Tuesday, October 29, 2013
7-26-13 RMB Love is a Skill
Dear Rita Mae Brown,
Here is another quote I found on the website that my editor friend, Jennifer Silva Redmond, referred me to for writing techniques. “Love is a skill you learn” by Chuck Palahniuk.
I would not have previously considered love a skill, but it makes so much sense. It applies to love in all types of relationships. I recently had a conversation with a friend about her daughter’s relationship with her daughter’s father. I saw much of my father in the description of my friend’s ex husband.
She’s known me several years and has heard me speak of my father before. She added to the comparison that my father has made more efforts to connect with me. She pointed out the significance of his efforts. Perhaps it was from her sharing her perspective that I loosened up some. When I called to tell him about the sister in the hospital, we had a longer conversation than usual.
He asked about my writing and I told him about all of it. He’s already read the RMB letters written up until our reunion. I told him about a series I have in mind that I have written so little of and I told him about the love story America. He said he wanted to read it all.
“The love story is between two women, Dad.”
“That’s okay. I want to read whatever you write.”
“It includes sex, Dad…between two women.”
“That’s what sells books these days. I want to read it.”
After our talk I emailed it, along with the recent RMB letters and other bits, before I had a chance to chicken out. Hmmm, maybe I am growing up or, perhaps, improving on my loving/trusting skills. Maybe he is too. I dare say, love is a complicated skill.
Since the reunion, through the conversation with my friend and in recent talks with my father, I have thought a lot about your father. The time you had with him was so brief and yet there was so much love there, a whole lifetime’s worth. “Love doesn’t die. It keeps growing.” Nickel says this of her father in Bingo as she speaks of her love for him growing through the years since his passing.
This is one spot where I see so much of you in Nickel…and so much of your father in you.
All my best,
Sunday, October 27, 2013
7-25-13 RMB Bewildered
Dear Rita Mae Brown,
The sister that lives with me has been complaining of feeling ill for a few days, mostly of a fever. It didn’t seem high to me and medication brings it back down when it rises. Perhaps I’m tarnished by all those around me that insist they are in dire need when that is not the case at all…picture Fred Sanford on the show “Sanford and Son” feigning a heart attack.
Tarnished or insensitive or too buried within my cave, whatever I am, I gave the sister little attention over the matter, until tonight. Tonight I could see for myself she was clearly not well. I drove her to the ER. I didn’t even wait for her. She has done this drill before, I figured she would call when they diagnosed her and prescribed medication. I was prepared to get the call at any time of the night to go pick her up.
The call came, but it was not to pick her up. They admitted her. Kidney failure, serious business. They say they caught it in time.
Wow, why didn’t I see that coming? Sometimes my Spidey sense fails me…or maybe it is I that lacked awareness to catch the message or the compassion to feel it.
Often it is hard to “see” those nearest. When reading tarot cards for strangers I get a variety of images and messages, but when working with someone close, it’s more of a stretch. The analytical mind sticks its nose in, filtering the message, justifying the unknown with the known, putting a shade on scenarios so that they make sense with what I know of the individual.
It’s hard, but sometimes I have to force myself to remember that there is a whole lot in our universe that makes no sense at all.
Thursday, October 24, 2013
7-24-13 RMB Arts
Dear Rita Mae Brown,
The ladies I work with went out to see Sandra Bullock in her new movie Heat. I went with them. Sister stays home with a fever, not feeling well at all.
The movie is good. I like Sandra Bullock. She made me laugh out loud in parts. I needed that, more than I realized…so much more than I realized.
What moves us to laughter, to tears? What helps us through a day, or a life? It differs for each of us, yet there is common ground, places where one connects to someone, never everyone though.
I like that a smile in Cuba, Africa, Ireland, etc. is the same as a smile in America. I like that music makes most bodies sway, or tap a foot…or smile. The sun and the moon are universal symbols of something grander than their particles; something living, a part of us and our existence, another something that we have in common.
Tension between nations rise, bullies push and shove the masses. Some speak out, but most don’t. Among those that speak, many speak for themselves, their own interests…not the greater good. I am tired of the strain, worry for both my own life, for those in my inner circle, and our universe. I escape to the movie, but carry the words spoken on the news and the tales of my inner circles’ challenges.
With hearts breaking near and far, Sandra Bullock does a great thing, making us laugh when we sorely need it. The arts; stories – in film, in mass media and in print; images – drawn, painted, photographed, sculpted, built; sounds – instruments played, words sung…they carry us from one day to another, from one generation to another.
The arts are mirrors of life, from the joyous to the heartbreaking. They help us remember. They help us forget, escape the now to later return refreshed.
Many thanks to Sandra,Loraine
Monday, October 21, 2013
7-23-13 RMB Something Great
Dear Rita Mae Brown,
Today the scale tells me I have lost 60 pounds and I tell it that I must lose another 46. One friend looks at me and starts to say I don’t need to lose anymore. But she knows I really do. Still, it is a compliment that I look that much better than I did, she ends up telling me to lose just a little more, not that much.
I won’t settle for less this time. I have settled for less too much in my life, as many do. It is time for wishes to become realities. It is time for the books to be written, for me to get into shape and more, but that is all I can handle in the moments of these days.
Well, that along with making sure boys do their homework on the nights they are with me, that sister gets wherever she needs to go, that another friend stays motivated to get a job she sorely needs, that my bills are paid and another friend’s home doesn’t go into foreclosure…no matter what it is that I have to do…or give up…to make that happen, time, energy, savings.
“All you give comes back tenfold” Reverend Millie’s word have rung true in my life. I give friends and family time, support and encouragement. And, when I need those same elements, I find them, sometimes directly returned, sometimes from another source.
I wonder about the limits. How much is too much? I try to make wise choices. I try not to risk my own security to support others, but I know I overstep a line. In the end, I feel I would rather have given too much than not enough. I fear I don’t know my own limits.
I once gave too much of my heart, tore it to pieces, shattered it, trying to heal wounds that were not mine to heal. A thought has haunted me all my days, that there is a certain nummber of tears tied to every pain, if enough were shed, the pain would be gone, washed away. I shed too many tears and the pain remained. You can’t shed tears for another to heal their pain and maybe there is no relationship at all between the two, the number of tears and the healing.
Tears have subsided, new walls are firmly constructed around my heart, holding it together, the pieces patched up as best I could. Something was lost, shards too small to gather, but as important as any, like the air we breathe, too small to hold, but critical to life. Somewhere in these letters, I am finding part of what was lost. A connection, strength, power, voice, progress, all of the above?
In your books, the characters are alive in ways that show subtle cracks in their exterior. What trials have you endured to paint such pictures of life? As we read we learn what you have learned.
I watch people, those interesting creatures, and see none are whole. None are without cracks, but all hold something great, unique, special, every single one of them. I wish we could be born with such knowing. But, for some reason, humankind must struggle to appreciate what we’ve gained, including insight.
Sunday, October 20, 2013
7-21-13 RMB Comic Con Campout
Dear Rita Mae Brown,
Sometimes we do things for the fun of it, even when the act itself is not ALL fun. In the end there is an experience to share, a bonding, a memory…I suppose all of this contributes to why we camp out overnight on the pavement to be where we want to be in ten hours, a certain convention center room to see certain panels at a Comic Convention, a panel that has nothing to do with comics.
But it’s fun, right? We rotate hours of sleep, because we can’t all sleep at once, there isn’t enough room and we don’t want to carry that many supplies, pillows, blanket, etc. The air is cool, if you happen to be walking, downright cold if you are sitting still on cold pavement.
I did the campout thing one night with the gang. My sister did it for three nights, crazy woman. But in the end, she and my niece and niece’s best friend have priceless memories. There was the night that it sprinkled and my sister insisted on spreading around the blankets and supplies to the less prepared teens nearby.
As one stranger tried to protest, the stranger on the other side of the line, already resting on sister’s supplies, informed her “She won’t stop, you have to take it.” She is the quintessential “mom”.
She has brought the first Sneaky Pie book Wish You Were Here to read during the hour upon hour upon hour upon… of waiting in line. Mid day, after we have been apart and come back together, she tells me she met a woman and discussed Rita Mae Brown. The woman asked about her book and got an earful. Sister loves to talk. We are opposites in so many ways, that being one of them.
The new acquaintance likes cats, likes mysteries and will be looking for Rita Mae Brown book to read herself. Nice.
In the end we remember the fun more than the hard pavement. I’ll remember that my sister unprompted by me, brought a RMB book. I’ll remember that she spread the RMB word and shared her blankets, both acts driven by the “mom” in her, to leave a moment a better place that it otherwise would have been for those who occupied it.
Friday, October 18, 2013
7-20-13 RMB Comic Con Day One
Dear Rita Mae Brown,
Today is the first day of the San Diego International Comic Convention. I help buy tickets for my niece and sister every year, along with a friend or cousin, whomever can join. Years ago, it was her older brother that I took to the “Con”, before that I went with friends and before that I helped the staff.
That first year I was sixteen and drove my old blue ’66 Mustang. I sat in on meetings to take notes when the secretary couldn’t make it, I ran errands and during the convention I was sent to stores for supplies… markers, tickets (the kind numbered with a matching tear off piece), tape, you name it. I bought a pin from one of the booths that said “I don’t work here.” I wore it proudly, but still ran the errands.
Some friends of a friend had started the convention about 7 years before I came on board as unofficial gopher #18 (I just made that number up. There were others, but I don’t recall how many). The “Con” consisted of panels on drawing comics, the history of comics, the business of comics, comics on television, cartoons, etc. The trading floor was a sea of comic books in long cardboard boxes, table after table of them, a comic book fan’s paradise.
Today’s con is a behemoth compared to those early days. Now it consists of more video media than comics, more stars, than comic illustrators and artists. It was a place where it was not only okay to be different, but expected. I am glad that aspect of it remains.
If ever there was a place where the unique few “different” swayed the many “normals”, it is here. In this place, being a bit weird is cool. Being very strange is acceptable. And friendly is fun, even if you don’t know the person standing next to you for hours in line, by the time you reach your destination, you do.
I don’t go because there is anything in particular I have to see or get. But when I go, I do come away with something kin to the Pride Festival experience. I enjoy the variety of people, their acceptance of one another, visiting with my family and the feeling of nostalgia for the days 30 year’s ago, when we were counting tickets sold to see if the convention would make into the black, while trying to sell more tickets. About 5,000 attended then. Badges were typed on typewriters at check-in.
It has sold out several years in a row now. Over 130,000 attend and thousands more flock the streets for events happening in the surrounding hotels and establishments.
My best friend…remember the one I followed, she was the on the staff. I was her personal gopher, constantly on loan to others. She must have figured, ‘If she’s going to follow me around, might as well put her to work.’ The skirt chasing president had a huge crush on her, but then he seemed to have a crush on anything female. They warned me about him. “No, he’s really nice” I said. That day he made a pass at me…well he did do it in a nice way, but still.
Fast forward 20 years, I no longer followed her. We had long since become good friends. He was coming into town for a special “Honor the past presidents Con.” They re-connected and she found his crush was for real and the torch still shone brightly for her. They married a year later and have been together almost ten years now. Sweet.
May the force be with you,Loraine
Thursday, October 17, 2013
7-19-13 RMB Characteristics of Life
Dear Rita Mae Brown,
I have just a couple more comments on Bingo and then I will put this book to bed and move on to my first Sneaky Pie Brown/Rita Mae Brown novel Wish You Were Here.
In the conversation Nickel has with her mom near the end of the book, the end of chapter 48 to be exact, you write “She was gliding away from painful knowledge.” What a graceful way to say that.
And in the very same paragraph, “We were fighters, not criers. We stiff-armed the anguish of our own limitations, our own labyrinth of fears, even as we grasped more tightly at life with the other hand. I knew I’d struggle with that tendency for the rest of my days.”
This is why I am a fan who admires your writing, your style. The content of your work and personal example of your life are empowering. That last paragraph could describe both the real life Rita Mae Brown and her character Nickel.
It is a description that could describe anyone really, everyone to some degree or another. You paint more than characters, you paint characteristics of life. You illustrate our struggles, our limitations and our potential in universal and profound ways.
Is that what every author does, or tries to do? Possibly. However, you accomplish it.
Tuesday, October 15, 2013
7-18-13 RMB Vocabulary
Dear Rita Mae Brown,
You crack me up. In Bingo, when Nickel’s aunt discovers what her mother has trained her dog to do, she exclaims, “Julia, does everyone know about this?” Her face was empurpled.
Her face was empurpled…??? That is a Rita Mae Brown line if ever I saw one. I have never seen that phrase before. To be even more specific, I have never seen the word “empurpled” before.
I will encourage readers to read the book themselves, if they haven’t already, to discover the dog’s trick.
I look forward to expanding my vocabulary further as I make my way through your books. Your wit is a pleasure to experience.
Monday, October 14, 2013
7-17-13 RMB Seek the Light
Dear Rita Mae Brown,
In Bingo, I like that one of Mr. Pierre’s versions of a miracle is the early start of Nickel’s life and that she survived at all. I agree. With that rocky start that so mirrors your own, it’s a wonder that she survived in the story. It’s a wonder that you survived and are here with us now.
I like that his second miracle is about the war he fought in and how he and a Korean boy stood shooting at one another, managing not to even wound each another. “There is nothing noble about killing another human being…”, he elaborates, basically saying ‘for any reason at all’. He was referring to “organized violence.”
Even the phrase is creepy, “organized violence”, think Hitler, consider the village mob chasing after Frankenstein. Jennifer Silva Redmond wrote a poem that has stuck with me since I first heard it read, a decade ago. It talks about “This War, Any War”…words that would fit any war, every war.
And what of the levels that lead to violence…prejudice, discrimination, suppression, lack of acknowledgement, indifference, selfishness, resentment ?
To all things there is a path. Where does the path to organized violence begin and what can alter its course???
Perhaps energy is better placed on promoting rather than preventing. Rather than preventing violence, how can we encourage cooperation, kindness, caring, affection, appreciation?
In a discussion at Reverend Millie Landis’ church once, the idea of the devil was examined. One perspective offered is that there is no single devil, no evil entity out to get us, trying to turn us evil. But there is a lack of goodness that, in itself, leads us to evil deeds. Hell is anywhere that God is absent and Heaven is anywhere God is present.
If you are one that dislikes the image or titles God, Heaven and Hell, replace them. Evil lives where goodness is absent. The greater good, the greatest good that we can be, it conquers the wicked. Where there is light there cannot be darkness. Where we bring the light, we create our own paradise.
As with all things, what we seek we find, if we seek the light, the greatest good, we find it, and in doing so, vanquish the dark.
Aspiring for the best,
Saturday, October 12, 2013
7-16-13 RMB All One
Dear Rita Mae Brown,
Today is Tuesday and my forty-ninth birthday, not that one description of the day is any more significant than the other. My, how time flies when you are having fun…or not. Either way, it races by. I must say, I have enjoyed the decades progressively more over the years, my fourth being the best so far…by far. I am looking forward to my fifth.
I worked today. I like to work, so it was a good way to spend the day. This morning I was greeted by flowers and pastries at work. Three of us have birthday’s this month. That’s a pretty high percentage, about half our staff. The sweets were for us all.
The best part, I was treated to lunch by an old friend and a new friend, the flower bringer. By the end of lunch, my old friend and I had told the new friend about my writing; about my RMB letters and my want-to-be-a-novel America. Both were given to the new friend to read and she says it’s my fault that she is late for work now, because she reads in the morning and doesn’t want to stop. Neat.
I am quite blessed really. My life is unmarred by severe tragedy. Some that I am close to experienced such tragedy, but my greatest struggles have resulted from my own inability to handle the merely difficult aspects of life.
A sister, a niece and her best bud arrive in town early for Comic Con to treat me to a birthday dinner. They spoil me. My birthday wish…for everything to be better for everyone.
I’d better stop before rambling takes flight…back to RMB. In Bingo, the lines
“The difference between genius and stupidity is that even genius has its limits. How stupid I was to assume that tomorrow would be like today.”
“Other people’s friends could die but not mine. I needed them too much. I loved them too much. Would life be worth living without them? I knew I’d find out in the decades ahead. I felt as though I’d been hitched to Calamity’s traces and was now pulling heavy, unwelcome knowledge.”
Both of these sections from the life of your character Nickel, emit a combination of well written and insightful perspectives; words that make one stop and reflect. They had that effect on me. I never considered genius nor stupidity as having limits, but I suppose everything must…or maybe not. I like that your words make me think.
I like that sometimes friends can be as important as life itself. We are all one, in more ways than one.
Thursday, October 10, 2013
7-14-13 RMB Let the Cars Pass
Dear Rita Mae Brown,
Today was the second day of the San Diego Pride Festival. Now, at nearly forty-nine, I have attended more than a handful of Festivals. Yet, I am still awed by the sense of togetherness; the friendliness.
As I walked toward the entrance of the festival, I joined a large group heading the same way. From up ahead, I heard a car honking followed by someone shouting. As I came closer, I saw that the festival goers had blocked cars from passing due to sheer mass as we crossed the street. Pedestrians had the right of way, so a car waited at a stop sign, letting us pass. The driver in the car behind it became frustrated at the length of time he waited and the seemingly unending amount of people passing by.
Mr. Frustrated was honking his horn. The gentleman in the front car was yelling back “What do you want me to do, run them over?”
A young male couple, well young to me - they were probably in their thirties, saw this at the same time I did. They were about to cross the street and one of them put out both arms to hold back the crowd. The other followed suit as his boyfriend shouted “Hold up! Let the cars pass!”
The crowd along the street quickly turned from ten to twenty or more, as we waited and more walkers approached. By then several had noticed the exchange, their attention having been drawn to the honking. As the gentlemen in the first car passed, we all applauded. He smiled and waved his thanks. Mr. Frustrated pulled up to the stop sign next. He stopped, not expecting the same courtesy. By now our group was twenty-five or more.
“Come on, you too!” The young man shouted, waving him through.
Mr. Frustrated sheepishly drove through. Again we cheered. We were having fun, our festival experience having already begun. We were together, total strangers, enjoying an act of kindness. We could afford ten minutes of our day to extend a courtesy. After all that is what the festival is about; getting along.
A third car that had been waiting, pulled up driven by a nice lady, who was smiling at the exchange she just witnessed. She stopped at the stop sign and smiled. Our young, good Samaritan waived her through. “You too, come on, lets go!” By now several people were laughing along with the young driver.
We cheered again, wishing all three drivers a good day with our enthusiasm.
Once the coast was clear, we proceeded to cross the street, all forty or so of us. People further back had no idea why we were cheering or applauding, but fun is contagious. They applauded too.
Some things were missing in those moments; the rude person that pushes through because they can’t wait to get to the other side; the grumpy person that complains; the demanding person that insists we have the right of way...that happens elsewhere, in our everyday world…not at the Pride Festival. I like the Pride Festival.
Let the cars pass,
Tuesday, October 8, 2013
7-13-13 RMB San Diego Pride Festival
Dear Rita Mae Brown,
Today the 2013 San Diego Pride Festival begins. Having lived in San Diego all of my adult life, I heard about the Pride Festival from an early age. We look at things differently as we age. I remember thinking, ‘What are they making such a big deal about being gay for, when there is so much tyranny in the world, abuse of various sorts, etc.' I was quite young and still in my “save the world” stage. It appeared to me to be a great big party. I have never been the party type. I didn’t get the significance.
Time travel twenty years, to my early forties, and I was ready to attend my first Pride Festival. By then, I had learned that no single person can save the world. There is no Superman…or Superwoman, thus blessed, with power to do so. By forty, I learned that what we can do is save ourselves and, in doing so, become better equipped to help…help, not save…others on their journey.
Despite my own resistance, I’d learned the significance of community. You seem to have been born with an awareness of the importance of community. I see it different than most. I can “join” a gathering just by being near it, experience the energy, enjoy camaraderie. I would rather not be “with” any one person. I’d rather be “with” everyone, with their energy….its hard to explain. Some would say it is my way of keeping distant, although I feel it is quite the opposite.
Nine years ago, as I neared forty, I penciled in a variety of goals. One of which was to live more openly and be supportive of others. My main reason for going that first year? To buy the ticket; to be counted; to toss my “vote” in that this way of life and supporting all lifestyles is important. That was it. I didn’t expect to see anything in particular; didn’t go with anyone. I planned to walk around and leave, having cast my ballot for the greater good at the gate.
One of my favorite experiences is being surprised by life; finding the unexpected…and being a different person in some way because of it; wiser, stronger, braver…better.
The energy I experienced amazed me. I found myself smiling, as I passed smiling person after smiling person. There was a palpable kindness in the air. After walking through the Festival once, I walked it again and again. Then I sat and listened to live music from the grass in front of the open air Balboa Park stage, as individuals, couples and families with children all played, danced or sat and watched with me.
It’s a wonderful type of Twilight Zone feeling, seeing biker dudes…or chics…flamboyant boys, butch girls…many quite “normal” looking folk…thousands of people in all, and everyone was kind to each another. People one would never picture socializing together…gather, laugh, dance…amazing. It is a place where everyone is welcome…what a concept.
I went that first year because I felt I had something to contribute: my support, my “vote”. What I gained was far more than anything I had to offer. I gained the knowledge, the experience, of what humankind is capable of. To all those that make San Diego Pride possible, I send many thanks…for their contribution to the greater good; for showing us what is possible; for making me wiser, stronger, more hopeful, braver…and better, for having experienced it.
Sunday, October 6, 2013
7-12-13 RMB Always
Dear Rita Mae Brown,
Here are more thoughts on Bingo. When Nickie visits her father’s grave, these are among your words “I wondered if the soul did outlive the body, because if it did, I knew my father’s soul was somewhere out there trying to be useful.”
You write about so many things, well I guess you must in order to fill so many books. This is one area where I’d like to sit down to tea with you and ask your take on a soul’s life. Mine is that it definitely outlives the body; that it exists and can merge and divide with others easily. We are one…that has a whole new meaning when referring to this everlasting soul.
There are so many things that make this fact obvious to me. The same is true for past lives. I suppose there are other explanations, such as a multidimensional universe, time in flux, a universal consciousness on a grander scheme than I can grasp, etc. But, at this particular point in time, I am limited to my own perceptions, imaginations and awareness, as are we all at any point in time.
I am most comfortable thinking of time in a lineal sense, yesterday, today, then tomorrow…in that order. And I can see life’s expanse only on horizontal and vertical plains. We place ourselves at certain levels and consciously, or not, choose to stay there, traveling side to side, or elevate, or descend to another plain for a grander or lesser experience, whichever we feel we can handle.
Just as we needed to see proof that the world was not flat and that aura’s exist, there are some that will need to see proof before they could possibly believe any of the matters I speculate upon. But, in the meanwhile, some will test the theory and find their own truths.
Consider the thought of your own father hanging out and being useful now…once in that place, where this is possible, you feel a confirmation, a current running through you, an impact as deep within you as your bones. Perhaps you’ve already considered this and enjoy walks with him, brief visits or long conversations. I certainly hope so and feel it is so.
I explained this concept to my sister when our mother passed away. Soon after, she called to say she understood. While in the yard, tending to the garden that meant something to them both, she felt mom visit. She got it. She found a new truth because she was open to exploring the possibility.
Always (which also takes on a new meaning),
Thursday, October 3, 2013
7-11-13 RMB Happy Ever After
Dear Rita Mae Brown,
Today is my sister’s wedding anniversary. If my count is correct, today celebrates their thirty-third year together. The large double wedding was beautiful with my new brother-in-law’s sister marrying her high school sweetheart, who happened to be his best friend, at the same time. Both marriages have lasted.
Both couples have faced hardships. They may have been able to stay together because they managed to tap into the fluidity of love; to adjust with its tides. Their love may be stronger or deeper than others’, but I don’t think so. I know of others that have fallen deeply in love and it didn’t last. It could be that they held tight when others let loose their grip. It could simply be their destiny to stay together. Some stay together because it is the lesser evil, not them though. I know both couples fairly well and I believe they stay together because it is where they find their greatest good. It is inspiring to see happy ever after does exist now and then.
Happy Anniversary to them!Loraine
Tuesday, October 1, 2013
7-10-13 RMB Exploring Love
Dear Rita Mae Brown,
In your early writings, in books such as Plain Brown Wrapper, you bring up various pictures of society, recommendations of sorts. In Bingo, the main character, Nickie discusses society’s responsibility to all, to create a more honest, transparent atmosphere. It is interesting how Jackson, her lover, had another angle to add to the prism; that of one man loving two women and how he was as at odd with society’s picture of a family, as a gay person might be. In Alma Mater, the main characters participate in a love triangle with a happy ever after, or rather, as happy ever after as possible, ending.
“Some animals are monogamous. Some are not. They accept their fundamental natures. When it comes to humans, the kindest way to approach this is to understand that monogamy is contrary to nature but necessary for the greater social good.” ~Rita Mae Brown
You have obviously put some thought into how love fits in society and voiced a variety of possibilities. It is important for authors to show us ourselves, how we are and how we could be. You are brave to tackle this from so many perspectives. You are brave to have lived a life exploring possibilities, loving deeply and facing the outcome, regardless of the consequences.
Who we love, how we love and why we love is such a fluid merger, that it is impossible to tell where one ends and another begins.
At the root of the matter, before we truly understand two lovers, or three, or love of thy neighbor, or a society accepting of love in its many shades, so much must transpire. First, to explore love, affection, compassion, the benefits, the life it lives. “God is love” Reverend Millie Landis preached weekly.
I began to see what she meant. I began to see strength in the energy that flows when love is present. Many would scoff at the thought that this entity lives, present and powerful. Yet, everyone has felt a draw towards someone or something they love. It works like a magnet on our souls. Sometimes we work with it and experience a sense of being in sync with ourselves, our mission. Sometimes we fight it, or become confused and at a loss to how to work with it…square pegs in round holes.
It has an intelligence, one that identifies when something will work and when it won’t. One day we may feel we have found the perfect mate and the next day our world lay in ruins as the relationship crumbles. We are not yet as fluid as love, as life. We like our square pegs to fit perfectly, snug and warm. We find a perfect moment and attempt to make it last a lifetime. We insist on what “I want” and “I need”, rather than seek “what’s next?”
If we understood love, or even affection, perhaps compassion, the qualities, the benefits, to ourselves and others, would we be more accepting; willing to find common ground? Will humankind ever appreciate our differences? Imagine all we could learn from one another, if we did.
“We aren’t going to get anywhere as individuals or as a nation
if we don’t negotiate our differences with trust.” ~Rita Mae Brown