Love By Any Other Name...

A fellow sojourner had some amazing insight and additional perspective regarding my most recent post. I am copying her thoughts here and encourage anyone who hasn't read it, to do so, so you can truly hear her voice and, that, in turn, my thoughts may also have a place within contextual walls.

Our friend was lamenting over society's convoluted concept of love: " i meant love, romantic love...[..]..i'm not disillusioned, what's elusive is love itself. who could define or measure? our society seems to idealize it therefore many suffer from unnecessary heart breaking."

I sadly agree with her take on the state of society's mindset. I see our present population as having a very unrealistic view of love, therefore making it so elusive that it is cruelly unattainable in the vessel of a human counterpart. She mentioned how we idealize love...as in, making it (love)... (or at least our idea of love), as the ideal, or end objective goal--the dangling carrot we are desiring to obtain and possess.

Like this beautiful woman, I too have been affected by such ridiculous and rude expectations....completely cruel in their disregard of my own reality and heart's well-being. I think of this with such an aching, and pray that society *myself included* would embrace love that is fierce with reality...and rather than idealize it, that we would RESPECT it...Listen for it--and then PRACTICE "it"~

I was thinking more about this, what I see as a breathtaking, ferocious love...one that is palpable in life--is felt, and shown, and a force to be reckoned with, rather than some sweet, ethereal cotton-candy coated ideal. I thought of a quote I recently read of one of my longtime favorite authors, Lucy Maude Montgomery. She said: "What had seemed easy in imagination was rather hard in reality."

I think *without getting on a soapbox here* that maybe where things are breaking down, or simply getting lost in translation, is in the illusion *ideal* of love that we humans have bought into. It is fed to us daily through media-meals, romance novels, Hollywood films, even in gazing *short-sightedly* at one another's relationships *not realizing there is always more than meets the eye*. Real love is tough. It's not sweet all the time. It's hard to chew, and often hard to swallow. It is tiring to practice. It is elusive to "catch." It is often hidden due to the fact that real love is quiet and unassuming...not announced with fanfare or regaled with Blockbuster bells and whistles.

Love is indeed a four letter word...but one that I wish was never censored for the public. I wish we had just left it alone and rocked that word in all of its raw and, yes, (maybe) shocking, purest form (no stars here...)~

L-O-V-E. Uncensored. Let's use it to go shock some people...

At Second Glance~

I woke up this morning and looked out my window. It was cloudy, rainy and windy on the North Shore. Boo….big Boo. So, I did what I do best…ran AWAY from the darkness and ick!!! Ran far, far away * okay, DROVE far away .* I decided I would drive and not stop until the sun shone again…which, if you live in Hawaii, you know isn’t too difficult to find. My wheels rolled towards the rhythm of the seas…finally making their way to Waikiki. And, ahh, the sun was resplendent! People were out in full force, thoroughly enjoying the day. Good call, AB, good call.

I knew I should write an entry today, yet I have a rule with myself that I can’t write anything I don’t FEEL—or that is really authentically tugging on my heart or mind. And as of 8-friggin’-AM this morning…not much of ANYTHING was I “feeling” to write about J So….I decided to take a run, praying that along the way something would speak to me (this tactic has never ever failed me , by the way…life just seems to happen and inspire when given enough time and room).

No, it never fails. I was running along the path in this amazing park right on the water. It is a popular venue, making it a fantastic place to people watch. As good as any airport I have ever been in, hands down.

As I ran, I noticed a familiar sight…or familiar event(s), I should say—Wedding Photo-Paloosa! Everywhere I looked, it seemed, there were blushing brides and glowing grooms! To the right, to the left, flanked on all sides—by frills! The lace, the bouquets, the tiaras, the satin, the bows, the chiffon, the BLING!

A smorgasbord of sensory overload….the blinding white garments glistening in the sun as the photographer extracts every emotional image possible from the cooing couple. * Click, click, smile, laugh, GAZE--oh GAZE!-- into each others’ eyes* --and repeat.

One might think that, after every single day (and on every single jog) of being (what some would call) ”bombarded” with adoring couples left and right…that I would be desensitized to any emotional response by now….yet I am not. Like clockwork, every day, and with each couple I come across, DAMNIT!, I can’t help myself but to smile, slow my pace, and breathe it in.

Yes, breathe it in…but what is this “it” I ask myself? Is it love? * swoon*…no, not exactly, for my common sense and logic sadly reminds me that, despite my romantic feminine heart, two out of four of these couples (at least) will not even make it to their second wedding anniversary. So, no, it’s not love that I am smitten with here.

So, then, again I ask: “What is ‘it?’’ I look again at the sun-kissed smiles. I strain my ears to hear the lilting laughter, making its way to me across the sky, as if floating on fairies wings. I look again…and I see all the tangible sights; hear the audible sounds; but I feel and know… HOPE. I look around me at these couples, gazing into each others’ eyes…adoringly clasped in embraces…and know that, to me, it is more than an embrace, far-reaching beyond a shared smile; it is the symbol of what is to come…hope. The hope they have with a brand new beginning. Hope at the idea of a life ahead…together. Hope looking forward to an added chapter of their lives’ books. Hope for a change. Hope for more of the same something that is good and wonderful. Hope for possibilities. Hope for something shared. Hope in belonging. Hope in knowing. Hope in being known..…and it is breathtaking.

Webster’s defines “Hope” as: “a belief in a positive outcome related to events and circumstances in one's life…[..]…the feeling that what is wanted can be had or that events will turn out for the best.”

So, yes…I call what I witnessed today hope.

Surprisingly this day’s display of beautiful brides does not particularly produce an intense aching in my soul…nor am I taking away from this jog a picture of love. No…. "bah, bah, rah, mama”… *unlike Lady Gaga, I don’t necessarily want a romance*…But I WILL take some of that hope, please….and thank you~