By Monica C. Voskamp
I’m scared. I don’t want to admit how terribly frightened I am of letting love in, of seeing what love could be, of stopping all my rules for what love should be.
It hit me today..Maybe love doesn’t have such a black & white definition. Maybe love is so big, ultimately, it cannot be defined. That scares me. It scares me something cannot be defined!
Funny, that makes me want to run the opposite way if that’s the case. Here I’ve been trying to chase down love, when love could actually be right here. I’ve been trying to box love in definition, when love is too big for words.
Love fireworks way beyond this universe. Why is that terrifying?! I know…because I know me…this is saying love is something beyond my control…beyond my containing, defining. Love isn’t about control. It is about freedom. It’s all about expression. Love is more like an unending gallery of mind-blowing art.
Unpredictable scares me, even if it’s good. I want to know, yet here I am realizing, I don’t know.
I can’t possibly know the scope of who or what is love. It’s like I’ve been trying to contain a whole galaxy of stars into a wee pocket and say “There. THAT pocket is love.”
How can I define something I didn’t even create? How can I explain something that was before my existence? How can I contain something supernatural?
I think love is a free spirit, unpredictable in it’s goodness. I suppose that’s what makes it so beautiful. Maybe that’s when I know love is love. It will be different, the real thing, legit…OR maybe it’s simply a case of opening my eyes and realizing where the beauty flows, there is love.
Love hasn’t been running from me. I’ve been running from love…
When I look outside my realm of defining, I see love is already here. It’s already been in my past, in my present, and will be in my future.
It might even be an insult to Love to try pack it up in a pretty box of fancy labeling. The human mind could never possibly label something so grand.
I’ve been focusing so hard on the logistics of love, I’ve missed the reality of love. It’s not meant to be black or white. It doesn’t answer to anything or anyone but it’s own name. Maybe love is more a free spirit embracing and constantly flowing through the universe, and not so much a script in a book.
I’m afraid to admit love is this… *different*. I’m afraid to admit love is rather simple. You don’t chase it, because love is already in every moment.
Odd, I’ve only understood love as complex and something that must be defined, something that is conditional to those elite who find. But do they? Do the chasers ever find? I’ve understood love as something beyond my figuring out yet something I forever NEED to chase down. Where’s the beauty in that, always chasing never attaining? It’s been the most frustrating pursuit…because it never ends.
I’ve been running the opposite direction, making excuses, hiding, denying, looking everywhere but right here. All this crazy effort I’ve been putting in so I never would have to confront the truth of love. I’ve been living with blinders on. Love isn’t complex, it is simple.
I’m suddenly being hit with a new wave: love is already here. It’s not something elusive. I guess I just needed to stand still & open up my mind.
Because it is here, love is here, streaming live.
Always believe. Always hope. Always love. ❤