Life is Beautiful, Especially When it is Falling Apart
Life is beautiful. Even when it's falling apart. Maybe especially when it's falling apart. There are angels in the autumn leaves; redemption in the black boughs against the winter sky. I use the word redemption a lot. I guess it means a lot to me. Redeemed from what I don't always know. Life around is teeming with opportunities, second, third, forth, fiftieth chances. Open your hand.
Love is both simple and complex. People wonder, if they're suffering, if maybe it has something to do with karma. Perhaps it does. Some say karma only carries across lifetimes. I don't think they understand the purpose of karma. I think it's for learning. If it takes lifetimes to learn, it takes lifetimes to learn. Sometimes I steal something and someone steals something from me the next day. Whether it's intellectually, or physically. You'd think we'd learn right away, but it takes countless iterations sometimes. It could be coincidence, these happenings, and it could be karma. I believe that now and again I can tell the difference.
Karma rings through the bones. The birds freeze in their nests, and time stands still. Coincidence is just something happening. Yes I sometimes wonder if karma is just a strategy to cope with coincidence. Maybe it is, but I'm not wired to believe that. I never was.
Sometimes my heart is shattered 'out of the blue'. I take that back. There is no 'out of the blue.' It's always coming. We know in the quiet moments that it's coming, we just turn away somehow. 'Out of the blue' is reality surfacing like two tectonic plates clashing.
I love a lot. I think I love a lot. My heart is opening more and more as I approach 40. It feels good, the walls falling away, more and more. And everything falls apart. I open the gates and the spear enters. I let it.
I don't love enough. I think about myself too much, about what I need. I'm afraid of fully letting go; afraid of full surrender.
It's all true.
My point is, even from a thousand miles away, I love you. You can hurt me and tear me apart, and I'll find my way back to love, even if I have to scramble over mountains.
Some people will push you away until their arms ache with weariness. Some will go to the grave pushing you away. It's up to us whether we want to hold out a little longer, until the surrender, or push back. I just try to embrace the whole damn thing.
I fail often. I succeed sometimes.
Love and Flow,