Thursday, October 2, 2008

The potency of love

There is more hunger for love and appreciation in this world than for bread. Mother Teresa
I'm not sure who said, "No matter what you've done, no matter what you've not done, you deserve love." I think it's brilliant. And true.

Love comes in many manifestations. Sometimes, it's a gentle touch. A kind word. A thoughtful gesture. Love is. Always. And forever.

Sometimes love comes in forms we do not understand, in ways that hurt the ones we love. The father who strikes his child. The mother who slaps. The grandfather who sexually abuses his granddaughter.

For the father who strikes, the mother who slaps, the grandfather who abuses, we feel no love. What they are doing is wrong. They are accountable for their doing. Can we love their being anyway? Can we love them as the child who was once struck before he became a man? The mother who was continuously slapped, before she became a woman? And, the grandfather who was abused before he sought love in such devastating manner? Is there love for them?

How else do we heal if not with love? In love with the human condition.

To love. To be loved. We must be love. We must open our hearts and our minds and connect to the essence of our human condition. To that which we share. That which is our humanity.

Several years ago, I deserted my daughters. It was never my intent. Never my goal. Yet, I did it.

When first I awoke to what I had done, to what had happened in my life, I wanted to deny the truth of deserting them. I wanted to blame, 'him', the man who abused me. I wanted to blame my state of mind, my fear, my self-loathing, my inability to break the bonds that tied me to his lies.

In my denial, I was denying myself the gift of self-love. I was turning my back on loving myself exactly the way I was in that moment of awakening. Loving myself in all my bruises, hurts and pains. All my failures, all my sorrows so that I could grow in love, away from anger, hatred and pain.

In my denial, I was denying my daughters the opportunity to heal with me. Because my denial that I had deserted them denied the truth of their experience. To help them heal, I could not say, "I know you were hurt but it wasn't my fault." I was accountable for what I did. Accountability was not about laying blame, it was about turning up in love, being love and doing the loving thing.

In wanting to help them heal, in wanting to rebuild the bridges of love that sustain and support us, I had to face reality and acknowledge what I had done, so that we could move into what we could do, in love, to heal.

Today, my daughters and I share a strong and vibrant love. It is real. It is enduring. It is forever. Always.

Sometimes, we argue. Sometimes, we disagree. Sometimes, we are rather heated in our discussions! And always, there is love.
In order to create there must be a dynamic force, and what force is more potent than love? Igor Stravinsky
In order to create harmony and joy, we must step into love. In order to create a world of love, we must create room for love to breathe so that our hearts can find its wings and take flight.

Today is the first day of the rest of your life. Make it a day filled with love for all humankind, no matter their state, not matter what they've done, or what they've not done. Fill your day with love for everyone and everything around you and soar in love. Share your love with joy, no matter the emotions that may flood your being throughout the day. Be love and in love.

The question is: Are you the love you want to receive? Are you stepping into love with each breath?


Anonymous said...


sounds like two articles, not one

write one about love

write one about your mistakes . . but take a kinder view of YOU when you do it!


CZBZ said...

"In my denial, I was denying my daughters the opportunity to heal with me."

When I had a choice to take responsibility for my mistakes or use a handy scapegoat (the narcissistic X-husband who made my 'mistakes' look like grains of sand compared to his boulders), I did the right thing.

It wasn't easy and I'm guessing it wasn't easy for you, either. But our willingness to grieve our mistakes probably tells our kids how much we love them. That they are important to us. That there is nothing to fear about making mistakes. The less we fear OUR mistakes, the less our children fear their own.

A lot of us grew up in the Age of Perfection when mistakes were interpreted as 'flaws'. Judgments like that only increased denial, especially if our self-esteem was shakey.

Once our children see that loving mothers are perfectly imperfect and unafraid to admit it, they can kick Perfection to the curb and love themselves 'exactly as they are', too.

I loved your message, Louise. Thanks for writing.


M.L. Gallagher said...

Wise words, CZ. Thank you.

I don't feel I"m being hard on Louise, I feel I'm lovingly embracing my humanity, perfectly human in all my imperfections and brilliance.

In that loving embrace, I am free to acknowledge where I have hurt others, and commit to doing better with every breath I take.

Love you CZ!

Thanks for visiting.