Thursday, February 4, 2016

Love Isn't Easy...

I have heard far too often lately that love shouldn't be this hard--that when it is "right" it just falls into place. Not only is this so far from true, it is the very illusion that is responsible for the dissolution of many loves.

Love takes an immense amount of work. Not only do we need to build it brick by brick, but we need to form each one of those bricks with our bare hands and even more naked hearts. We need to construct them out of so many things that are not readily available to our guarded, expectant, disillusioned selves: trust, honesty, forgiveness, patience, perspective, a willingness to see and be seen, commitment, integrity. And we have to actively participate in the construction, not just hope that it happens as we go about living our lives.

I believe we came up with that idea--that love should be easy-- by how rapturous the initial falling can be. When our energy collides heart, soul, head on with another's, and the vibration propels us into a state we are sure is love. We get lost in the ecstasy, the potential, and allow ourselves the sweet buoyancy of drifting together. Until the sailing is not so smooth, and the collisions come instead as arguments, as unravellings, as revealings of true sides and questioning what it is you thought you once had. Because surely it shouldn't be this hard...

You know what they say about Rome? Same goes for love.

And how exquisite is Rome? Worth the efforts, I mean, the pizza alone…Seriously though, love that is worked for, that you truly gave yourself to the growth of, is satiating. That initial connection is real. Desire, lust, physical attraction all very, very real. Our bodies know something our minds and hearts have yet to figure out--that there is a reason you're drawn to someone. And that very reason is less connected to how that person feels entwined with you, and more to do with your souls connecting.

I recently learned the difference between a soul mate and a deeper connection (known as your twin flame for the serendipitous and synchronistic coming together with your own). While soul mates compliment each other, twin flames mirror each other. They are the embodiment of each others lessons, and strive to teach, guide, and grow with the other in love. You can have a handful of soul mates in your life that, in the ease of connection from similar likes, dislikes, ways of viewing the world, mannerisms, temperaments, vibrations, it feels like love with them. But I assure you, a soul mate does not mean a love match. Finding someone who challenges you, who makes you work to understand your own love and affection (for yourself and them), who is intentional and observant, inquisitive and blunt, and who might ebb and flow from your life--as twin flames can continue to grow together even apart-- but ultimately stays connected because, hey, there is work still to be done--there you might have love.

Do not shy away from the work. Although we cannot know forever any more than we can predict never in love, we needn't let fear, discomfort, or a lilt in our early stages of bliss to cause us to run. If anything, meet the dis-ease. You will know when there is something to work on or walk away from; you will know the difference between being abused, abandoned, falling for someone emotionally unavailable, and when the discomfort is simply from being seen more intimately than you have been. Meet the discomfort and be in it. You deserve to grow in love--to be brought to your highest self and to bring another to theirs.

Collect your bricks. Enjoy the process, the construction of your exquisite love story.

As published by Elephant Journal: 

I'm loving you now {poem}

You hesitate in fear of tomorrow,looking for flaws in our love,

reasons to shelter your heart
and step away.
Be honest.
We cannot know forever
any more than we can know never.
All I have you for is right now,
so take me as I am and let me love you
in the only ways I know how,
and in every way I can be taught.
Tell me about your love,
or—better yet—show me.
Be alive.
Reach out and touch me—
our bodies intrinsically connected,
ahead of our minds
which logic their way through love.
Be curious,
Ask for what you need to know
and tell me only the richest truths.
Like neat whiskey
let me sip each bit of you,
savouring all I have come to know
and have the urgency to give back.
Be immediate.
Make love to me with your mind,
yet understand that my forehead
pressed to yours can say more
than a word—
each embrace another exquisite,
intimate detail.
Be enraptured.
Collide with me.
It does not matter where this goes,
it does not matter for how long.
I am here, my mind
and soul are naked
and as fragile as my heart may seem,
I stand strong to receive you.
If you want to love me fiercely
then take hold of me—
I’m yours.
If you want to linger
in thoughts, then I am here
with my wisdom and dreams.
Take my fingers in yours—
love without a map.
Let us evolve
into anything
mastering nothing.
Right now we have everything,
and to know of tomorrow
won’t change my love for you now.

Monday, February 1, 2016

Together and Apart {poem}

We are not together--
were we ever?
Can you call it together when
our bodies spoke for the entirety of our beings?

I loved the way your capable
arms moved me where you wanted,
tossed me into a pile of sheets,
scooped me from myself
and into the intense illusion of "us."

These arms that my gentle figure
felt so safe in,
yet my heart felt so not.

So afraid to love you fully
for as soon as your hands loosened their grip
you were gone.
Vacant. So obviously lost
in the deception of our devotion.

I loved the language we created with our lips,
my lips at once willingly familiar to yours,
and the wildest of discoveries--
still I have never been kissed like that.

And still I can feel them part from mine
and your heated breathe flood
like steam to my mind
clouding my intuition

so that all I felt was the warm,
syrupy residue of you,
ignoring the detachment so much larger
than your flesh.

Until I couldn't ignore any longer
and neither could you.

Until our hands slipped apart
and we could step back,
clothed again in our fears
and the wicked truth of our far too omnipotent desire.

Until there was enough space to
feel something far more sensual;
we continue to collide outside of our bodies,
inside of our hearts and minds
and my spirit felt as my lips once had.

This is how I want to be with you:
all of me.
Undress the finest details of my truth,
Collect with your own sense of
self mine, and caress my soul
with the same sweetness you would my skin.

My heart is less tender for fear,
My mind more clear,
and my body less an object to lose yourself in,
but a vessel to find more of me.

We are more together here,
And I love that.

As published by Elephant Journal:

Thursday, January 21, 2016

i don't want to love you like this {poem}

I don't want to love you like this.

I don't want to play games with sensuality,
lingering too long with every touch,
aware of the power in my fingertips
as they trace your skin
beneath your clothing-
knowing I could remove them all with this one coy finger.

I don't want to look for answers in how your body
embraces mine,
translate your sighs as promises
you never meant to keep.
It is so very convincing, you leaning into me
and perhaps if I lean back
you'll believe in this surface love of mine.

A love that would rather feel your arms
than hear your words.
That wants to kiss your lips to stop
you from asking questions.
Stop checking in with me and press into me--
that way I can choose what I want to hear
through what I feel.

That way I can continue to be deceived
by this thing I call love.
If ignorance is bliss than
I am strung out on lust,
high off an idea
that the longer you hold me
the longer I can hide.

But you see me.
You see that I am afraid
not of loving you
but what it might mean to let you love me.
What I might have to give.
--give up--
What I would have to share with you
for you to truly see me.
Oh the weight of my heart is so much heavier
than your entire body on mine.

I don't want to love you easy,
I want a much more fragile nakedness.
I want more than just to want you,
I want to know you.
I want to be more distracted by your
integrity than I am by
how I know you will feel;
to see your thoughts as response
to your heart.
To let you see all that you cannot touch
and touch so sweetly
all that you cannot see.
I want to love you in ways
I don't yet know how.

As published on Elephant Journal:

i am committed to you {poem}

I am committed to you.

God, just the thought of that
used to terrify me--
bind me in breathlessness
strangling any amount of
freedom my heart
thought it would lose
in loving only you.

Young, ignorant heart.
It knew not the vastness,
the immense capacity it has
to love--
that to give it to you
was not a limitation at all
but the purest release into loving.

It feared what it might miss out on,
who else's heart might match
its rhythm; who else's love
could seep into the contours
of its wounds--
unhealed scars from battling
Love itself.

But it is ready now.
More patient.
Reactions swell like
rich ocean waves
only to crash and collect
back into the sea.
My heart now knows
the pattern of passing fear
and remains free; unarmed.

Oh what freedom there is in
love, knowing now
it needs nothing in return,
is bound only be its own intentional
propensity to feel.
This heart is committed to you
without expectation,
without conditions.
It knows that your love
is not the same as its own,
and does not search yours
to lend it purpose.

My heart is committed to you
in its honest,
sweetly simple
commitment to love itself.

As published on Elephant Journal:

Sunday, January 17, 2016

Hold me {poem}

Hold me.
Wrap your thick,
capable arms around me
and without words 
ask me not to leave.
Gather me in you
to remember how safe it is here.
A fire prepared to combust at the whisper
of breathe into a 
neglected contour of skin. 

Hold my gaze
and you'll see even more to feel;
flickering specs of affirmation.
I see you.
See me.
Look for what you know
yet stay intimately curious
at all that unravels in
tender observation.

Hold space for me.
Let me react. 
Let me thrash with passion and 
cry with want--
softened by your patience
as I try to move from my mind to my heart
and trust that there is no rush
in loving you.

Hold back,
just for a moment.
Collect all that you touch
all that you see
and all that you can admit to want.
Sit with it.
Be provoked.
Be called to feel.
As I learn how to love you,
learn how to receive it.
Take in love not as you
know it to be,
but as it is for us.
And fearlessly hold more tightly
to it.

As published on Elephant Journal:

Thursday, January 7, 2016

My worth {poem}

To you I sway like sweet waves of honey,
and though the way my hips move to unheard music has you hypnotized,
there’s more to me than curves to trace with your hands.

My value isn’t in the skin underneath your fingertips as you reach out to touch what tempts you.
Lingering there will not collect my worth, and you cannot kiss me enough to make it known to me.

I do not find value in your arms,
comfort, yes,
oh yes
but my space in your bed is not my worth.

Nor is my space in your heart.

Love me.
Please do.
Love me for my body
and the way it fits in the grooves of yours and the way we glide together into each parcel of space.
Love me for the familiar scent of my
skin when you
close in on my neck.

Love me for the heart that
is pressed to yours
and the love you know it has for you—
not because I have told you
but from the undeniable richness of
our colliding energy,
the way your bones know the elixir
of their own marrow.

Love that it is safe here
in Us
and our unwavering honesty—
never has anything we cannot see
or touch
been so true.

Love me for the way I tease your mind
with my thoughts,
and how our dueling perspectives
amplify our senses.

But know that no amount of
attraction will detail my worth.

That while you place value on me,
and I on you
this love is not an exchange.
I do not give you my body,
touch my lips to yours,
feel my bones quake
because to be held by you
makes me worth something.
Your approval
is flattering and
your agreement
fiercely connecting
but I am not validated by it.

I am worth just as much with any of that as with nothing at all;

you see,
my value,
is in my Self
and the purity of my being alive at all—just as yours
should be to you.

As published by Elephant Journal: