Wednesday, November 7, 2012

Currie's Gratitude 7 November 2012



It is always a risk
Love
ALWAYS
Yet more than that
Love is a gift
One that is meant to
Give as well as receive
Easily
Quickly

There is this wonderment in me somedays, where I ponder whether I will love again. I mean, that sort of Love, NOT the love that is as essential to me as breathing. And while I have heard the “arguments” for it, where I am Right Now is happy without it. Very happy. Exponentially happier than at any of those in love times that dot the landscape of my Life.

This makes perfect sense, yet it causes me to wonder if I am BEing too quick to dismiss the possibility of something simply BEcause: A. it hurt so much when I lost it, NOT just the last time, but all the times BEfore; and B. I canNOT deny that I am happier in this part of my Journey than at any time prior…

Of course, this makes it sound like Love, that sort of Love, is a commodity one can pick up at the market.

I am thinking that it matters little what I imagine myself choosing about this. The point of Life is Love and loving quickly hasn’t much at all to DO with that sort of Love anyway. No, Really

I love you, Currie

2 comments:

carol l mckenna said...

Fantastic collage with wonderful words and colors ~ it will all evolve ~ 'Am wishing for you what you wish for yourself' ~ (A Creative Harbor) ^_^

Ginger Davis Allman (The Blue Bottle Tree) said...

All of my life I wished and hoped and ached for "that sort of love". I never felt complete without it, always lacking and feeling hopeless. I married, had children, lived my life, divorced, lived more. I still ached for that sort of love. Then one day, at age 40, single mom with three kids some guy in the UK fell in love with me online. Bam. That sort of love. Five years later and married happily ever after I live in "that sort of love" everyday. And you know what? I'm still me. I'm still empty at times, still searching, aching, growing. I have love, but contrary to my lifelong assumption, it didn't fix anything. And if this love disappears tomorrow I'll still have me. The constant that has always been there. Flawed, trying, striving. And happiness doesn't have anything to do with having that sort of love.