Finding love

In the corner of the yard he walks quietly as the sun sets slowly down beyond the horizon. He looks at each tree, every plant that grows in this new place, familiarizing himself with the nuances of the specimens and finally stopping to smell the jasmine that is finally nearing it’s end.

He calls to me then, a hint of excitement tinges his voice, “come and see this, and bring the camera” he says to me and I hurry out to see the sight that is animating him so. Hoping of course that it isn’t a big snake or baby gator back there, I arrive with the camera in hand. There it is before me, a heart shape of the palest green moss growing on a tree that we’ve been looking at each day and night for the last two months now, neither one of us had seen it before and now sitting there plain as day, a heart. “I hope it’s not broken” he says with a laugh, as the trunk bark separates and runs through the lovely green shape. “I’m sure it will be just fine, they make look broken but they always heal” I reply with a smile. We sit each night here in the lanai of our new home, watching the clouds and the sky change, hearing the silent tinkling of the wind chimes as the gentle breeze blows, and listening to the many birds that frequent us with song and merry antics, and we talk of our future, what we want, what we hope for and we feel the peace here that calms us on this new journey.

Now, unexpectedly finding love when least expected. Right in our own back yard.

He has a knack for knowing what makes me smile, what it is that I adore and once again, prince charming comes through….with love of course.

Becoming

Beauty formed with skilled hands of a master, set upon pedestals in secret gardens, lush and serene in its silence. Light filters in from a sun that peers beyond clouds that are slow to move out of the way of the brilliance, and as she rises into herself each imperfection can be seen on the surface. All imperfection cannot be seen though, deep within the stone that was built over centuries lay minute cracks and fissures in the makeup of the whole.

The outer shell is worn with time, pocked with blemishes from outside forces, like wrinkles on a weathered face proud to carry each crease from days gone by and a smile that seems permanent on each corner that has stood the test of days long passed. 

Each year that passes, as we move into each second, each story that moves us, and each word we place in long strung lines becomes more sacred, for it is who we are. Faded pages forgotten come whispering back like a paper book left on a beach blowing aimlessly in the wind, back and forth yet still forgotten. A hand reaches down and examines the tattered remnants and we become intrigued and carry it away for a later read, or to hand it off to a friend who would enjoy this new gift. We pass these stories on sometimes, yet others remain hidden within, like the cracks and fissures in marble, too hard to find and release, sometimes better left there unseen.

We cannot remain hidden on the pedestal for long, as beauty always finds a way to be found, and upon discovery, the familiarity that we are all on the verge of becoming love begins to show. We open ourselves a little more, fear of rejection slowly dissipates as we realize it’s okay to be found, okay to be heard and seen. Each scar, each story takes on a new meaning when found that it is often universal, we have become to accept and love that which we see on the surface, that which we are and all we are still destined to become.

We are becoming love with each step taken and each piece of ourselves we leave behind, setting the weight aside we find suddenly we can soar, we can fly and as we stare at chronicles of our lives, each bit of joy, each bit of heartbreak becomes a slice of wind that carries us yet higher and it is there we are free, it is there we finally become whole.

I was thinking of statues that are beautiful in their sometimes heartbreakingly sad way, as acid rain deteriorates the forms, they are almost like humans that change over time, with wrinkles and scars and imperfections, it is when we tell our stories and accept ourselves that we become the love we seek, we become that which we truly are.

There will be storms

Skies twist and turn these days, moving through in the blink of an eye, unsettling the mind that waits for rain yet receives only sunlight. They say there will be storms. Storms so fierce that it will test the mettle, the strong shall be wise and stand tall with an ounce of fear, as that is all life requires. A healthy dose of fear to put things in perspective.

The fear, the little nudge to the mind that reminds us of our smallness, our frailty. Life moves like that, we move through blind, Groundhog Day relived over and over yet soon we find, It was always the little things, the looks, the words, the feelings that mattered most.

A storm can rip apart the very things you’ve built, the things you’ve worked for, the things you desired….but in the end they are only that, things. The storm can’t replace a moment spent with a loved one, a kiss shared in passion, a smile given to a stranger just because they looked as if they had nothing….the free things in life, that’s what’s important.

There will be storms, internal, external, it’s all in the way you look at it. Yet if we set aside our preconceived thoughts and let understanding take the place, to leave a judgement behind of how things should be, to strip away the fear to find the light that shines below like the hottest sun, ah, then the storm will pass by, leaving little touched, perhaps just a hair out of place and a memory of how things used to be, and then we set fear aside of losing it all and begin to truly live.

Image taken on the gulf coast of Florida by Janet O. Realtor extraordinaire.