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I’ve come to my blog a number of times over the past few months, with a mixture of wanting to contribute again and not knowing where to begin or what to say. What started out as a fun way to chronicle my journey became a public record of the surface of my life for the last year; in the meantime, the depths went ignored, then acknowledged, then denied, and finally accepted. I guess I wasn’t, and still am not, really interested in setting out such things for the consumption of others, but it leaves me in a bit of a quandary as to what this blog is ultimately about and what it would mean for me to continue. After all, if it is in part about “the constant journey inward” then those depths deserve to be given space here. I’m not sure it feels right, though; it’s certainly safer to stick to posts about raw milk and my latest knitting project. Safer isn’t always my cup of tea, but maybe for now it has to be.

Love has taken me by the scruff of the neck so far this year. Descartes will no longer be featured on this blog, and out of respect for him that is all I will say on the matter. Someone else may be discussed at some point, but for now I will focus, if and when I discuss it, on how I feel I have been changed by the experience of deep, profound love; love that gave me no choice but to love, that dunked me in deep water more times than I care to admit, and somehow left me more alive and grateful for it than I ever thought possible.

I recently pulled out my copy of Kahlil Gibran’s “The Prophet” and read the section about Love. I remember reading it in the past and shuddering at the thought. But now I glimpse the tip of understanding of what he meant, and I thank my lucky stars for the chance to feel it all.

“On Love” ~ Kahlil Gibran

Then said Almitra, Speak to us of Love.
And he raised his head and looked upon the people, and there fell a stillness upon them. And with a great voice he said:
When love beckons to you, follow him,
Though his ways are hard and steep.
And when his wings enfold you yield to him,
Though the sword hidden among his pinions may wound you.
And when he speaks to you believe in him,
Though his voice may shatter your dreams as the north wind lays waste the garden.

For even as love crowns you so shall he crucify you. Even as he is for your growth so is he for your pruning.
Even as he ascends to your height and caresses your tenderest branches that quiver in the sun,
So shall he descend to your roots and shake them in their clinging to the earth.
Like sheaves of corn he gathers you unto himself.
He threshes you to make you naked.
He sifts you to free you from your husks.
He grinds you to whiteness.
He kneads you until you are pliant;
And then he assigns you to his sacred fire, that you may become sacred bread for God’s sacred feast.

All these things shall love do unto you that you may know the secrets of your heart, and in that knowledge become a fragment of Life’s heart.

But if in your fear you would seek only love’s peace and love’s pleasure,
Then it is better for you that you cover your nakedness and pass out of love’s threshing-floor,
Into the seasonless world where you shall laugh, but not all of your laughter, and weep, but not all of your tears.
Love gives naught but itself and takes naught but from itself.
Love possesses not nor would it be possessed;
For love is sufficient unto love.

When you love you should not say, “God is in my heart,” but rather, “I am in the heart of God.”
And think not you can direct the course of love, for love, if it finds you worthy, directs your course.

Love has no other desire but to fulfil itself.
But if you love and must needs have desires, let these be your desires:
To melt and be like a running brook that sings its melody to the night.
To know the pain of too much tenderness.
To be wounded by your own understanding of love;
And to bleed willingly and joyfully.
To wake at dawn with a winged heart and give thanks for another day of loving;
To rest at the noon hour and meditate love’s ecstasy;
To return home at eventide with gratitude;
And then to sleep with a prayer for the beloved in your heart and a song of praise upon your lips.

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The Author

This is a site about saying yes to life - written by a multi-passionate rock star who loves to take life between her fists and kiss it full on the mouth.

"Make my boy realize that, at the end of the everlasting why, there is a yes. And a yes and a yes!"
- Mr. Emerson,
A Room With A View