A Many Splendored Thing
In his dread-locked, leather-clad glory, Lenny Kravitz, in Let Love Rule, tells us:
“Love transcends all space and time
And love can make a little child smile
Can't you see this won't go wrong
But we got to be strong
We can't do it alone”
From transcendence to understanding we can’t do it alone. How do we love? In action? Are we tolerant? Patient? Kind? In the present? Do we cling to the past? Freezing ourselves and others in time? Are we the same person we were at 18? 30? Last year? Yesterday?
I am lately seeing a meme that, paraphrased, reminds us that we can never fully know what someone else is going through. Brené Brown gives permission to the both/and aspect of how to love others when it is difficult. When we bump into someone else who is hard to be with, deal with, be around, we can try to remember:
“All I know is that my life is better when I assume that people are doing their best. It keeps me out of judgment and lets me focus on what is and not what should or could be.
In this Atlantic article, it may seem odd to bring the words combat and love to the same notion. Here, we are called to combat fear not with calm or courage but with love. The world may seem less threatening and scary when we are in loving contact with others. This isn’t just something that happens. We have to pursue it, like Hafiz’s poem telling us ever since happiness found us, it’s been “running through the streets” trying to find us. This includes pursuing loving ourselves. Are you?
Trying this isn’t about acting like our fear doesn’t exist or pretending we’re not scared. It is about being with our fear and inviting love at the same time.
Love may not look like someone saying I love you. It could look like:
I brought you a glass of water.
I want to hear what you have to say.
Here are some homemade cookies.
Have you read this? It made me think of you.
Call when you get there.
Did you pack a coat?
Let me get the door for you.
Good morning.
Good night.
Or, like this past Saturday, when our friend, Margaret, and I sang the opening to Raindrops Keep Fallin’ on My Head on the sidewalk remembering the iconic Burt Bacharach and his timeless message that what the world needs now is love, sweet love.
Try this:
Write about a time when your heart was open and you loved unconditionally. Include what unconditionally means to you.
Write about a time when you felt loved. Include every delicious detail that you can think of. With a sense of wonder; ponder how to invite this feeling again.
Tell someone you love them. Out loud, face to face if possible. Be with all the feelings that show up and love them all. Be curious about not being attached to the outcome. Write about what happens, particularly inside of you.
Let me know how it goes. I’d love to hear from you.