Updated: Jan 27, 2022
Distant/avoidant men have been my training ground. A battle of constant anxiety. Looking deep into myself for things I could do. Things I could say. To feel their chilling disconnection morph into affectionate acceptance. Except that warmth came in the form of a blazing fire rushing towards me. A rage of egoistic proportion sweltering with potential love. My boundaries, never strong enough to prevent myself from burning. In such a quick, unexpected firestorm.
I was measuring their capacity with my expectation. Now I understand. Their assumption, it seemed. Was for me, only to accept their action, absorb the shock. Interpreting it as a potentiality of the bigger capability they wanted to have, but didn’t. Who was to know. We can’t comprehend this when when we are children (and still as adults it’s hard to do). While meditating a day ago, a flow of remembrances filtered through. An unchained melody of moments with my grandfather. Presenting themselves as the gift of acceptance, love and care he was entrusting me with. In that vision I was eight years old with an enormous, porous heart. Longing for more. Not knowing, that was all he could give. In that space of memory, time and breath. Suddenly I felt his love wash over me. Grateful for the moments I had with him. The lunches, Christmases, afternoons and blessings he would give us every time we left the house. Without fail!
With a little help of the unseen, unknown fiber of quantum entanglement. I hold a better understanding of each of our expansive reaches for love. That which we need so much of growing up, is really only given to us. In measurable portions according to what our loved ones have in their being for themselves. It really is nobody's fault. We all fail at some point or another in recognizing the divine love we came to this Earth with. Let's help each other see it. Perchance converting this global raging fire into a homely ember of compassion.