Love me like my life depended on it.
Image by Farouq Samnani.
As I was pondering my existence and what I felt called to discuss today, I logged into Medium and saw that someone had recently shared one of my pieces.
I began to read the comedic essay again, pleased to find myself laughing aloud. And even more pleased to see that what I wrote reminded me of my message for you, today.
I fell in love this week.
I think I fall in love every week, every day, and with all things beautiful, true, and soulful. And that seems to be a problem on this earth planet thing. People seem to only want you to love them. Yes, they all assert, we are love. We are Christ. We are higher consciousness. We’re to follow in the footsteps of the prophet. The rhetoric, religion, or even the specific jargon used doesn’t much matter; the point remains the same.
We are love.
And yet when asked the question, “Are you capable of loving multiple people the way you love me,” I somehow feel trapped. As if the honest answer is the wrong answer.
I don’t view the world in isolation. I don’t think that our love is limited to one person or thing. I don’t think the sun shines for one plant, person, or mountaintop; it shines for all.
As I see it, where we perch ourselves vibrationally, directly dictates our realities and how we perceive what’s unfolding before us. It tells others who we are and what we’re about before we even utter a word, so these questions of how I might love another, when our very essence and thus our highest expression, is love, are confusing, backward, and unnecessary to me.
Why speak of war in a time of peace?
Why plan for death when we’re in the middle of celebrating life?
Why ask questions that don’t feel good, with the hope of an answer that will make you feel better from the shitty state you just put yourself in? Why not just ask questions that feel good all over?
People look to spiritual leaders to find unconditional love and to emulate it.
Some follow rigid religious structures to attain this, others choose the path of “no path”, and others still, dabble with everything in between.
Within this search lay the same treasure: unconditional love. To know what the sun feels like from the mountaintop.
To be loved as we are without the need to do or be anything else.
To be loved for who we are without needing to change to make someone else feel better.
And it’s tricky terrain.
As I sit in front of this man, metaphorically speaking, and he asks me if I’m capable of loving more than one person, the answer is an emphatic yes.
And yet, that yes feels heavy. It’s ridden with misunderstandings, projections, and the weight of their energy dropping as they feel rejected or even played.
How could she love another the way she loves me?
Because we are love.
That’s like asking if I breathe around others, too. Or is it just around you?
We are love and how we express such love is a choice.
limitationS OFTEN make people feel safe.
In the absolute sense, we're not limited in our capacity to love, to express, or to help others. It amazes me to see how quickly, though, one will hand over their freedom for a pair of manacles with the promise of greater freedom.
“Chain me so that I may be free.”
As vibrational beings, to vibe at a bright level is to inherently feel love for humanity and immense love for self.
It’s to be turned on down to your core.
And when you’re in the presence of others who are also in this place, love as a language and state is more readily understood.
So when I’m asked if I’m able to love more than on person… the answer is of course.
The lie of the century is that our love is limited And this limitation is self-inflicted.
My love for humanity doesn’t limit my love for you.
Do not ask me to only love you, to derive my sense of security from you, to clip my wings, sit nicely at the table and be a lady.
Don’t ask me to quiet my voice in public, to silence the voice within, the one that sings sweet southern blues of adventure, love, and bravery, or to train myself to accept affection from only you.
You, this all-encompassing you, enjoy my presence which is the direct result of living in this way.
And what is this way?
Pursue what feels good.
Nourish myself on a deep level. Be open to love in all forms. In flirtation, in self-approval, and in celebration.
And yet, you want to own me.
A piece of me. And it’s all quite natural, really. Who wouldn’t want to own something so decadent and free?
You want to know that I won’t leave, ever.
And to be this is to be dead.
And no one wants what isn’t alive unless you yourself are dead.
It’s the majesty of my flight that called you to me, the span of my wings and the elegance of my dance through the sky that you longed for.
Is that not what you fell in love with? Is that not what called to you?
And now you say fly for me, only.
Sing for me, only.
How could you soar in such a way with another, you ask me with indignation.
How could you think to share your song, even for a moment, with one who isn’t I?
And to that, I say I am simply a bird.
That to sing is as natural as to fly or to breathe.
And that it gives me great joy to share these gifts.
That I’m a free moving being, as are you.
And that I welcome you in the sky above, with me, to fly if you so choose. If that brings you joy.
But throw away your cage.
Throw away your old ideas of love as entrapment.
Of love in its highest state as mere fornication.
Of love as anything less than liberated freedom on the back of the goddess from within the blazing sun.
Love me as if my life depended on it.
Because in that way, I could never be anything less than free and happy.