a great support for me.

I love that we’re closer now, especially as we’ve explored Nia together and learned to dance in new ways.  We’ve experimented with balance, learning how to lead with the heel, stepping with the whole foot, stretching out into the ball of the foot.  I am grateful for all your bones and muscles and how each has a purpose and its own strength.

I appreciate the calluses you’ve grown to protect me.  I love when I can take shoes and socks off and allow us to be and feel free.  I love the feel of dirt on your soles – it helps me feel more centered and connected with the earth.

Thank you for each step you take, for your strength and stability.  Thank you for being with me as I’ve lost balance, fallen, and gotten up again.

With love,

Me.

Feet is the prompt from Day #3 of April Love 2016.  For more information, go here.

Letters to 31 and 32

I began this entry last year, right before I turned 32.  Now that I’m turning 33 (tomorrow!), I have added to it and am sharing the whole piece.

***

Dear 31,
I know you
wanted more.
I saw you grasp at dreams as they slipped
from your fingers
You were idealistic even in moments of pain,
believed the words “stick with it, keep going,you’ve got this”
as you crumbled to the floor.

31, you chose to leave
a place you loved,
a situation you despised.
This was not easy.
You realized your dreams
were no longer your own,
you were left adrift on a sea
without a flotation drive.

Depression closed and opened doors for you,
Saying, “This life you’ve been living isn’t working
anymore.”  your hand on scar tissue,
you turned away.

returning to your hometown
a defeat and relief,
high desert blue
giving you a
safe haven in
family and the familiar.

therapy and medicine
created larger gaps
between you and futility
determined, in the midst of nights where you wondered why,
you pressed on

dance brought you
closer to your body
the rhythms finding you, inviting you,
tickling you into momentary laughter.  this is healing
you said.  this is healing. 

31, you sought sanctuary in rest
inspiration in art,
twisting wire into forms
stone settings beating strong

you began to recover your strength
stitching, breathing, hoping
resolved to choose love, to forge a stronger connections

Unfolding thoughts of a future again
knowing uncertainty lingered behind every bend
you stayed here, feet on earth,
saying, there is more, there is more.
my story continues.

***

Dear 32,
You opened your eyes wider this year.
Dancing your way to teach
laughing more
treasuring moments of communication
healing and hope in a promise of a vow.

You learned why and how
the world has always seemed too fast, too much, too harsh
why exhaustion and overwhelm are part of your everyday.
You learned tools
You are building a larger sensory world,
where you can touch, see, and hear
with less fear.

32, I have seen you stumble and hesitate,

and I have seen you dive in
with more awareness than ever before.
I have seen you begin to accept what was
So you can live more easily with what is.
You still donned your mourning veil at times;
you also celebrated life.

Contradictions abound, two truths existing in the same space
perspective on the past evolves.

healing friendship wounds and reconnecting
Transitioning, discussing, unfolding
Building a business wire by wire
print by print
piece by piece
trial and error
stretching out your muscles of
beginning
you gave yourself permission to not know

32,
I see you connecting to the world, giving yourself more space to live in it.
You are embraces being part of community again,
this time on your own terms, in your own way.
I see you shine more every day, the kind of shining that does not come from striving and exerting
but from being and following yourself.

***
Dear 33,
I love how symmetrical you are, the symbolism of your two 3s.
 You hold whispers of love and changes, new steps and lessons
dances and conversations.
You hold so many unknowns.
As the clock changes, as time tiptoes and leaps forward
I welcome you.