The other day, I was talking to a friend of mine who had mentioned that he had recently read a book written by a well known “New Age” author who stated that being in love is the closest experience there was to being fully present. ( Being fully present is a good thing, I might add ).
Now, I know that being in love is fun. The colors of life seem brighter. There is a new excitement to the days of loving, a new feeling of delight in anticipation. But, as I heard this I wondered, why do we always think that being in love has to involve another person? Why doesn’t it occur to most of us that being in love could mean, being in love with life itself.
Or, better yet, could it be that it is simply the feeling of love that is the joy? And that the object of our affection is only the excuse to feel this exquisite feeling? Not that I am discounting companionship or even – dare we say, sex – but, I am talking about love: the deliciousness of it. The warm, fuzzy, all- over coziness of it.
If it were not necessary to have an object to be in love with, we could forever have the completely unattached, unlimited, immensely unimaginable experience of LOVE. MMMMMM can you feel it?
The floods of love leave heart’s gates open wide
with no offer of control to stem or turn its tide
Freed at last, the power of its waters knows no bounds
Fear, despair, bitterness with ease it drowns
Love’s searching currents drawn to parched human landscapes
relentlessly smoothing the stone hardness of their faces
Its deep pools giving shelter to all of life’s children
providing home to every searching pilgrim
Love knows all
sees all
seeks all
to be ALL