Hafiz day 92 The Only One From People’s perspective In this intricate game of love, It is so easy to become confused And think you are the do-er. But from the Beloved’s Infinite Certainty, She always knows That she is the only One Who should ever be put on trial. What the heck? Another Ego issue here. I read Eckhart Tolle—twice. I guess I have to pull it out again. I keep thinking that circumstances are about me—not good enough, too loud, frightened. Geesh! No one has to be on trial with Love. Love is not only the fun stuff but the mess, too. Love is not about the outcome, but the out pouring, the response to what is. Love is not getting my own way, but caring anyway. Love is not about doing, but being. I think of it as a radiant force that emanates outward, and inward. Love enfolds, not restrains. The notion of caring is with me all day. Sometimes I get wound up in my own story, and although I love someone I forget to care about them. Caring, to me, is that tender nurturing and concern for well being. Well being. Being Well. Reaching out, stepping back. Putting them first—and only. It seems that by now it should be as automatic as breathing, but I forget. Tomorrow I return to my job. Holy smokes, what a vacation. I am choosing to think of it not as a special suspended event in time, but a way of being in the world. The feelings and responses I had this summer were enormous. They were loud and full of love and life. I choose that. Not hard when it is a romance in France and a love affair with oldest friends in Italy—now the challenge begins. This past week has been a practice run for me. I didn’t do so well—but, I learned a lot (mostly that I have a lot of learning to do.) I believe that I can still live and love loud. I am going to love this opportunity to teach and the children I work with with all the abandon and excitement I possess. I am going to love myself and offer my love in radiant waves, that I hope will resonate with those around—and not so close to me. Those thorns I am snatching and crushing when they rear their pointy heads is quite a pile—but the roses are blooming again.
Posted on: Wed, 14 Aug 2013 02:40:06 +0000
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