Major changes lodge me precariously on the edge of something I don't quite understand, not that I understood that much to begin with, but definitely and not especially now. There is a darkness present at the moment, hanging over me like an overbearing bully, and it taunts and challenges me. Exhausted I stare defiantly at it, feeling much like a lightweight wrestler or a boxer who is going up against the champ who is double his height and three times his weight. He has been pulverized in the ring but refuses to stay down. This is where I am at.
It's not that I don't want to give up, but I can't. I'm like the punching bag that gets whacked over and over again and yet pops back up. Given the choice I would probably play dead, but it isn't in me. I'm not sure why. It's both a blessing and a curse.
As ridiculous as it sounds, I feel as if love has deserted me. "What makes now so different?" I wonder. Certainly there have been other times in my physical existence where love seemed to be a not so nice four-letter word. For some reason, though, it is different this time. Maybe it is because I am in the process of a transformation of sorts.
My life has been one critical event after another, but they usually come one at a time, not all at once. Sometimes there was even a period of rest in between them, but it is not so at the moment. Presently I feel as if a pile of manure has been dumped over my head, burying me completely, and I am blinking back the tears so as not to make a bad situation worse. What makes matters more difficult is that I am the cause of at least part of it, necessary but still unpleasant. The timing may have been completely off, but who would've known?
Even still, throughout it all, I have realized that love is love. It does not care about the details of my every day affairs. It has no vested interest in what I think or feel or say or do. It just is. What does that mean? I'm not sure. I am still in the process of discovering.
All I do know is from my earliest days there have been times when I have known great absences of love, and I have tried time and time again to fill that void by giving as much love as I was possibly capable of. I did this because I knew in some strange way that this was me, this was my mission, to be and give love. What I didn't know is that I was missing perhaps the other integral part of the equation...receiving love. Maybe this is the key. One must have a balance of not only giving love but receiving it.
Some people are so battered by love gone wrong that they never allow themselves to be open to it again. To me this is incredibly sad. Alfred Lord Tennyson said, "It's better to have loved and lost than to have never loved at all." I tend to agree.
I am on the opposite end of the spectrum. The more I suffer, the more determined I am to discover true love, except nowadays after much turmoil I am willing to let true love find me. And, if I get hurt in the process, then I will pick myself up, dust myself off, and try, try, try again because I cannot imagine a life forever without it. In fact I don't think that it's even in my genetics to do so.
This quote sums it up quite nicely for me. "If you have it [Love], you don't need to have anything else, and if you don't have it, it doesn't matter much what else you have." ~ Sir James M. Barrie. And so it is.
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