“Love is not blind. Love sees what is most true.” – Unknown
While on plane heading for a business meeting/vacation, I decided to share some thoughts about love. As you will read, I don’t claim to be an expert in the subject, but I do believe in sharing my heart. Wrong, right or indifferent.
Human emotions are so unpredictable, or perhaps what is predictable is the fact we really never know how one will respond, or act out when their feelings get involved. One moment you know for sure that you’re ready to walk away from someone or some thing, but in the next moment, with all that is within you, you find yourself running back. I can’t explain it, nor do I understand it, even a little. It is what it is I suppose.
Our hearts get entangled and there we are, like a beached whale on the shore, vulnerable to all that is coming. It’s almost like paralysis, inside our heads we see ourselves functioning properly, but in a contrasting reality, we remain stuck in the same place. A place not of peace and solace, but of emptiness and desolation. I can’t explain it, nor do I understand it, even a little. It is what it is I suppose.
There you were, speaking your truth of new found freedom, release and new purpose out loud, yet only in the mirror first. I suppose we all have to begin somewhere. Is it a declaration of the true new you at infancy, or an observation of what you wish to become, or is it the lingering fear that you must do something different, something bold before you die? I can’t explain it, nor do I understand it, even a little. It is what it is I suppose.
They say first believe it, then it can become a reality. What happens before we believe? I think we must die or experience something close to it. Whatever that is. I suppose a small part of me is still not ready to die, fully. My quandary is determining if I’m being selfish, hard-headed or just not ready to release the old me entirely. Will time tell if I made the right decision? Maybe, if I have enough of it left to figure it out. I can’t explain it, nor do I understand it, even a little. It is what it is I suppose.
There was a quote that stated, “The beginning of love is to let those we love be perfectly themselves, and not to twist them to fit our own image. Otherwise we love only the reflection of ourselves we find in them.” ~ Thomas Merton
Could it be, that we’re too afraid to allow another to be who they are? Why would we choose to be with them then? If they’re aren’t enough in our minds, why do we torture them with self-deprecating doubt. Are they the ones exemplifying real love, while we live in an illusion of what we think we need and want? I can’t explain it, nor do I understand it, even a little. It is what it is I suppose.
Can you imagine perfect love? Is it one waiting for someone to become what they aspire to be? Is it one following another across the globe, just to be next to him/her? Is it the brokenness that we all experience at some point in our lives, and the other accepting who we are in that state? Could it be, giving everything you have without expecting anything in return, even when your family and friends have determined that you are crazy and have ostracized you? Does it even exist? I can’t explain it, nor do I understand it, even a little. It is what it is I suppose.
Endless songs and poetry have expressed the grief of love, the depths of love, the angst that penetrates the heart that has been broken. Who can fully understand the heart? Even the Bible declares it a mystery not easily understood. So I suppose we will keep singing and writing about our pursuit of the greatest love, the love for another. And whether we fail in our attempts to experience that thing which captivates our hearts like no other can, for better or for worse, we’ll keep pressing towards it. Because it’s what we must do. That’s why they say love makes the world go around. I can’t explain it, nor do I understand it, even a little. It is what it is I suppose.