In the spiritual text, A Course in Miracles, it is said that we are either being love, or we are a call for love.
The simplicity of this statement is inspiring to me. If we each, all of us, adhered to this sentiment, then we might avoid many of the conflicts we encounter.
We’d see those we love as either being love, or calling out for it.
Then, we’d have choice. Instead of confusion or sadness, we would know to just meet them with love.
Today, all I wanted was to be cared for. Due to my premenstrual symptoms and feeling hormonal and teary, I wanted a reprieve from the day.
What normally seems like a world I wish to seize and conquer, today felt like a gauntlet I feared to run. I had no interest in making it through.
I wanted to be held and nurtured.
I did the best I could to reach out to the man I am seeing. When his response seemed not enough, I felt myself retract and harden in the face of my surmised rejection.
I told him never-mind and then continued on with my day, getting things done, making meetings and having phone calls. I pushed through.
By late eve, I was angry.
What I wanted was tender care.
What I did was attempt to get it in a round about way.
When the other didn’t read my mind, show up strong, and come through for me, I lashed out.
Instead of asking for care, I said, “I don’t really want to see each other anymore.”
It was easier to push away then to say, “I need you.”
I am not one to need.
I so wish to receive.
I just don’t know how sometimes.
I hung up the phone.
I cried.
How could it be that when what I wanted most was closeness, I created separation?
In the midst of my breakdown I could see all the places I tough it out, plow through, and be independent.
I pride myself on being able to go it alone.
I don’t really need anyone, for anything, seems to be the mantra of the little girl inside.
In the medicine of my tears and the rawness of my cycle, I could see it all so clear.
The ways I push away, like a child, when that’s not what I want.
Raw and exposed in my vulnerability, my attempt to ask for love was more like a baby bird attempting a first chirp.
I suppose this pattern could have happened just that way- I see my baby self in a crib, if my cry was not answered, my request not soothed, then I could have learned from VERY early to go it alone. I had no other choice. I was a mere babe. This pondering may be much closer to the truth than I care to admit.
We are either love, or a call for love.
Remember this next time someone you care for reaches out.
If they are lashing out, creating separation, remember the little child within them is calling out for love. That’s it. Pure and simple.
Sometimes, we don’t know how to get what we most want. Sometimes, we’ve been so trained to tough it out, that we isolate ourselves in our times of greatest need.
Let us be the light unto each other.
Let us be brave lovers with helping hands when those we hold dear have forgotten the ways of joining; in their attempts to separate, let us be the hands that reach out and heal.
In the end, I confessed. I admitted that was my attempt at calling our for love. He showed up. Said, “I’m sorry I wasn’t there.”
Then, he took me out to dinner, bought me flowers, chocolate and WishGarden PMS emotional support. Which is amazing, by the way. Women, try it! (I am not an affiliate or anything, just love their products.)
Now, we are one step closer to navigating my cycles, our love, and the wonderfully rich (and wound-triggering) road of intimacy.
Love is all you need.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CLEtGRUrtJo
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