Letter 24: To Love

24 February 2012

Dear Love

So here we are – together, quietly, with everything in place. And because I’m sort of stubborn, this letter nearly didn’t happen, simply because some one said to me ‘and of course if you are writing love letters, you’ll write a letter to Love …’  Now see, these are MY love letters and I get to make up the rules … but any way, yes, here it indeed it is, and no, I did NOT write it on Valentines Day … I had my own original plans for that, so there …

So … awkward pause again … here we are … And what to say, how to start? Well the starting is the thing with love isn’t it? It can crop up unexpected, unbidden and suddenly shake your world or then again it can creep up on you and slowly envelope you, falling softly like a feather out of the sky.

And it can start as a glance, a realisation, a declaration; something known, on the tip of the tongue, at the back of the brain, from the bottom of the heart … And love comes in many shapes and shades and forms itself in solidarity or as shimmering waves.

So it’s not surprising then that we do not always see it in our space.  But spend a little time with love and you realise how much of it is around, when so often we are strangely pre-occupied with how little we have in our lives.  Yet love is an abundance – when you consider it in its’ every kind.  Start with the old cliché of loving yourself – the very best place to start I would say.  For me that is a waxing and waning; and far from loving myself, sometimes I can be my own worst hated enemy.  Yet it is the starting place of all our loves, so we must take care of loving ourselves.  Pay that first love its due, treat it with affection, shine a light on it and show yourself that you are loved.  And the easiest way is to be kind to yourself, do not silently chide or scold you and don’t listen to the dark voice that tells you that you cannot … be loved … instead love yourself.

And it reaches out, this love – to those around us, born to us, sent to us by fate as friends, chosen, gifted, sought.  So if we are not healed and solid in our own hearts, how can we reach out for more and give of our own best love?

For love moves and grows and can also stay unfettered in our being, unacknowledged for those around us, not named, when it should be praised and thanked and explored.  Well I’m biased in this of course, for these very letters are a gratitude of love, an exploration, a voyage through it.  And to my surprise they were largely unchartered waters and so I simply trusted and sailed them, sometimes through choppy waters and sometimes through calm, turquoise bays.

Where to sail to next?  Love is in many ways is the simplest of things and then again it can get so obscured.  How strange that at times it can feel it’s way as such a strong force and then be something that can wane away, grow pale and die.  Does real love really die?  I say no: I say you may not feel its’ force in your daily world, but there it lies and shall shock you or sooth you when it rises out of the past and introduces itself to you again.

So to those friends and lovers who have titled me that way in the past, then moved on, don’t think that you don’t live on in my heart, in some semblance; and never, ever imagine that you have left me for good.  Real love doesn’t work that way, that love is alive, though it may be dormant, even when it’s object is on a distant unseeable horizon.  And I understand you may say you love that thing, that one no more, and still I reply that love changes, transmutes, shifts and transforms and can hide, but is always there, around and in you.  Love is what makes you, love can guard you, buoy you; and when you think you lack love – you shrivel, you shrive and you waste.

If then you appreciate love in all its’ forms and not only the romantic him / her version – your world expands; the frequency of love letters coming to you pulses and increases and comes to you often and more – so much more when you chose to see it, in all its every glory.  Quite simply like attracts love … and so this letter ends ….

    With love, love, love … from Me xxx

PS: Love in ALL its’ forms is explored and celebrated in the complete set of letters now published in book form – follow the link here to find out more…


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