I have believed in love my entire life. I believed in it when my dad would scream at my mom and I would hide behind her legs. I believed in love when my parents divorced when I was four. In fact, I believed in it even more.
When I was young I noticed how dulled out everyone seemed to be. Dead dreamers as I like to call them. They walked around preaching what was not possible while I stomped around explaining what was.
Maybe it was self preservation to be a believer. I could not accept the notion that I was here just to give up, to settle, to accept “what is.” I am here for a purpose.
When I was very little, despite having very little religious upbringing, I would talk to God. Not an imaginary friend, I would speak to the invisible God. I was born with an inner knowing perhaps.
I’ve spent the entirety of my life believing in love, despite being surrounded still by dead dreamers. I still talk to God, to the invisible realms. I still pursue possibilities.
As a career I choose to be an advocate. I specialize in divorce. The irony is real. I’ve seen it all. Domestic violence, love turns to hate, revenge, spite, sadness. It’s as if I chose a career where I could test my belief in love and in God. I love that actually!
15 years later, deep into a practice that is nasty on all ends, I still believe in love.
It was a full circle moment recently. Someone I loved infinitely was asking me to produce examples of what I believed in. I don’t know what hurt more, the end of our relationship, or the question by him of examples of the love I know to be true. From my perspective, I had direct experience with it; perhaps I assumed incorrectly that he did too.
This also goes to show, not everyone will see or experience love as you do. Even that is okay.
Some just see possibility as the dull probable that is reflected from the outer. I refuse to experience Life that way.
I will continue to advocate for Love and Dance with the Divine in this Lifetime. Everything else is so lackluster. I am far beyond lackluster to let go of Love.
Love is unnamable. As the Tao says, “the mystery itself is the doorway to understanding.”
We cannot place a label on Love, when we try it becomes an even greater mystery. Only the true magicians know that mystery is their greatest ally.
I can and I may write a book of the “dos and don’ts” of marriage or committed/uncommitted relationships. However, Love is a mystery that no author can pen to paper. It’s a direct experience. It is an inner knowing. There are possible pathways to clear before a deeper understanding of it, but there will never be a book that will define what it is I will always believed in. If you know, you know. If you are uncertain, ask the Divine to reveal it to you.