Photo Provided By Josh Felise via Unsplash, kiss, couple, love

An Ode To Quiet Love

I forgot about quiet love.
Love that only subtly let’s its presence be known.
I forgot about gentle love.
Love that doesn’t prod or pull you into unnatural shapes and tornadoes.
I forgot so deeply that I held no regard,
no value,
no recognition for the thing.
I’d only known love out loud.
The kind of love that flings itself up the stairs
to make declarations before the world.
The kind that stamps its feet
and says every little sweet nothing way out loud
because the noise makes the love real and big.
Enduring love that stings,
but is oh so satisfying
in that you know the passion and tension
will keep you going
well past the point
“let’s call it quits and still be friends”.
I began to believe that quiet love
is not love at all,
but a passionless,
cowardice,
avoidance of emotion.
I couldn’t see it as a real love.
I thought real love twirls you around the dance floor,
fights for you –
even if it’s against you,
and makes the grand gesture at just the right time.
I forgot about silent love that penetrates the soul
with just time and no words.
I fought the legitimacy of it all –
my intimacy always caught in frenzy.
I forgot about quiet love.

This is when I realized that I had succumb to a hidden Disney princess dream. How had I deluded myself into thinking it had passed me over? There it was: I wasn’t waiting for the someone to rescue me from a tower – I’m no damsel, but I was waiting though for someone to make the grand gesture. Run to the mountaintops and scream their love for me, prove their love by slaying dragons. This dynamic set me up for even a nice enough guy to never get past the butterflies stage because he couldn’t pull off this thing. I didn’t even know what it was, but it was big and I knew at the end of it that I would know for sure this man would love me forever and there would be no question in my mind.

The only problem with that is the novelty wears off and I’m always looking for the next big gesture to keep my attention, to keep up with the definition of love that I’ve formed.

To be honest, I enjoy a great, big love with passion and healthy dose of tension to keep it going. In my frenzied nature I filled the canyons with thoughts and questions. Don’t question every quiet moment, every wordless exchange. Not everyone can be “on” all of the time. Not every moment is soaked in passion and bliss.

How loud someone confesses their love to you is a poor measuring stick.

What preconceived notion of love are you willing to release?

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How to Redefine Challenge and Endurance

The life I want isn’t quiet, calm, or easy. I want my comfort zone to crack, I want my walls to shake, I want my glass ceilings shattering left and right. Somewhere along the way not wanting to take shit became ungrateful and lazy. I don’t agree.

Once upon a time I found out my life path is endurance and my low-level, chaos loving, naive ego whispered into my ear “That makes sense, you can take an inordinate amount of shit and keep on going.” Somehow just running a marathon wasn’t enough if I didn’t have to wade through muck and ruck uphill. My life has taught me to embrace a certain amount of suck and that isn’t a bad thing, but challenge doesn’t always equal as suffering. It took me a long time to understand that this life path of endurance wasn’t an excuse to put my sanity on the line. I needed my endurance to lend its energy to something different; I needed something more than I can make it through the crappy situations that I keep exposing myself to.

I have found that there are three courses you can take through this metaphorical marathon of life.

The first course feels like stagnancy, but is really more like comfortable and boring as hell; you’re still moving forward at a steady pace, but there is nothing to challenge and there will never be any change. This may be the most comfortable path for some, but they will never be challenged, never grow, and if something blows into their path they will have no idea what do about it. Life as they know it would come to a screeching halt. On this path everyone is running their own race with blinders on. The runners are barely aware that anyone is beside them let alone willing to stop and help.

The second course is rebellion; this path is full of fire and brush and swamps and looking for love in all the wrong places. Upon first look one might think this is the path less taken, but this has its own special kind of miserable comfort. On this path people are only waiting to trip you up or bring you down to their level because, well, misery loves company.

The last course truly is the one less taken; this path transforms with you. As you grow to meet the current challenge it will push you further and further out of your comfort zone. This path knows you and your deepest fears, but the course is built for success. This is the path you will find the most support and love within and you will run faster and jump higher than you ever thought possible if you just put in the work.

Sometimes you change the course. Hell, I did a few times over.

I don’t want comfortable, I never have, but I have changed what I am willing to endure. Sure, life will throw curve balls. Sure, bad things may happen, but I am unwilling to intentionally run into the line of fire anymore in the name of endurance. Challenges may be uncomfortable, but ultimately result in growth. How do you know if you are suffering needlessly? One wonderful way to know the difference – you’ll end up right back where you started. If you’re on a hamster wheel there is no real forward momentum, only tireless scrambling and one hell of a leg cramp.

What patterns aren’t working for you anymore? What course do you think you’re running? I’d love to hear!

Love Always,
Me

Photo by: Volkan Olmez Provided via Unsplash.com Giving Up v. Giving it up

Why Giving It Up and Giving Up Aren’t the Same Thing

Surrender is sacred. It’s magic.

And there comes a time to lay everything down on the line and just give it all up. You’re restless as fuck. You’re burnt out on a life of settling and hoofing it down a conventional path. You want something more than comfortable; you’re out on the limb ready to pluck happiness from the tree. It’s there right in front of you, but you’re holding on too tightly to comfort so you can’t quite reach. If only you would let go, surrender to faith, and stomach the seconds of discomfort – you would no doubt reach it.

A Course in Miracles teaches that if you experience overwhelm, you are trying to take on everything yourself. Give it all up. Put it in the hands of the Universe or God or Buddha – whomever or whatever form of divinity that you are drawn to. Surrender. Before the broken hearts and debt and psychotic breaks. And once you think you’ve surrendered everything – surrender some more.

Don’t eschew faith as a crutch or the easy way out. Comfort is easy even if it’s miserable. But faith, surrender, can be so damn uncomfortable and hard. Faith under bliss is the easy part; the heart and soul of it doesn’t appear until your ass is in the fire. Let go of comfort. Let go of your way. Let go of the need for control. This is all fight, no flight. Surrender is not the same as quitting; there is no room for shame here.

It’s a hard road to joy, but every force in the universe is vying for you to get what you want. It’s up to you to choose that that is. If you fully choose joy, if you move your feet and pray, if you step fully into your truth (your power), well you just bet your sweet ass that you will have what you want – though it may not be what you expect.

In deep breaths, in prayers, in rituals, in tears, in whatever way you need. Let go and let God.

Love Always,
Me

Photo by Carli Jean, Provided by Unsplash Writing a Valentine's Day Letter

An Open Letter To My Future Lover on Valentine’s Day

Dear Lover,
I don’t crave that Valentine Hallmark kind of love.
That complete me, save me kind of love.
I don’t pine away for grand gestures
and white table cloths and candlelight.
I’ve no need for that clinging kind of love.
That lonely together, good enough kind of love.
You won’t seduce me with hollow promises.
I need the kind of love that can’t be tied up in ribbons and pretty things.
I crave that enduring kind of love,
that mountain moving kind of love.
I long for that when the shit hits the fan,
you’re still there holding my hand kind of love.

Oh, Dear Lover,
Take my hands in yours
for I seek not to be adorned with diamonds,
only with the threading of your fingers through mine.
Seduce me with your quiet understanding of me.
Rise where I fall and I’ll do the same when you slip beneath.
Let us perfect our ebb and flow beyond what can be hidden by sheets.
Leave your sweet nothings at the door
and whisper only your secret wishes.
Lay not only your wanting hands,
but your most precious dreams on me.
And don’t worry if you can’t find the words,
our language is not limited to syllables.

Dearest Lover,
We are a long way from starry-eyed adolescents
with perfection and pedestals
tied so tightly to our expectations of true love.
No, I will love you as you are now Рa warrior.
And though I crave your adoration and uplifting,
I was never built for pedestals.
Perfection is not in my nature.
All I ask is let me love you.