Love Is Never Lost

"Not until we are lost do we begin to understand ourselves." (Henry David Thoreau)

Have you ever gotten lost?  It happens to me more than I'd probably like to admit!

• I can get lost in a small parking lot, trying to remember where my car is (I try to disguise it by telling my wife, "We're on a scenic tour" - don't think I've fooled her yet!).  
• I can get lost in enjoying a simple pleasure, like reading the newspaper - and forget that I have garlic bread cooking in the oven - only to be reminded by the wisps of smoke curling out of the kitchen.
• I can get lost in a thought...a memory...a wish... a regret.

And a funny thought just struck me.  In each of these cases when I've wound up lost, I've always thought at the beginning that I knew exactly "where I was" and "where I was headed".  So how did I get lost and wind up having to struggle, one way or another, with trying to "find myself" again?

I ask these questions because I've felt "lost" for awhile from this forum; from my blog.  I haven't written in it for 6 months - the longest dry spell in the 4 years since I began it.  And truth be told, I haven't felt even the slightest desire to do so.  Been completely empty.  Desert dry.  Cold and uninspired.  Scared to even dare to look at a blank page.  I'd read past entries that I had written and wonder "Who wrote that? It couldn't be me!  There's not an ounce of that creativity in me.  I've lost it."

I had begun writing this blog saying I loved doing it.  Where had the love gone?  How could I have lost it?  How could it have left me, just like that?

Yet, here I find myself - sitting at the computer - struggling to write again, in much the same manner that a newborn deer struggles to stand for the first time - legs akimbo, knees a-wobbly - but innocently determined.  And as I tap away, I can feel something gently tap my heart  and whisper what I know is the truth.

A real love never leaves.  A real love can never be lost.  It can be forgotten for a time.  It may seem as if it's been supplanted by other objects and "loves".  But a real love will always wait patiently for my return - and won't admonish me when I sheepishly crawl back, "Where were you???"  

Because a real love simply wants to give itself - without expecting anything in return - knowing that it grows greater through its willingness to do so.

"On a cloudy night when nothing seems above, still, there is love. Always love. For something, for someone. It's never done. Never." (Jeb Dickerson)

Real love is timeless.  It is never "done" with me.  But it also will never force itself on me.  I must always be willing to step towards it.  I must be willing to sacrifice something for it. I must be as willing to sit and wait in the emptiness for it, as it is willing to wait for me.

So, I'm happy sitting here on a sunny Sunday afternoon, feeling a forgotten love rekindled.  I smile and shake my head when I realize that the only thing keeping me from what I loved, was "Me".  Silly!

"If grass can grow through cement, love can find you at every time in your life." (Cher)

The first step back towards what we love usually requires just one thing:  Starting over. And starting over.  And starting over again.

And so I shall.

I'm looking forward to seeing what new Pearls I stumble across as my journey continues again.