This Thing Called Love

There’s less leaves and the colors are fading. The dark brook water shimmers with pale blue light as it wends it way between the rocks and forms a pool within my sight. It’s cold this morning and by 8:30 a.m., the thermometer has not yet reached 40 degrees.

I put on painting clothes this morning figuring this afternoon should be warm enough to finish painting the new garage steps. This might be the last day of fairly warm weather until spring.

Leo, the cat, came by while it was still dark, just before 7. I couldn’t see him, but he reaches out and rattles the screen to the sliding door when he wants in. He ate the breakfast Pele hadn’t finished, then asked to go back out, his tail spotted with burrs. (I don’t know from what, they’re flattish … almost reminding me of a black forked tongue of a snake.

Yesterday I got on the topic of love again. Every so often I go through this and it’s an issue I struggle with. (Maybe it’s from living alone.) This go ‘round with the subject came after reading a section from “The Gifts of Imperfection” by Brene Brown.

I’ve read this book before, but evidently, I haven’t done the self-work needed to move past the heartache of past loves. I like myself and I’m happy with where I am in my life, but can I say I love myself? Have I been so wounded by love in the past that I will never dare love again?

Gosh, just writing about this makes my gut cringe with fear. Fear?

Brown says, “If we want to fully experience love and belonging, we must believe we are worthy of love and belonging.”

Do I not believe I’m worthy? Is there a gremlin inside whispering I’ve failed so many times I should hold back and never love again?

The answers do not come easy. It can be very confusing. Love is complicated because there are so many nuances of love. There’s the love for mate/spouse, love for family, friends, and pets. And, look at how many things we can love – and with passion: music, nature, art, books, etc. That one word, LOVE, encompasses so much!

Should love of self be up front? Many believe if you don’t love yourself, how can you fully others? Can I love myself? And if I can’t say I love myself, can I really love others?

I love my family. I love my friends. I love lots of things, but do I FEEL loved? Ahhh, maybe this is the crux of the matter. Logically, I know they love me, but do I feel the love in my heart, in my whole being? Ah, here’s the dilemma. When I don’t feel loved is when I feel lonely.

Which sometimes doesn’t make sense. For instance, yesterday I went to breakfast with an artist friend and we had the most wonderful conversations covering many topics. Later I had conversation with others, so why did I sit here feeling lonely?

I thought about how easy it is to let the words, “Love you,” roll off your tongue or typed at the end of an email or letter. Yes, I love them, but how often is it said putting feeling into the meaning?

It reminds me when you ask someone how they are and they reply, “Fine.” How are you and fine are just words in greeting and too often have no real caring by the asking and response. When you ask, do you really CARE how the other feels? I do, but I also realize how easily these words slip out just to be said.

Saying “Love you” (or “Love you, too” as a response) can have the same feel. It’s something you’re supposed to say to those you love. And we have to say it because it’s important to let those you love, know you love them … though we probably don’t say it to friends, and yet, we do love them.

So, what does all this mean? I’m not 100% sure yet, but it’s something to think about.

I know one thing that holds me back is the sexual side of love, and sex isn’t anything I ever care about again. I have men friends who I love – as I love my women friends – as friends. But I could never say that. Plus, there’s that old stickler of “neighbors will talk.”

Oh gosh, this gives me a chuckle and goes back to my unmarried uncle years ago being nervous when my mum and aunt visited for fear the neighbors would talk about him having women in his house – even though they were his sisters.

Thank you for listening. It helps me sort through life as I strive to live wholeheartedly. Maybe the situation isn’t as complicated as I’m making it. But I feel there’s something missing in me. It’s probably love – maybe I need to fully let it in to feel it – and I’ve forgotten how to do that. And trust I can be loved with no strings attached.

Another hour has passed, and the thermometer now reads over 40 degrees. The titmice, chickadees, and cardinals are searching the deck for seeds. Guess it’s time to put up the feeders – I LOVE my little birdies!