What is Love to you?
Love is taking a bite of that gorgeous cinnamon cake in the middle of the night without putting on the light and discovering that you accidentally ate veggie pie and then liking it anyway.
Love is an odd mixture of hits and misses. Preferably more hits than misses.
Love is soaring height and steep falls all put together.
Love is following a road that seems right.
Love is liking the other - warts and all.
Love is driving a car with two steering wheels and trying to stay on the road.
Love is forgiveness and kindness.
Love is respecting. Respecting - space, individuality, religion, sexuality.
Love is trust.
Love is also hope while the future unfolds.
Love is fear of loss.
Love is selfish.
........The rest is yet to reveal itself to me!
My blog is just a bundle of random thoughts and says very clearly how I use my head or heart and on rare occasions..both.....
Thursday, February 25, 2010
What A Wonderful Life!
I think its never too early to talk about childhood. Especially if its your own.
All I remember from mine is lots of green grass, stones and boulders of all shapes and textures, weird smells from the middle pages of new books, erasers with dark edges, texture of wet mud, skinned knees (lots of them), the shape of my mother's palm and the sound it made when it touched my cheek (at either end), my English teacher who never smiled, spellings and meanings of words that I didn't like, looking up your latest crush's phone numbers in the directory, looking at grown ups with awe, lots and lots of open sky, lots of idle time, listening to crickets in the garden at night.
Had I known, I would've torn and framed grass spots from my clothes. Captured the sound of my mothers slap in a box and kept it on my table. Tucked away all the speacial treats that were made in the kitchen when we were studying very hard.
Time passes slowly every time I get a hug from my loved ones. In fact it seems to stop for just a moment for me to put it in a box and bury it deep in my heart for the inevitable winter that will arrive.
The balance of life is beautiful. It constantly changes things. When your journey makes you leave a stop and move on its only because another beautiful town is waiting for you.
S says some day long into the future, we will stop and look back at these days and say - what a wonderful life!
Amen!
All I remember from mine is lots of green grass, stones and boulders of all shapes and textures, weird smells from the middle pages of new books, erasers with dark edges, texture of wet mud, skinned knees (lots of them), the shape of my mother's palm and the sound it made when it touched my cheek (at either end), my English teacher who never smiled, spellings and meanings of words that I didn't like, looking up your latest crush's phone numbers in the directory, looking at grown ups with awe, lots and lots of open sky, lots of idle time, listening to crickets in the garden at night.
Had I known, I would've torn and framed grass spots from my clothes. Captured the sound of my mothers slap in a box and kept it on my table. Tucked away all the speacial treats that were made in the kitchen when we were studying very hard.
Time passes slowly every time I get a hug from my loved ones. In fact it seems to stop for just a moment for me to put it in a box and bury it deep in my heart for the inevitable winter that will arrive.
The balance of life is beautiful. It constantly changes things. When your journey makes you leave a stop and move on its only because another beautiful town is waiting for you.
S says some day long into the future, we will stop and look back at these days and say - what a wonderful life!
Amen!
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