And it came easy. It was not with labored breathing or screaming fits of rage. There was no lashing out, just the sweetness of breath leaving the lungs. It was an exhale. …it is an exhale. For this is a moment lived dually within this moment, fully present, and this moment, partially removed, writing it. This is the joy and the pain of what I do best.
Daddy said to me not too long ago that love is like smoke. He said you can’t hold it, you can’t build on it, you can’t do anything but admire it for what it is. He’s both right and wrong. This is me learning to love free. There are no ropes binding me to this earth or this space. There are no wings upon my back whispering of a lofty and distant view from above. There is no burden born of love. This is me glancing at the two feet I have placed firmly on the ground and lifting my head into the breeze. There’s no need to look up or look down. I know where I’m going.
And yeah, it is a little like smoke, this love. When contained it keeps the shape of the space within which it was confined. When set free, it disperses into the air. It doesn’t go away, it just shifts and changes. That’s what this moment is, watching the breeze pick up the smoke and carry it upon a thousand winds. This is both my sadness and my joy. This is loss and it is gain. This is the very essence of this moment, this time, this space, this now. This is all there ever was but not all that will ever be.
Hearts, I’ve learned, do not break. They do not shatter like wine glasses thrown to cement behind dumpsters. Hearts expand and contract; they inhale and exhale. Mine was contracted for too long, not bound…but binding. What a misplaced deed to constrict the heart, for it is meant only for expansion. I cannot hold or tame love; that is not my purpose. I can only set it free in the truest of ways and with the simplest of motions. And in that, are we not all set free!
(January 16, 2008)
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