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What is the Path to Love?

The path of love is never simple.


Nor is it straight or narrow.


The path may be covered with vines and branches that get in the way, often choking you.


The path is long and winding; what you push through is up to you.


The path to love feels broken-hearted as we witness violence and hatred that seem limitless.


How do we walk and live alongside the weariness, the unfixable, the destruction of hope?


We move through the days, stepping gingerly to avoid bombs, real and imagined, peering out from behind blind spots that protect us momentarily.


Babies are still being born.


Weddings are being celebrated.


Halloween costumes purchased.


I sit and close my eyes and find a moment’s peace in the rhythm of my breath; the connection to my inner life; a place of safety.


And yet, the path itself is dangerous; safety illusive.


I am angry. I am terrified.


Weariness has become my companion on the path.


I make a pizza with my granddaughter and we laugh at the flour all over the floor and our noses; we giggle and fall asleep under the coziest blanket we can find.


Safe for a moment.


But are we?


What does she need to know about this world, this perilous path?


What about her children?


What really is the path to love?


It is the being on the path that matters; the washing of the dishes, the folding of the laundry; the long talks with my daughter in her dorm room when she feels lonely;


It is the not asking questions of my older daughter; letting her discover and fall if she must.


It is the aching of not seeing my boys; praying for life to spare them an over abundance of heartache.


It is the careful crafting of texts to sensitive friends; not wanting to offend in any way.


It is the biting of one’s tongue when my love says something less tender than I need in the moment; remembering the depth of his love;


The path of love is opening my heart; allowing the pain of what’s happening in the world to arise and be there.


It is the sitting on the bench where my father always sat and feeling him near me; comforting and wise.


It is letting myself off the hook when I am less productive than I want to be; my weariness showing.

The path to love is slowing down; holding a pen and allowing words to form on a page emanating from a place within me that wants to be known and understood, that craves honesty and beauty.


We are on the path to love when we open ourselves up and feel the waves of vulnerability; the coolness of being exposed; when we look inwardly for guidance and then reveal who we are with gestures, thoughts, words and action.


I am on the path to love when the magnitude of grief is undeniably just more love.


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