Life is complex. We do not have the level of control we think we do. We cannot control others’ actions nor can we control external events that occur around us. The world is not perfect. It is unpredictable, as are those who dwell within it.
There are times when we think love and faith alone cannot sustain a wounded heart or a jaded soul. It is not enough to just throw open the doors to the heart and hope for the best. We leave ourselves open to disappointment and dismay. Use our discernment wherever possible, especially if we have been walking blindly in the dark without answers. We can only act upon what is given and not what is ambivalent or ambiguous. We make our judgements on what is presented to us whenever we can and, for the most part, misunderstandings, miscommunications and all they entail can be avoided. Such meaningful connections have been lost to such wanderings in the dark. We are sure to turn on the light and see the truth of the matter before making decisions of the heart and soul. Such things as love and faith are sacred and profound, and are as precious and fragile as as spun glass.
No, love cannot be given freely in that way. Faith cannot be blind to all. In the chaos of this maelstrom we call Life it can become lost, damaged, broken, misunderstood, misrepresented, taken for something it is not, even feared. We cannot give those things away freely. To do so is madness.
There are times when love does not conquer all and our faith fails us. It is then we must look to ourselves, and our Higher Selves within, and see what we truly value, what deserves our time, love and attention. And our faith. To give it away blindly makes it valueless and ceases to have any meaning. Love becomes but a word we say because we feel we have to, not because we truly mean it. It becomes lost and without purpose. And that is when love fails and does not conquer all, nor does it heal the wounds of past hurts, or brings souls together in truth and light. Too many times the word is spoken and too many times the true meaning is lost like brittle leaves in an autumn gale.
The lips may say the word but only the heart truly means it, and the heart can say it in a thousand silent ways. It is then, and only then, faith and love can heal the wounds of the heart like they never were, can quieten and soothe the horrors of the past so they are merely echoes in the stillness of night. It is then the tears will dry on the cheeks of the broken, the lonely and the dispossessed. It reaches out and touches the hearts of another, and another and another, and so it goes on, and is passed on from one to the next to the next…
The heart says it in a thousand silent ways.
It has no need of words. Sometimes love can fail, but sometimes it does not. Sometimes it reaches in and touches you in the space where you think nothing and no-one can reach; the dark, forgotten space left abandoned by hurt and pain even when you don’t want it to. It touches that space like a mother touching her child for the first time and All That Is is suspended there in that place you thought long abandoned. It may not be for any reason at all, but the power of that touch is like the sun setting and rising in your soul. The Mountain and the Fire inside it. The colours of the exploding supernova in your chest that you feel could light up the entire world and beyond. The ebbing and flowing of the tides, coming and going, in and out, rising and falling, day in, day out, burning like a Midsummer day one moment then descending to the warm glow of winter embers the next, all the while lighting up the darkest recesses of your being whether you ask it to or no. You have no choice. They say you don’t choose who you fall in love with. I say you have no choice but to love regardless.
Yes, sometimes love fails, but it is only what we perceive to be its failure. Love is just what IS. It does not do what we want it to do. It is not a beast of burden to be directed to plough a field, or pull a cart. Sometimes we don’t want it because it hurts. But is it the love that hurts or are we hurt because life has dealt us an uneven hand? We feel love because it is in us to do so. We hurt because we do not, or cannot give it to others no matter how much we desire it, or it is not received in the way we want it to. The love remains untouched, untainted, unbroken by the whims and affairs of Man. It is the wants and needs of the Ego that hurt and tear at your soul. The love itself remains unchanged.
The heart says it in a thousand silent ways.
The love that is silent lets go, flows uninhibited like a meandering mountain river down to a vast and sleepy ocean. It is quiet and reflective. It knows when to let fly and give freedom without prejudice. But this a love that can only be known in the silence, after the storm. After the Fall of the Old Life when the skylark has returned to the sky after the hurricane has passed overhead. It is the knowledge that it is not love that hurts – the hurt we do to ourselves by holding onto things that can never be, holding on to old thoughts and feelings that do nought but remind us of our shortcomings, comparing ourselves to others, feeling shame and guilt for past actions, regretting past decisions, words said or left unsaid. In this space, where love touches us deeply, like the Hand of God, none of it matters anymore.
True love, silent love, does not come from others. It just IS. We just pass it from one to another, if we are lucky enough to do so. Treasure it, like it is spun glass, for it is something that, if passed on from that space where the sun rises and sets, where the winter embers glow, then it truly does have the power to heal ALL wounds, even the ones you never believed would heal. It just takes a little faith.
Yours in Love and Light