The Love You Give

Can you feel it? It’s wistful in nature. It arrives with little fanfare, with barely a hint of presence, because it doesn’t demand an announcement…it just is.

Yet the reeds remain in constant motion on the surface of the marsh, so it has to be there, right? Or is that simply the presence of the monster beneath, lying in wait, attempting once more to infect us with another mythical fear?

Whatever the case, it exists, because we FEEL it and it is possible that its presence be felt without being seen.

It is subtle in the way it moves, so gracefully in and out of our consciousness like a ballerina, or feature dancer, leaving us awestruck, and tearful in their flawless execution of the most beautiful rendition of Swan Lake ever brought to the stage.

It is worth the price of admission, or the patience and perseverance required for a sighting in the presence of a cool, damp, autumn morn, a hint of fog obscuring our view of what we sense all around us, that which feels so obvious yet remains ever elusive.

We search constantly, futilely, knowing that the next scratch on the ticket will show a proven winner. How often do we win? How often do we re-enter the fray, only to be disappointed by minimal returns, or total loss?

It’s addictive, the allure. The realization that someone, somewhere, is bound to win…why not us?

Why do we toil in such foolhardy ventures? Places we know our seed will bear no fruit, but continue to convince ourselves it is possible?

Do we fear failure that much, the rejection of our emotional investment?

We do it every day in our financial decisions, choices we make regarding our dietary requirements, and our quest for raising the perfect child, reaching the ultimate rung on the ladder in our career, in being everything to everyone, except ourselves.

Do we not trust ourselves enough to know it is real, or fear the loss that may accompany that satisfaction, so anxiety ridden that the mere thought is absolutely crippling in nature?

Why?

What does this life truly have to offer if not the wholeness of heart and light and life in our soul?

The rest is what we’re taught to believe; that success lies in titles, and things, and brands and money, and bullshit.

But, what about what we FEEL-what we can keep safely tucked away for eternity, when they close the box one last time and put us in the dirt?

The rest?

We leave that for those who are soon to follow, that still require that cleansing or reprioritization, that came to us by accident, or intentionally, or by life letting us know our bodies have had enough, and allows only the things that matter, to come with you.

And that is you.

And the love you give.

I looked, but you were always there, awaiting my arrival, announcing yourself by being, not precocious in nature or flaunting who you felt yourself to be, but by simply being who you are…because it is enough, and it is perfect.

I just failed to see it, insistent on more, the liars pretense that our real joy and irreverent happiness comes from those things on the surface.

There’s a reason superficial satisfaction is considered a shallow quality in human behavior-because it is too easy.

We fail to challenge our emotional lockbox when the only requirement is blowing the dust free of the combination.

The challenge is in giving ourselves approval to open our doors intellectually, with an understanding that there is undeniable depth in the human spirit and that beauty is capable of a far more infinite measure of love, than the indulgence of the physical self.

We are all growing old.

We are all going to die.

We are all afraid.

Afraid that the loss of having such a perfect gift bestowed on you is some sort of demented retribution for ever having accepted the gift at all.

Love lasts. I know that now. You’ve brought that irrefutable truth into my life, breathed it into me so that it is absorbed by every cell in this earthly form, and will envelope me in peace and tranquility in our journey throughout the next life.

Because you will be with me. Forever.

We may part briefly in the physical sense, but our souls live on in each other.

We were created for each other.

One can live without the other until they are brought back together, reunited by eternity’s bond. And, as impossible as that may be to fathom, imagine the celebration of that reunion. It’s beautiful, romantic, and pre-destined.

For us.

You came to me and redefined what I believed love to be-not perfect, in the sense that humans attempt to be flawless in their temporary occupancy of this place, but in the knowledge that flaws ARE truth.

It is a reflection of us as imperfect, accepting and embracing those flaws which help forge the sanctity of this “relationship,” a word that fails to fulfill the essence of this conjoining of two spirits, to one.

This is the love you give: the promise that failure is an option, because there is success in evolution and compromise.

The realization that reality doesn’t promise us anything, but does offer boundless hope.

The fact that unconditional love and favor are not only possible, they’re mandatory.

We are imperfect in the lives we lead as individuals, but perfect in the compliment of our life together.

You love me, because, and it comes easy even though it is hard.

When you love completely, with the love you give, it is a gift you literally give forever.

I love you with all that I am, have been and ever will be.

Our today is another link in the extension of our forever.

I will show you through the love I give.

Yours,

D