Let me not to the marriage of true minds
Admit impediments. Love is not love
Which alters when it alteration finds,
Or bends with the remover to remove:
O, no! it is an ever-fixed mark,
That looks on tempests and is never shaken;
It is the star to every wandering bark,
Whose worth’s unknown, although his height be taken.
Love’s not Time’s fool, though rosy lips and cheeks
Within his bending sickle’s compass come;
Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks,
But bears it out even to the edge of doom.
If this be error and upon me proved,
I never writ, nor no man ever loved.
-God (commonly found under the pen name of William Shakespeare 🙂 )
so begins a comment which morphed itself into a post
This little four letter word has been the greatest teacher of my life. WE have taken the height of this word, but it’s true power, the true power, is still becoming known to me.
In exploring the territory attempting to be covered by it’s common, limited usage, I have mapped the feeling of the highest of highs in joy and smashed myself to the lowest lows, sitting facing wanting to die out on that edge of doom.
Then, upon learning the artful steps for coming back to the center within a neutral stance (and just observing that polarized play out of potentials with love), I discover that what was happening (and the other players themselves, too!) were ultimately found in interaction, only to be mirrors of myself.
Welcome to the party that understanding brings… a shower announcing the birth of true Self love which is always and all ways:
Add the beginnings of TRULY understanding this one seemingly small (popularly misunderstood by a belief that it is rather benign) descriptive word to the mix, and BOOM!!!
Well now, things really start get interesting.
Wave buh-bye as that self in that mirror with any “my” to be separate from begins to slip away. We are then left all alone and empty and simultaneously merged with everything and everyone on a completely full dance floor with the music still playing. M and her story that is not M because having no story, she also is you and your story which you also are and are not. That last sentence leads to the singing of this little song:
Rumi and Shams sitting in a tree, K – I – S – S – I – N – G
…wait, or is that B – E – B – E – I – N – G each other AND the tree? (I’m getting ahead of my-self self)
lol & lol
Oh, the moves that can now be made with love unconditional, putting us in a whole other realm of potentials for understanding and creating life in this earth reality! This is when we get to start consciously changing the actual dance floor and everything on it because we remember we are not separate from the dream of creation itself.
With unconditional love, we now dance to the edges, but find they just keep on moving. The floor that is found is no longer flat and square, but round… and not just any round, but a spiraling mobius strip dance club of sorts.
We dance ourselves toward the end of love and do not ever find it. So the band plays and we now as one dance on…
…and keep loving and living (just an o / i swap 🙂 ) and learning and remembering and writing to our self here on seeingM.
Love as careless? Yep, it is. Care free and utterly delicious. 🙂 Show me what I only know the limits of. Dance me very tenderly, baby, dance me to the end of love!
(…and man oh man, are we looking incredibly swish as we make these moves while embracing eternity these days! M clears the floor for M who inspired these here rambling words with the utter eloquence of these: X & X )
My husband just asked me about this cryptic title. It is actually referring to a comment I made elsewhere which I am sure no one else will ever see so I will repeat it here. It is not A love, but THE love. True unconditional love is not a way of feeling ,it is a natural state of always, all ways being. When love is unconditional it is present in the darkest of darkest moments and in the judged evilest of evilest choices in behavior.