August 21, 2015

A Manifesto for Love.

leather jacket love

Magic needs a magician.

And we are the weavers of the light.

Love is the ultimate magic, of course. But without the courage of a mage or a sorceress, it swirls around in nothingness, longing to be unleashed and woven into fabrics of honest hearts and open lives. We can watch a top hat our entire lives without a single rabbit ever appearing.

Because magic doesn’t work like that. Someone has to wave the wand.

Without truth, love is empty. A glass with no wine. Truth is the body of our love, the essence of our peace. So love truly. Not just honestly. That’s a prerequisite to adult humanity. To love truly is to be open. To be willing not only to be seen, but to see. And to see everything.

There is no speed. Nothing is too fast nor slow. Love resides in whatever is holy. Whatever is nourishing and inline with your soul. Whatever you stand by. Whatever you would tell your mother about. Don’t rush, but don’t delay. Love will wait and love will keep up.

Never doubt love. It may not ever make sense. But doubt is the cancer of love. And just like the fairies, every time you doubt it, another part of it dies. And no amount of clapping will mend it in the way that real reflection, admission and forgiveness will. 

To chase love, only to be half hearted, distant, distracted or take it for granted once you find it is like seeking water in a desert without bringing a bucket. You’ll enjoy the spring for a day or two, but you’ll move nowhere. And eventually the water will move on, tired of waiting for you to embrace it. And if you had listened, the oasis would’ve asked, “why seek me so fervently to assume that I don’t need to be held too?”

Recognize yourself. You will only believe in love when you see what it’s loving. See all of yourself as you are. Neither good nor bad, just yourself. Without this you won’t understand love’s alchemical reaction when it touches your skin. Love wants to love all of you. But you must love yourself first. And you can’t love what you don’t see.

Passion my love! Yes, in time, love will mature as we do to become a steady rock on which to rely. It will become the quiet whispers and the gentle hand, the knowing eyes and the winter strolls. But no fire glows long in to the night without first roaring its logs to gold. You must blow on it and feed it and make it believe your words with the taste of your breath. Run passion through those forests and commit to starting fires. Be relentless with the tiniest sparks and bring them to all of life.

Nothing is wrong. Not really. Not while we walk every step with intention for good and know every thought and seek their source. If love is our aim, if love is our life, if love is in our eyes and everything we do is for love—there is nothing we can do wrong. If you take your eye off the love you’ll be in dangerous territory, where you alone are to blame for what you lose.

Make time. Did you know that you can do that? It’s yours to create. So create it well. You have more than enough to go around and you’ll quickly see that time is the food of love. The more we give it, the stronger it grows. It’s okay to feel stretched. It’s okay to feel pulled. But you must realize that if love doesn’t grow, it’s not being fed enough. So give and ask for time. 

You and your love are sacred. Do not waste it on lack or emptiness or those who will not remember the color of your eyes or every freckle on your legs. Love is fun. But fun is not love. Love is escape. But escape is not love. Love is sex. But sex is not love. Treasure and delight in yourself. Relish your sensuality and your beauty and your path to the divine. Know your power and your gift and know that one day love will swirl around you and in you. You will know nothing but love. All else will be gone. So why make memories to be forgotten?

Find freedom. But don’t confuse that with recklessness. Freedom is peace. Some call it enlightenment, some call it “being saved” while others call it happiness. Whatever we call it, it’s all the same. It’s what we have left in that tiny, quiet moment before sleep. It’s the truest of truths about our inner ocean. Is it calm or is it rough? Love can survive any storm. It’s just harder to keep your eyes on love when there are waves in front of it.

Love isn’t a flower. It’s a whole garden. Varied in its beauty and vast in its shades. You are the ground. Love grows in you. Be fertile and strong. Hold what feeds you and let go of what doesn’t. Work deep in your dirt. For love’s roots are vast. You’ll be no good for love if you remove stones from the top only. You must go deeper. You must keep going until your fingers are scorched by lava. When you reach your fire, your core, you’ll know that this is how deep love’s roots wish to go.

But more than anything. Love love right back. With whatever you’ve got, in the only way you know how, love. 

Love wants to love you. 

So let it.


Relephant read:

I want You. {Poem}


Author: Andy Charrington

Editor: Ashleigh Hitchcock

Photo: flickr

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