Love is not enough.

Have you felt it? Those first few weeks. The passion, anticipation. Natural selection. You think, " We couldn't help it, it just happened..." Rationalisations of hasty decisions about physical intimacy, blind mutual admiration. Glossing over any red flags that may have come up, or ignoring reality entirely due to pheromone intoxication. It's all very lovely.

What is it? Is it a noun or a verb? Love.

Do the clouds not part and wars not get fought over this emotion? This sensation. Living entity?

When the dust settles and familiarity sets in, is it enough?

It is a massive massive practice. A spiritual sojourn. To entirely and wholly accept with grace another person. Or people for that matter. To relax and trust. To be open to change. To allow for expansion and contraction without judgement or interference. To remain teachable and malleable to this interdependent coexistence bringing you closer and yet closer to your own true self.

Isn't that what we are all trying to do here? Get back to the garden? Back to eden where we began. Our TRUE individual selves. Our primal spirit. What we take with us when we die.

It isn't about stuff. Gold sparkling treasures or even words or promises, vows.

It lives in the vast dimension of silent language. The moment of connection immediately after birth between mother and child. The magic spark. The patient awareness of oneself in any given moment. One light facing another light, just as it is, like a hand blown glass prism. Flecks of color and light expressing character and quality in an imperfect form reflected upon itself revealing even more true and brilliant flecks of color, re-birthing, growing. Ascending. We move and lean together like this. Like long blades of sweet-grass. Our fragrant essence catapulting outward ever forward toward life.

Are we truly to believe that Love lives within an idea? Inside of a tradition or concept? Inside of boundaries or borders? All of those things seem to fall away in the end. Do those things feed the life form of love or starve it? Cultivation of spirit and compassion dwell within the willingness to swim against the stream. To see past borders and boundaries. To envision a life apart. A story both newborn and ancient. Mind free of restrictions and lists. Mind free of mind will guide us back to the place that feels home.

After a busy day in the matrix of reality and money, job and security, schedules and school, house and home responsibilities, tired body parts, temptation to go numb, self inflicted dependencies, domestic trifles. Can we look away from the swelling tide of mediocrity and into the mystic. Can we return to the garden for just a moment. Can our hearts hold onto the gaze of that dearest one in front of us even if she is now tired and bitter, distracted or selfish? Can we return our own gaze in the mirror with kindness, friendliness? Can there be no time for such new age concepts?

When we are able to transcend pain and suffering into ascension and joy, when we are willing to give ourselves over to life's elegant flow, when we are ready to surrender. Love will be enough.

Until then, I will tend my gardens. I will stop my busy little mind long enough to ask myself what my intention is? Why do I pursue the spiritual practices I do and then I will LISTEN. I will listen to me. I will listen to you. I will hear. I will wait. I will swim against the stream and watch for signs of encouragement on the path with heart that I now choose completely. I will cultivate the spark of faith within me that speaks with unquestionable benevolence and sincerity that this is the way, right here and now, that everything is just as it should be, every tear, every failure, every smile, every sunset, just as it was always meant to be and will never be again. A fragile and fleeting treasure of incomparable value. This moment. I will stay. I will not turn my back and run away. I will face the courage within me and match it. I will set my fears on fire and hold your hand if you feel frightened. In this way I will know true love.