Musings on L'Amour

"Love is many things, it is varied. But one thing love is not, and can never be, is unsure."- Maya Angelou

I’m 31. And, though I crave it, what do I know of love?

I can say with conviction that, whether gently and slowly or with terrifying aggression, it opens you. Whether it tears you open, or opens you like a flower, you're never left the same.

I know that I’ve experienced a profound intensity pulling me toward another human being. I know that my heart has been stirred and soared to heights that rival the heavens. I know I've met people whom my soul recognized from another lifetime. And I know that I’ve experienced this with more than one person. I’ve experienced cosmic connections that are just inexplicable. I’ve had connections so deep, they seemed to exist on another plane; needing no verbal validation, almost lending themselves to telepathy. I’ve known loves that transcended this life and touched the next in a mystifying knowing that my late father was himself giving his blessing with little signs from above. I’ve been moved by love songs so exhilarating that movement poured out of my trunk and limbs, onto a dance studio floor so vehemently that I couldn’t contain myself. I’ve been so enamored with the language of love in its varied forms that it poured from my fingertips onto pages either burned to ash to be reborn in hope for the future, or scattered to the sands of time.

Now, I’m 31. I’m undeniably into my fourth decade on this plane. What have I learned? Honestly, not all love is meant to last. That is one of the hardest pills to swallow when from elementary days we're sold the dream of "the one".

And, though I have yet to be able to personally verify that romantic love can physically last a lifetime, I suppose I know it exists because I’ve also experienced it’s opposite. I’ve felt heartaches so deep that upon waking from the escape of sleep, I felt a hole in my chest so cavernous, so tangible, so drenched in heavy shadows that I was sure it would never be filled. When love doesn't last, it can make you question everything and attempt to empty yourself of previous truths so as never to have to go through that hurt again.

But something always did come along to wake my soul again. Whether it was another partner who taught me more than the last, love of my friends and family who were steadfast and reminded me of who I was, or love of my passion projects and diving deeper into my life’s calling ushering me into who I had yet to become; the hole has been filled with dimensions I could never have imagined.

Yet with my wisdom has come even more expansive depth of that hole initially dredged in my late teens. Though it is filled with so many levels of different kinds of love now and such a deeper understanding, I now feel a longing for something greater; something I cannot settle for less than.

If I’ve known such powerful loves, then healing from heartaches, transforming further into myself and waking to see new days has taught me that hope for something greater is so necessary. Wherever he is; my Heathcliff, my Florentino Ariza, my Edward Cullen, my Prince Henry, my English writer Christian, my Tristan, my Mr. Darcy, Mo Ghile Mear, I trust that whatever magnets within us which bring us to our mates, our fates, are closing the gap between us slowly. I believe that, although I have had several great loves thus far, that whatever lies ahead for me in love cannot even be permitted to begin if it cannot surpass that which I’ve already experienced.

I know this because with each love I've experienced, I've leaned harder into understanding what it is to love another. I've learned so much more what it is to be a partner.

I've learned love is not possession, for in grasping harder the heart of your beloved, in closing the fists, faster do the grains of what our hearts are made of slip through our fingertips. Only by gently cradling and creating space to simply exist in a trusted fortress, penetrable only to growth in the human experience, can love thrive.

I know what it is to love and to be loved in return. And though my heart has broken into so many pieces, it no longer even resembles its first form in this life, whatever divine material mended the cracks has made it so much stronger than I ever could have envisioned. I know that that which will protect my heart and allow it to safely move about the world is out there. My future mate or mates will never get the me that my past loves knew. And there is such esoteric beauty in that.

So many young women feel pressured to find love before my age and they don't internalize that it’s beautiful no matter when it is found. After all, we all know love takes many forms and thus can't always follow some formula or singular timeline. Sure, it would be so lovely to have been able to give my future mate all the time that I've spent with others. But there is such a sweetness from my vantage point, it makes me grateful to have known for so long that time in this life is not linear. Some love stories are epic novels with multiple volumes, and some are short stories. This doesn't make any of them any less full of love. (Thank you Carrie Bradshaw).

It is true that to earnestly love another, you must first know how to love yourself. Cliche as it sounds, it is a divine truth bursting with possibilities if we can abandon pressures of society. So while my mate finds his way to me, I toast to my own reunion. I celebrate the me yet to come, and invite you to do the same, even if you've found yours. Love is an experience to be renewed, over and over.

#centeryourspirit #letloveleadtheway #heartcenter