Four Walls II: Destination...Or Hallucination?

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It's funny to me that the one paragraph that was my last thought, an after-thought, really, is what keeps me daydreaming on my bike ride this morning. Comments from readers and friends spurring me on in my thinking, my processing, my feeling. Two men in my life who mean much to me responded to my writing. Their responses were quite different. I'm mulling over their words, his words, his words, and his/his thoughts, perspective, feelings. Suddenly it is so clear to me.

I remember a day in San Francisco a few years ago. Sitting back in the apartment, windows open to the brisk autumn evening fog. Listening to the sounds of a concert in the park. I remember thinking "Oh, I should go to that concert, they're right there!". The music rippling through the breeze and into my heart. I relaxed into the love, my soul whispering, "Oh, my gosh, it was such a joy." The memories warmed me as a blanket wrapping itself around me. I was there again. I lay back listening to the faint sounds drifting across the fields, soaring over the lake, music, the joyful cheering, friends and lovers cover the ground enthralled with the music. "Incredible." Slowly, sneaking into my head, crawling under the surface, "I don't HAVE to do go there. Just because I've done it before, just because it was lovely then." I already live in the memory, the love of all the other times.

This morning, I think I recognize that in my longing for a partner, a lover. Really, my true love came to me more than once, in different packaging. We dream, we love, we sing, we dance, we shed tears together and laugh at the possibilities. Each moment, every touch, the tiny-est hush of love. "Oh, yes, that was wonderful. It is."

My one true love is with me always, each and every one of them. Each different as night and day. I don't need to keep looking for it, him, or him, or... The love is mine to keep.

My life now is such that I could almost explode from the love that surrounds me, holds me, lifts me up. No need to go looking for it. I shake my head in disbelief that I would walk right past it.

I wouldn't, couldn't fly with a dove. I shouldn't, mustn't, bypass my love. It's right in my fingers, in so many flavors I could scream.