THE JOYS OF WRITING: Love, Love, Love above all… But what does it even mean?

Why thank you for asking,

*smiles, as if encouraged to step over the threshold*

I’ve been researching this very question my entire life, I’ve found so many sources both through the books I’ve read, but mostly from the life I’ve lived in. There were instances that could have crushed me that for some reason didn’t, in fact they’ve re-enforced me in searching for better pieces of humanity.

So seeing these claims of victimhood popping up in media, I empathize, but mostly for the opportunity missed, the darkest places I’ve existed in have born lessons worth my entire life I will hold them dear to the end. They are precious, intimate and belong to only those I involve most truly with. Some I’ve never shared with anyone but those present.

I know villains exist inside of saints, and saints are made, in my opinion from people who battle against their demons while striving toward something truly heroic.

I come from the school of thought that my existence is meant to breed nothing but love, but what does this verb actually stand for?

To me, love means sacrificing mutually while striving to be in constant movement. If the movement those I love would take me or they away from one another that love can look like saying goodbye, maybe not forever, but just for a while, waving farewell while wishing nothing but good things bring better things to both beings as they sacrifice something precious in order to pursue the purpose they were lead too.

I think love is looking past what makes me individually happy and searching for a universal unity, sometimes this can look like me unleashing unruly truths. Love looks like listening when it’s more comfortable to chime in with opinions. Listening can look like hearing more than just words, finding the truths that lurk in fear of judgment, allowing me to unleash my own little lessons learned. Telling a friend of my own failures and layout theories I’m trying out myself.

My truth is, no one has all the answers we have things that might work for a while but change is meant to be there’s no stopping life’s cycle.

Sometimes, Love manifests as a gesture, and the thing about the most genuine is that they seem to stick. They resonate through even the thickest of darknesses, in the midsts of pain they shine most brightly, even the smallest are inclined to change someone’s life. The more I meditate the more I seem to see symbolism in everything, it makes even the most unwitting realities relatable, because of my missteps, and bruised knees, I’m grateful for anything that comes to me in the hopes of catalyzing change. Love looks like accepting where I have been and the sins I’ve agreed too as my own, belonging to no one but myself.

This simple act offers me the ability to move past it and back into the same reality that existed before it. I choose to stay the same through the chaos, a nod to the stones with my name on them, I will never pick one up and carry it the same way these things have done against me… If there’s one thing my characters have taught me about love it’s that no matter what it’s my duty to extend it, because every book I’ve ever read the villain could have been prevented had someone extended them something other than nails and malevolent mantra’s against them.

Beginning with not saying things like, “we all knew that if anyone would shoot up the school it would have been him…”

Love renders blame irrelevant to my opinions, I do my best to approach each new situation with compassion, it’s not this one’s fault that the ones before them would suggest otherwise and even though betrayal and indifference might not come as a surprise I can at least leave knowing I continued living my life-based in the way of love. And love, by definition, comes with no expectation for a return for the attention paid while serving the time.

Love is an endurance lifestyle, of nodding toward what I might expect and then rising above it to extend the environment around me an opportunity to prove me wrong. Because I know the most enraged beasts are lions hurting from some unseen thorn. A beast curst by some past experience in need of compassion and a listening ear.

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