“My love is always mine.” I made this proclamation for many years before understanding the truth of it. We prescribe our choices about relationships in folly, and then we call it love. “I chose him or her because… abandonment issues, sex abuse, neglect, trauma.” Not at all that the conditions of our lives do not determine what needs healing, but we can miss the mark on how to heal when we follow head over heart and choose a lover who merely soothes us, stimulates our mind, or settles along with us in the bed of propriety. Loving to mate is a soul endeavor; our deepest longing is found in the sky.
I’ve chosen the easy lover at times when that was perhaps appropriate. As I was learning something else about life, something more practical, like how to be happy, or gaining knowledge of my family or of the world. I chose easy lovers when I was learning to function in the Capitalistic society in which I live. Many, if not most, of us barely know ourselves at the time we reach adulthood. We are roundly conditioned to serve our egos by false societal structures. Some settle comfortably into into this illusion for a lifetime, burying their longing under a heap of deception. Others starve their soul in order to thrive in materialism. Some turn their mate into a function of child-rearing; never allowing themselves or their lover to break the shell. This is the danger in marriage. To choose a mate based on a compatibility determined by the mind. Taking the safe route can detour one’s joy for decades, perhaps lifetimes, if one has an over evolved tenacity. Even so, marriage’s triumphant follies will bring us to our knees, where love’s alchemy can cover our soul with its sweet kisses of loss. I loved many people before I knew the soul love that burst open my shell of safety and allowed my passion and authenticity to emerge. I have learned it is best to throw more love at the loss.
Divine union, whether sexual or familial, friendship or foeship, is meant to shatter us; there is no other way to enter the kingdom. And perhaps we will not all enter in a single incarnation. Some believe as I do that it takes many incarnations to weave souls together in their joined purpose. When a lover leaves, by death or abandonment, I am left holding the wholeness of my love. Although it may scorch my flesh, he or she takes nothing of it when they go. Because my love is always mine. Love is the ruins of relationship. Relationships will always end, just as they are meant to . Life may teach us this or not. We grow old and die waiting and wishing for the one who will take us to the highest peak of ecstacy, or we settle for a love less obliterating that sustains us in the conditions we are born into, never listening within. Love is our legacy and will not be denied. We will all enter the kingdom; through the soft inflamed opening of loss, or the shattering of bliss. But never through the mind’s choosing. Love is known only in the silken black surrender to the soul. Our children are maybe the finest example of our soul’s love. We know in our deepest chamber, where our love resides, that we cannot create the kingdom for them. We may want it more than anything and we may be willing to trade our life for it. But our child’s love is hers. He hears the call through his own experiences, and in his own time. Our opening is to throw love at him, for all of his life.
Love beckons us, “open and turn… fall and crawl.” Love knows we will reach for her like hungry infant animals grapple for fresh cream. This is the call. We can listen and hear, or ignore and move about as if beauty is not our inheritance.