love anyway

Writing has been difficult for me lately. When I write, it’s often personal, not something I would necessarily share here; like a letter from LOVE such as what would LOVE like me to know today? Or recently, if my dad was still here, what might he say to me?

In both cases, it’s often a version of hang in there, keep trying, keep showing up, keep sharing your heart and expressing your feelings however you can. Keep being light and love. This is hard, it hurts, love anyway.

I’m struggling because I’m disappointed and dismayed, often even, disgusted.

I know there is good happening too. All of the time. And I try to pay attention to it, to notice the glimmers, and help when and where I can. I tend to be more optimistic than pessimistic.

But the cruelty. It’s enough to beat me down and make my soul want to hide in the far corners of my being.

What do I write? What do I share? If I write about current affairs, I may piss people off because I’m being too political.

If I don’t write about current affairs, I may piss people off because I’m not speaking up, I’m coming from a place of privilege, I’m digging my head in the sand, I don’t know the whole story, and on and on and on.

The lesson here is that no matter what you do or say, someone is going to be irritated. Accepting that disappointing people in order to stay true to oneself has been an important lesson for me. I don’t like it one bit.

I’m at a loss. I could cry.  I do. Often.

I want to laugh. And be light. And talk about the dress Chappel Roan wore to the Grammy’s. I was very worried about her nipples.

I want to watch a show or a movie that makes me feel good, happy, hopeful. And sometimes I want to watch the Housewives. I want to listen to music and dance. So, I do. Like every other person on this planet. Thank goodness for art!

Everyone was a child once. Isn’t that wild to think about? That the mean - devoid of emotion and empathy - human capable of causing great suffering was a baby once looking to be loved and fed and cared for?

Are we doing the best we can?  Certainly not.

We’re needy and depraved. Most of us are longing to see and feel human decency, dignity, and respect. The only way to feel it is to be it ourselves!

I try to remember to put my head down and keep working. To listen to my own heart and instinct. To not get caught up in all of the noise because all it does is cause overwhelm. It’s not helpful. Get quiet. Listen to what my heart is telling me. Get still. Listen. Honor this voice. Always listen for this one true voice. It never leads us astray.

Reading poetry is always a great reminder to rest, be in nature, notice beauty.

The only thing I know how to do is keep taking care of myself, and the people and animals around me. To be kind, even when the world isn’t.

And to pay attention and talk about the glimmers like:

OLIVIA DEAN! My sweet pup, Pumpkin had her last injection to treat her heartworm yesterday, and she smiles when I say her name. It’s a four-day weekend for my youngest and we have no plans other than to be together. It’s Valentine’s Day which means chocolate. And the women I met and made fast friends with last week on a retreat.

Know when you’re feeling blah or meh or worse, you are not alone. You are loved and love and we need you here exactly as you are.