Category : One Word
I’m a warrior. For love. I’m strong in this fight and I will fiercely love you. But as strong and vigilant as I may be, warriors get wounds. They get scraped and hurt. Amass scars. And I have my fair share of those — hurts, wounds. Scars in my heart and on my body. But that doesn’t make me give up the fight. Because friends, love… Love is the only thing worth fighting for. So I will continue to go into battle, no armor on, heart wide open. And I will prevail. Because love wins. Be a love warrior with me.
I am so in love.
With this grey and iced-over day.
With the heat in my heart.
I am so in love.
Bliss ran up my spine in yoga today.
My heart burst open, wide.
Love confetti flying across the world.
I wished for each piece to touch every one of you.
My soul could feel yours in the vibration of this beautiful and tragic life.
We are all connected.
And I…I am so in love.
Come fall with me.
I somewhat jokingly posted on Facebook that I have developed an addiction to buying shirts with the word “love” emblazoned on them. My collection keeps growing and I can’t seem to stop myself from buying just one more, and then another, and then… Talking with one of my best guys this week, he mentioned how much he is digging this “love campaign” I’ve got going on. Huh. A love campaign?
Truth be told, I have been rather love focused this year. This is surprising, most of all to me, given that I’ve been dealing with the greatest heartbreak of my life. Love walked right out my own front door, and I seem to have been seeking it everywhere since. Literally putting love on. Wearing “love” on ever increasing numbers of tanks and tees. Maybe I’ve been unconsciously believing if I have the word “love” written across my chest, it will fill up my heart by way of osmosis.
You see, the other truth is that I have been filled with rage. Sorrow. Disbelief. I’ve had vengeful thought after vengeful thought. Mean. Perverse. Bordering on evil fantasies. Ideas of possible futures blowing up in the face of a person who I used to know. Who I used to love. Who I used to have a life with. My thoughts and I have been dark. So dark I don’t even want to admit that it’s true I have these images, these scenarios I dream up as I drive to work, walk the dog, read words on a page with no retention.
I want to hide these parts for fear that you will see how awful I can be. Flooded with hate. Venom coursing through me. But all those feelings are true. They cannot be denied. They won’t allow me to disown them. He cut and run, and never looked back. After 16 years.
But his actions, his choices of abandonment, they say far more about him than they ever will about me.
Because I can feel this darkness, this black vastness, begin to eat me alive. And I won’t allow that. I can’t. I will not let hate take root. I will not let the vengeful fantasies, the voodoo thoughts take over. Why? To do so would mean to turn away from the light. To disavow the incredible love that surrounds me. The love that has held me up and not let me be sucked into the vortex of bleakness.
Love is not simply a word inscribed on my phone case, my sweatshirt, my yoga tank. Love is my religion, my practice, my guide. Love is what I want to be, how I want to be, who I want to be. I want to radiate love. I want to breathe love in. I want to shower you with love. Love is everything. Love is the only thing.
So, yeah. Maybe I am on a love campaign.
Amidst the recent swirling, I’ve been reflecting on my one word for the year. Secure. Not only is this my word for the year, it is one of my core desired feelings. It is how I want to feel, what I want to manifest, and the place from which I want my life to spring forth. This word has been a guidepost for me this year. When I can’t see the forest for the trees, when I’m in the thick of the swirling, I reach for it time and time again.
I have often looked to others for this feeling. Wanting to be seen, heard, held by another to feel secure. And as much as I need the love and support of others — as much as we all do — I’ve been reminded recently that this feeling, this desire, has to come from within. That at the end of the day, I’m searching for my own internal place to rest in all that secure embodies.
Then, as I was driving home from the grocery yesterday, an old favorite Indigo Girls song “randomly” came on…
“Secure yourself to heaven.
Hold on tight, the night has come.
Fasten up your earthly burdens,
You have just begun.”
That’s right. This journey, in so many ways, is in its tender dawn. I have just begun. And that sense of trust, feeling rooted and secure, will come. It will come.
I don’t want summer to end. The slower pace, the lessened responsibilities, the lack of structure. That all sounds just so very good as I write these words. Yes, it sounds good to me, in theory. If I get quiet with myself and I’m really honest, I know these kinds of days don’t equate to the feelings in myself for which I long. The truth is, I’m restless. I’m antsy. I’m a little down.
Knowing myself — really knowing and accepting myself — is a work in progress. I heard Gretchen Rubin give a great talk last year on this very subject, and I’m only now hearing all of its reverberations. Over time, and particularly of late, I’m becoming more and more clear that my personality is wired for structure. Spontaneity, free-flowing time, and days without set plans all seem enticing to me. It sounds great. But it isn’t great for me. Those type of days make me feel more restless, more antsy, more depressed. I realize I have been holding on to some notion that those kind of days are supposed to be awesome and fun and freeing. After all, I can sleep in if I want. I can stay home in my pjs all day, be with Parker, and work on my manuscripts. I don’t have scheduled meetings, so the day can just flow. Sounds good, right? As much as I don’t want to let the idea go that I could be “unstructured, free-flowing Meghan,” I have to accept the truth that these kind of days are not good for me. I have to know and honor my true Self enough to accept who I am.
This acceptance fills me with some excitement. Getting closer to my truth is GOOD! I’m already thinking through my plans to kick this restlessness to the curb. Although it still only the first week of August, my summer is just about over. I leave this week for the American Psychological Association conference and and when I return, preparations for the semester will be in full swing as classes begin a few short days later. Thus, with the new semester on the horizon, I’m thinking through the structure I want to build for myself. I’m making plans for how and when I want to spend my time — writing my book, working on research manuscripts, teaching class, meeting with students, yoga, lunches/walks/happy hour with friends, dates with Tony. These are all the parts of my life I want to really sink into, and for me to really sink in, I need to prioritize and schedule it all. As well, I need to wake up, get dressed, and leave the house. As a true (and extreme) extrovert, I need to be with other people, even if it’s working and writing at the coffee shop. Staying at home in my pjs all day, alone, is a recipe for disaster. That’s knowing myself, being secure in who I am, and living my truth.