![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
greenstormWell, truthfully sunrise was a little while ago. It woke me, though, when it got bright enough on our little apartment building tucked into the trees.
Right now the light is stretching all the way from the far mountains in golden-clear lines to cast the shadows of mountaintops and trees across the clearing behind the house. It's quiet enough in the morning to hear the birds, or maybe they only sing in the mornings? The silence crystallises around those tiny sounds, the air is cool and fluid, and I can hear a car pass once in awhile in a quiet distant sort of roar.
I realise that I like to live on a hill, above the bustle rather than in it but still not too distant to miss that distant passage of traffic. That's one of those preferences that probably solidified growing up, like big windows and high ceilings and rooms with actual walls instead of open unstructured areas.
The Ethical Slut is a good read when I need to think. The tone is so gentle and the things that are suggested so often right on the button that it can't help but carry me along towards a solution rather than leaving me stuck brooding on the difficulty.
Here is what I think is important in interacting with other people: Mindfulness. Self-awareness.
If I were going to create a moral code to foist onto the world, this would be prime material: thou shalt not blame thy actions on the unknown. I'm not, of course, going to do any such thing.
It's important to me to know why I do things and then to act authentically on my motives instead of acting on the symptoms of my motives which so often do not come out in a useful way. The question, what do I want? is a very important one to ask, over and over, and it really is frightening how often my behaviour isn't tailored to getting what I want but instead reacting in a negative way to not getting what I want.
What do I want?
Love, affection, support, interest.
I may want understanding, but I'm not sure on that yet. There seem to be some subconscious things that tend to come up when that gets too deep.
Here's an interesting secret: I'm a little sad to be going to TOH this morning. We'll head out in a little bit, and I've been away long enough that I'm not certain of my connection to the people there right now. Rather, I'm not sure of my reception. I've been recently reconnecting with the SO, and beginning to feel close-ish to him here. So this is me going into an unknown situation instead of staying in a comfortable one.
Altogether, what am I trying to say? Nothing, I suppose, in particular. I used to get up early in the morning so that I could have time to myself, silently, before anyone else awoke. I have enough time to myself now that I miss people in the mornings, I don't savour the solitude so much (or is it just that my garden isn't big enough for long walks?). The morning is still my most fragile time, though, before all the shields come up to keep other peoples' words out and their thoughts at bay.
Maybe I should try making the time before seven in the morning a truly quiet time, where I don't allow livejournal voices (or any other internet voices) to intrude?
I'm always amazed by how easy it is for a stray phrase or a stray word to unsettle things. While, in the end, this is just how I am and I need to accept that, I am still curious about how widespread it is, how normal.
Mindfulness says: no, you're not. You just need reassurance that it's alright to feel that way.
Thanks, mindfulness. I'm going to go do the garden walk now and then pack. Take care, and have a lovely morning. I intend to.
Right now the light is stretching all the way from the far mountains in golden-clear lines to cast the shadows of mountaintops and trees across the clearing behind the house. It's quiet enough in the morning to hear the birds, or maybe they only sing in the mornings? The silence crystallises around those tiny sounds, the air is cool and fluid, and I can hear a car pass once in awhile in a quiet distant sort of roar.
I realise that I like to live on a hill, above the bustle rather than in it but still not too distant to miss that distant passage of traffic. That's one of those preferences that probably solidified growing up, like big windows and high ceilings and rooms with actual walls instead of open unstructured areas.
The Ethical Slut is a good read when I need to think. The tone is so gentle and the things that are suggested so often right on the button that it can't help but carry me along towards a solution rather than leaving me stuck brooding on the difficulty.
Here is what I think is important in interacting with other people: Mindfulness. Self-awareness.
If I were going to create a moral code to foist onto the world, this would be prime material: thou shalt not blame thy actions on the unknown. I'm not, of course, going to do any such thing.
It's important to me to know why I do things and then to act authentically on my motives instead of acting on the symptoms of my motives which so often do not come out in a useful way. The question, what do I want? is a very important one to ask, over and over, and it really is frightening how often my behaviour isn't tailored to getting what I want but instead reacting in a negative way to not getting what I want.
What do I want?
Love, affection, support, interest.
I may want understanding, but I'm not sure on that yet. There seem to be some subconscious things that tend to come up when that gets too deep.
Here's an interesting secret: I'm a little sad to be going to TOH this morning. We'll head out in a little bit, and I've been away long enough that I'm not certain of my connection to the people there right now. Rather, I'm not sure of my reception. I've been recently reconnecting with the SO, and beginning to feel close-ish to him here. So this is me going into an unknown situation instead of staying in a comfortable one.
Altogether, what am I trying to say? Nothing, I suppose, in particular. I used to get up early in the morning so that I could have time to myself, silently, before anyone else awoke. I have enough time to myself now that I miss people in the mornings, I don't savour the solitude so much (or is it just that my garden isn't big enough for long walks?). The morning is still my most fragile time, though, before all the shields come up to keep other peoples' words out and their thoughts at bay.
Maybe I should try making the time before seven in the morning a truly quiet time, where I don't allow livejournal voices (or any other internet voices) to intrude?
I'm always amazed by how easy it is for a stray phrase or a stray word to unsettle things. While, in the end, this is just how I am and I need to accept that, I am still curious about how widespread it is, how normal.
Mindfulness says: no, you're not. You just need reassurance that it's alright to feel that way.
Thanks, mindfulness. I'm going to go do the garden walk now and then pack. Take care, and have a lovely morning. I intend to.
