Hey there, It’s me. I’ve been thinking….again. While muddling through the random thoughts that take up play space in my mind, I latched onto one that seemed to be seeking attention. I considered for a moment and then let my mind take flight with it. I wonder how many of us have contemplated love. I mean love in all forms not just unrequited love. How do you know it’s love? Maybe what you have is just really some lukewarm, hazy rendition of what you think love ought to be. I don’t know and who am I to judge outside of my own little personal bubble, right?
In my life I can say I know love in many, different forms. I am in love with my husband. My children, all quite different, I love immeasurably. Immediate family, I love indifferently. Friends, well to be honest I am not the friendy type even though I love people. I love writing in a way I cannot even describe other than to say when I am writing I am one with my thoughts, feelings, and words. I love animals too, have several in fact and love to smooch them and call them lovely self esteem building names like dandy dog and fabulous feline. I know, I can be a dork; call it part of my charm; I digress though.
I love electricity, thank you Tesla! I mean, I really am enamoured with it. How did people manage before its invention? In fact, I love it even more when there’s a power outage. That second you hear every appliance whirring back to life is joyous. I feel like I just won a gold medal, like I have defeated the ghosts of centuries past who went without such luxuries. I also love warm coats on cold days, watermelon, card games, and when I catch the bus on time. I could go on, but I am sure you see where I am going with all this.
With all these different types of love how do you know it really is love? Maybe I don’t even fully grasp the concept of love if I am using it in sentences to convey my feelings of a jacket on a cold day. Seems as if I am sort of making a mockery of the word, yet my spirit tells me, “Nope, you’re right.” If my spirit is telling me I am right then maybe my mind is over thinking this whole condition of love. Maybe the point is to understand and name the subtle variances and nuances in each degree of love. Of course, I could then start delegating out new words from Roget’s Thesaurus to signify each level or aspect of love but quite honestly I don’t have the want or convicton to do so.
So what I came up with in the end is that by having known the absence of love for a long measure in my life it has made me more critical and analytical of love and all its forms. This isn’t a bad thing though. I am able to love things more fully now having gone without. I look at things, and by things I literally mean things, such as: a chair, a coin, a car, etc. and realize how much I love these things and the possibilities and opportunities they afford us. Crazy talk here, but I swear I can see past the thing and admire the essence of what it was and is and that I love.
I never thought I’d say it, feel it, or admit it but having lived the past I have I am able to love the present and the possibilities of the future. I love and am loved, in many ways by many people, places, and events. I waited a long time for it and searched even. Seems like when I stopped looking and started simply living, love found me. I couldn’t express it any other way but to say I have been blessed by some Divine Force that sees me worthy of finally noting, giving, and receiving love. Love is a rambling weed that has taken over the garden of who I am and who I wish to become. I kind of like the wild and whimsical cottage garden that recognizes that the weed is simply a flower too looking for the sun and a bit of love.
I wish the same for you.
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