For the Love of...

Charleston, SC
Currently listening to Otis Redding.

I read a complete strangers blog posting the other morning. It chronicled a struggle that had been going on for years, a confession of sorts, unbeknownst to her readers. Her words were carefully selected, thought out, it was a tender and tearful admission of the potency "rose colored glasses" can be when worn by the rest of the world. She felt alone in her plight, and I could relate. There is a certain expectation we have of the entire world when our life seems to be in disarray. We expect everyone to acknowledge or recognize our internal voice saying, "Heyy! A little help here? My life is in shambles and I am uncertain of the future, please pay attention to me." Unfortunately, even our closest friends will not know our struggles unless we first admit them. We are not surrounded by mind readers. We will more than likely throw our hands in the air, in a defeated state and scream, " For the love of..[ fill in the blank]. Sometimes that helps, odd as that may sound. But the admission that something is out of place in a world that tries its damnedest to tell us when we should be one way or another, gives us the first bit of clarity we've had in a long time. It allows other people to see what we need, it allows other people to love us. And consequently help us. The rose colored glasses are taken off by the select few people who care to see and love what's behind the impeccably strong act one has had to keep up for however long.

While we're on the subject of love, February seems to magnify it. Either the presence of, or its absence. There is a lot of pink, lots of roses, dinner reservations, proposals, I love you's, I heart you's, and more candy hearts with the words "be mine" on them than I care to eat. But I eat them anyways, every year. Regardless if Hallmark contributes to the magnification of love, the simple fact is, love is one of those intoxicating forces inexplicably available to everyone, for everything. I used to fall victim to the thought that there is one kind of love, reserved only for human beings. And while February, again, advertises for the love of another person, there are so many kinds of love. Not mention an infinite number of things to love.

In a study conducted by myself and shared with no one until now; I came to the conclusion: that which is loved, is best is loved without seeking something in return, or in search of personal gain. Just loved. Purely, for the love of loving. In support of my theory, I first present the innumerable times I say, "I love... [ insert inanimate object]. Something such as the smell of a wood burning stove, salty ocean air, dogs in my lap, the gnocchi appetizer at my favorite restaurant, or the sunrise in an unknown city, triggers that ease of loving something just because you can. Unforced and unhurried love. Understandably, there is a difference between the way I love chocolate and a person, neither is wrong. Love is love however it is felt, sometimes it is a helpless mortal sin, but you cannot help who or what you love. If my mortal sin comes in the form of chocolate, so be it.

The second and most pertinent, perhaps, in my theory of loving is, I cannot be more compassionate to others than I am towards myself. I am sure people have tried, but there is a slight void, the sound of escaping air where something should be sealed and whole. We all thrive in the light of love, its shadow even. And it cannot be fully given to another if I cannot first feel it for myself.

So what is my point? I started this entry about one woman's ability to stiff arm her way through the the hardest part of life she has ever known. She persevered; not without help. And not in the absence of love. My point is, there is no absence of love. There is always someone or something to love. It is not for the faint hearted. You have to live with an open heart, at risk of having it broken. Open hearted living is something not easily accomplished, it takes time. Trial and error even. Trust. Patience. Understanding. Forgiveness. All of which must be turned inward before they can be given. However, amidst the whirlwind of the art of loving, there is someone out there who has been through this before, someone who's got it right. And the most overlooked fact in the world is, while you are on your own personal journey, there is always....always someone who is loving you.


So when you love, love it good and fierce and without question. Love because you can, because you have been given the chance.