Infusion

A piece started almost a year ago, and finished tonight: 

Love. I have written as I was falling in love. I have written as I deepened in love. I have written when I expanded in love. I have written when I contracted in love. I have written when I hated love. I have written when I didn’t know what love wanted from me; why it wanted me to be tortured. I have written when love healed the edges but couldn’t reach the center. I have written when I was released from love. When I diverged from love. When I surfaced from love. When I detached from love and forgot love’s name.

I think when I detached from my ex, I left love behind. So much of love and him and us and fate were intertwined. I couldn’t release myself from just one. I had to walk away from everything, just to save my life.

But in the process, I forgot about the brilliance of love. I forgot about the tenderness of intimacy. Of familiarity. Of safety. Of being known. Of being seen. Of taking someone else in. There is something so soft about love, isn’t there? Something so…unknowable. Something incredible. Something stirring.

I miss love. It was a friend of mine once ago. It took care of me. It brought fire. It brought clarity. It brought joy, I think. There was a lot of joy. A lot of laughter. I miss all of it…

***

These days I write of self-love. Of finding the roots that cultivate good-for-the-soul love for yourself. I write of finding love in nature and its magnificence. I write of finding love for one’s body, one’s mind, and one’s spirit. I write of love cultivated in friendships: love that shows up for you, again and again. I write of family love: a love that endures the waves of growing up. I write of searching for love that makes you feel whole. I write of love for one’s hobbies that become passions. I write of love that doesn’t require shrinking but expanding. Love that brings calmness and sweetness to you. Love that feels easy. Love that creates space for you and others to thrive. Love that is filled with belly laughs and quiet understanding. Love that isn’t necessarily attached to one person but is infused into all the elements of this life.

Maybe love didn’t leave me like I thought it had. Maybe it reshaped and ventured out. Maybe it was always here, asking me to expand to find it.

Embracing love has been the greatest journey of my life. I hope I keep searching for it…

 

“Nobody but nobody makes it out here alone. What really matters now is love. I mean, that condition in the human spirit that is so profound it allows us to rise. Strength, love, courage, love, kindness, love, that is really what matters.”

 – Dr. Maya Angelou

Building Home(s)

If the life you are building looked like a house, what would it look like? What would it feel like?

How did you build it? From love? Necessity? Both? Neither?

Did you make it a home? Does it feel like it is your own? Does it feel strong and vibrant and changing and fulfilling? Does it feel suffocating? Airy? Expansive? Exposed shiplap? Does it feel like a place we can welcome others in? Does it feel safe? Do you?

I want to build a home out of my life that is beautiful at its core. It is warm. It is inviting. Solace and peace whisper in the paint color. It is vibrant and steady. The beams are strong and radiant. The ocean is nearby. Salt speaks to the foundation, teaches it how to cleanse; how to endure. The patio has fireflies and crystal lights. Everything, illuminated. It is my own. It is awe-inspiring.

We can’t build homes out of human beings.

Maybe we can build them out of our souls.

 

“I long, as does every human being, to be at home wherever I find myself.” – Dr. Maya Angelou