To Love, Others and Myself.

November 17, 2024

To Love, Others and Myself.

It’s an odd world. We are odd beings, capable of such incredible things. Yet, as we are able to forgive others and love others unconditionally, we struggle to love and forgive ourselves.

There’s an odd magic in this world. The way beauty hides in plain sight, like a secret waiting for the right eyes to see. Perhaps they don’t know how, or maybe they’re too lost in their own noise. It’s the fools and the simple-hearted who never notice the water until the well has long run dry. To see what slips through most hands without a second thought. I wonder if I’m one of them, glancing past the beauty within myself, within others, too afraid to look too closely, hidden under the guise of the ordinary. It’s easier, after all, to let the world see only shadows. To stand on a stage might mean showing the world my true self, but what if that stage turns me into something else, a reflection of what I think they want, and not who I am?

The geese are calling now, their wings dividing the cooling air, announcing the turning of the season. They tell secrets to the autumn sky; a language I wish I could understand. Their flight reminds me of her. We’ve seen each other a few times since I’ve returned, and every encounter leaves me unsettled in the most curious way. Though we’ve barely exchanged words, her presence is my inspiration; what if she knew? It’s as if the air between us hums with something unspoken, something I’m not brave enough to name.

Am I in love? Falling in love? It’s hard to say. It doesn’t feel like lust, that wild and fleeting hunger, but something quieter, softer. Still, I can’t deny the uncertainty in the beat of my pulse. After everything I’ve been through over the last three years, all the inner storms and wreckage, I don’t trust myself to know. My emotions are like leaves caught in a sudden wind, scattered and restless, impossible to pin down.

But one thing I do know: this isn’t the time to cling to something or someone, that doesn’t wish to be held. Love without expectation that’s the thought that keeps surfacing. To let her be, to let my feelings exist in their grace without demanding anything in return. Maybe that’s the lesson: to love in its purest form, unclouded by wants or fears.

The geese keep flying, their honks fading into the horizon. Perhaps they carry my thoughts with them, my hopes, my uncertainties. If she is the autumn, then I must be the fleeting summer, learning how to let go and embrace the change. Maybe, in time, she’ll see me. Or maybe she won’t. Either way, the beauty remains, in her, in the moment, and even in the unspoken words between us.