I have been thinking a lot about love recently. It’s a curious creature, love.
It is one of the things that unites every single living being on this earth. An emotion that we all have. Regardless of our relationship with it.
You can love your grandma, your husband, your dog. It doesn’t really matter what it is you love, the feeling, the emotion is present amongst us all.
The most frustrating thing about it is that we can’t see it, or reason it, or understand it. It is the most complex emotion I have ever experienced.
Love has the power to give you wings, but at the point in which you are about to soar into the sky, it has the power to clip those wings, leaving you forever staring at the sky thinking about what might have been.
It has the power to fill you with light and happiness, the kind you never imagined possible but also to burden you with pain, a darkness, to make you lonelier than it possible to imagine.
For some of us, it alludes us. It sits at the very core of us desperate to share itself with someone, but never to achieve this.
And others use it, to empower them, to entitle them to pacify their own insecurities.
For me, personally, love is the most important emotion in life. Perhaps that is because I am a mother? Something happens when you become a mother. You realise what love truly is. It comes without condition. Without expectation. I can honestly say that my children could do, be and behave any way and I would always love them. I may not approve. But I will always, without question, stand by them. Love doesn’t judge, it isn’t jealous, it doesn’t come with caveats. It just is.
Loving family is a little more simplistic. Loving an animal, such as a dog, comes with far less baggage. The hardest love of all, is the love between two people. Two people not bound by blood, but bound only by an emotion they cannot see, cannot touch and probably cannot understand.
Everyone is different. It doesn’t matter if you are male or female. All of us are completely unique. We are born with certain personality traits, inherited through our genes, and then we continue to collect traits, through life lessons, hurt, love, successes.
I always think by the time you hit your 30’s you pretty much are who you are. There is no fighting your personality. If you are disorganised but creative, cold but logical, calm, angry or just plain mean, then by the time you hit 30 you probably have to accept you have flaws, they aren’t going to change, it’s time to accept them.
When loving someone else, you have to apply this logic too.
Love doesn’t judge. It doesn’t demand change. It doesn’t hold back. It doesn’t resent you.
Love, real true and honest love, limps into a room, broken and damaged and sick and it looks at you, the complete mess of a human being you are, your warts, your fears, your insecurities, your annoying habit of chewing your toe nails, sees nothing but the good and it stays. Through thick and thin. Regardless of anything. It fears nothing. It holds nothing back.
It just loves.
I’m fascinated by it. Fascinated by what we see as love and what we ignore in love.
And for me? It is the life blood of humanity. It is the point. The reason. It is the answer we all search for. What is the point of life?
The point of life, is to love and to be loved in return. If you have that. You own the whole world.
Tonight, look at the person you share your life with and ask yourself, Is this love? If a smile appears on your face as you read this the answer is probably yes. If you hesitate, use if’s, question it? The chances are it isn’t.
Regardless of the love you get in return, make sure the love you give out really is love. Unconditional. Without judgement. Pure. Kind. Honest.
I’m lucky. I am sitting here writing this right now, knowing I am completely and utterly in love.
Although I am looking at a rather nice bottle of wine as I type this so maybe I’m just confused.
Peace out dudes. Happy Christmas.