I’m watching the mountains change color as the sun sets. For just these few moments, the glow is indescribable in its peach, pink, orange, purple palette. And, in the time it took me to type that, shadows swallow the peaks and only the memory remains. I love that mountain. I look to it now and see my Mother’s ashes, the ashes of her three beloved dogs as well. I see my Mum on the beautiful mountain. I love my Mother.
I love my dogs. They have been fed supper, but try to convince me otherwise! I love their cleverness and soft warmth and loyalty. I love my horses. I love their strength and gentleness. I love their ability to adjust and rise to the occasion and I love just how incredibly beautiful they are.
I love a lot of beings. I love a lot of things. And my favorite definition of love is from Eric Fromm: “Love is the active promotion of the well being of the love object”. My mentor in Dressage shared that with me, decades ago, in an article he wrote with personal notes to me attached. His name was/is Charles deKunffy. He taught me how to love Dressage and how to love horses on new levels. I love him, too.
That definition touches my spirit – I really hope that is the way in which I love others… I have been loved in that fashion in mostly platonic relationships… that “active promotion of the well being”. I have loved clients I worked with in equine assisted psychotherapy and loved horses that belonged to other people.
I love rock and roll bands and I love my didgeridoos.
One word has so many interpretations and flavors.
I love the warm weather and I love the stars at night. I tell my furnace that I love it and I say, “thank you” every time I walk by it when it is running (I really do, and I mean it).
And even when love goes awry, tasting bitter after a flavor too sweet, it is something to have savored, not something to regret. No love is wasted. It holds well its own sovereignty and lights its own way even in the hands and minds of those who would manipulate with it or be swayed by it. Love is never wasted. Love is an energy like sunlight, like the breezes that catch our breath or slam upon a beach driving the waves. Love finds its own way through pretense, through sorrow and through the over exuberance of lust. Love prevails. Love is patient and gentle, yet brave and daunting. My soul is full of love and my heart remains the door through which it comes and goes…
Tonight I saw that glowing mountain, fleeting as the show was, and I felt the love moving through me. I’ll never close that door. I will never block the flow of that very essence of life itself.