Some of our clearest moments come from our darkest times.
Maybe it’s because things are so dark, noisy, muddled, unclear, that the only way back to clarity is to focus.
Squint. Find a point of light. A pinhole. Home in. Move toward it. And hope that pinhole doubles in size, as you walk toward it.
Until it goes from a single pinhole of light to a porthole in the darkness.
Until it goes from a porthole in the darkness to a window.
Until it goes from a window in the darkness to a door. A door you can walk through. Back into that light.
And depending on your energy and state, you can stop walking whenever you need. For a break. At pinhole, porthole, window, and even closed but unlocked door. To catch your breath and continue your journey.
Forward. Always forward.
When Daddy died, I rethought a lot of things. I went from being outside in the sun to back in the darkest, Vantablack, environ.
And I did what we all should do. Took a deep breath, and looked for that pinhole of light. And walked toward it. Love was that pinhole.
My walk forwards towards new love was conducted in words and sounds and still images. Posted on my blog and here on Facebook.
This one. From Valentine’s Day is thus worth resharing.
Because the past year has taught me, and as much as I don’t want to think of John Mayer whenever I utter this phrase I do, “Love is a verb.”
It’s all action, work, effort. It’s active.
And the best way to love is to start by understanding that though your love for someone can be infinite, your ability to express it, and their ability to receive it, is finite. Because they will leave. You will leave. In some way.
Keep that in mind.
>>> At some point all that’s left of your love is what people can or choose to carry forward. Give them an abundance so even if they take just a little of what you’ve given, they’ll carry forward, a lot. <<<
And whatever conclusion that leads you to, let it lead you to a place that clarifies what love, wanting, feeling, and expressing, means to you. Let it walk you from pinhole to porthole to window and through door.To what love means to you and what it means for you to love.
For me, it’s outlined in the post I wrote about this 3 years ago when Daddy died:
But I’ll restate. I mean for the few of you that read this far I’ll spare the extended effort of reading the below.“
#iamgrateful and #iamthankful that I kissed my Daddy on the cheek every single time I saw him, and every single time I said goodbye. (No matter the dynamic, mind you.) Including when I landed in India last week. My love for my father is infinite and will carry with me until my own last breath. My ability to say it to him directly, and to know that he has heard me, to make sure he knows he was loved, feels today, very much in the realm of the finite.
Love your family. Love your friends. Love the people around you. Not the way you want to love them, but the way they want to be loved. Love them not so you can say aloud that you expressed your love, but rather, so that someone very comfortably and very consistently and very clearly says ‘I know I am loved, and I know you love me.’”
I love you all. I do. Happy Valentine’s Day.