I move in circles in which many have an easy time telling others that they love them. However, it's not so easy for me. I don't know where the deflect lies: Me or them. I suspect it's just a different way of seeing our capacity and overlooking our failings.
I think love is as poorly an understood word as perfection, and it is as subjective as the same. Some people can love you so much that they would kill you for your own good. Others would keep you in box, or provide you with over-generous, no-cost-to-you expectations. Some can love you unconditionally until they don't. Still, others can love you so much that they forget that in the end, we all want something, no matter how selfless we are or claim to be.
I suppose that if you truly love somebody, you would be willing to put yourself in danger for them. However, what happens when love, emanating from others who have an equal claim upon your soul, demands that you remove yourself from danger? In some ways, it’s easier to make those split-second decisions that propel us into the line of duty and danger than it is to quietly, day in and day out, have the discipline to make those choices that makes us available to meet the incremental needs of the heart and soul of those we love (e.g, a kind word, a smile, an opening of doors, a quiet perseverance, a sharing of burdens, a silent kiss, an exchange of experiences, and a holding of the light through the darkness).
The best of love would probably be the combination of the two: being able to give your life at a moment’s notice, but also consecrating your living to those you love, walking gradually, hand in hand, toward that long night.
That it is – a perfect task for an imperfect being. That's why I find it so hard to say, “I love you.” And since those who wait for perfection to love or be loved always die imperfect, lonely, and alone, let me say that I love you.
Happy Holidays! Merry Christmas! May you find joy and love in this new coming year.
Loren M. Lambert © December 24, 2016 (Please share this if you like.)
I think love is as poorly an understood word as perfection, and it is as subjective as the same. Some people can love you so much that they would kill you for your own good. Others would keep you in box, or provide you with over-generous, no-cost-to-you expectations. Some can love you unconditionally until they don't. Still, others can love you so much that they forget that in the end, we all want something, no matter how selfless we are or claim to be.
I suppose that if you truly love somebody, you would be willing to put yourself in danger for them. However, what happens when love, emanating from others who have an equal claim upon your soul, demands that you remove yourself from danger? In some ways, it’s easier to make those split-second decisions that propel us into the line of duty and danger than it is to quietly, day in and day out, have the discipline to make those choices that makes us available to meet the incremental needs of the heart and soul of those we love (e.g, a kind word, a smile, an opening of doors, a quiet perseverance, a sharing of burdens, a silent kiss, an exchange of experiences, and a holding of the light through the darkness).
The best of love would probably be the combination of the two: being able to give your life at a moment’s notice, but also consecrating your living to those you love, walking gradually, hand in hand, toward that long night.
That it is – a perfect task for an imperfect being. That's why I find it so hard to say, “I love you.” And since those who wait for perfection to love or be loved always die imperfect, lonely, and alone, let me say that I love you.
Happy Holidays! Merry Christmas! May you find joy and love in this new coming year.
Loren M. Lambert © December 24, 2016 (Please share this if you like.)
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