So much has been written on this subject.
A sigh of our collective being – a longing of our soul, perhaps?
Yet, the more I read & consider, the more I realize, to ‘be’ love is not something which can be systematically worked out or taught or trained, it isn’t something we can learn, or even grow into – it is (like so much else) a gift to be received.
Listen to these words.
Spoken many centuries ago.
By someone who thought ‘love’ could be explained.
“Even if I dole out all that I have, but have not love, I gain nothing.
“Love endures long and is patient and kind;
“Love never is envious nor boils over with jealousy,
“Love is not boastful or vainglorious,
“Love does not display itself haughtily,
“Love is not conceited, arrogant, inflated with pride,
“Love is not rude,
“Love does not act unbecomingly,
“Love does not insist on its own rights or its own way,
“Love is not self-seeking,
“Love is not touchy or fretful or resentful,
“Love takes no account of the evil done to it,
“Love does not rejoice at injustice and unrighteousness,
“Love rejoices when right and truth prevail,
“Love bears up under anything and everything that comes,
“Love is ever ready to believe the best of every person,
“Love’s hopes are fadeless under all circumstances,
“Love endures everything,
“Love never fails,
“Love never fades out,
“Love never becomes obsolete,
“Love never comes to an end.”
Hesitatingly I breathe for this gift.
It is easy to love my Zuko, my beautiful children, my stunning friends, who love me too.
It is even easy to love my colleagues of whom I do not know if they love me or not.
And people in need.
People who suffer.
People who have less.
But loving those who hate me or hate & destroy those whom I passionately love – this seems to be another matter.
And so often, in this less than ideal reality, we are exposed to this.
A slap in the face of our soul.
Another lover of wisdom suggested: “Love covers all transgressions”.
And: “Love forgives”.
And I know to be love is a gift.
Something which cannot be coached into me.
Which cannot be enforced.
Which need to be received.
Never to be explained.
Only to be lived.
I do believe this:”Love is honest. Love cares enough to say what needs to be said and even after all has been said and done, it continues to hope, that somehow, something beautiful will come to life.”
I breathe this for us.
That as we live, love will infest us.