On Love*
I want to tell you about love—how it doesn’t know time or distance. It simply is, despite all the reasons why not. Despite all the odds and the obstacles. Love is a thing of certainty, not doubt. And it is a swirl of kindness, a swath of sunshine, a soft word and gentle hand.
Love does not flinch on your bad days. It doesn’t judge. It is not moved by outside nonsense. It is its own heartbeat, its own clock, its own compass. It is the truest, strongest thing—protector and comforter.
It’s often said that the opposite of love is hate. Others say indifference. But I might also argue cruelty. There are those who move through life like a wrecking ball, like a knife. Those who meet a moment with viciousness, instead of compassion. I will never understand people like that, and I will never be people like that.
I often run full tilt into the things and people I care about. I have no concept of doing anything halfway. Who has time for tepid? Or timid? Or lukewarm? No thank you. Give me honest joy and mess, passion and gentle madness, love and nothing short of everything. I want what I want, and I will make no apologies. I know what I bring to the table, always. I value myself.
My birthday is next month—October 13th. Friends and family keep asking what I want for my birthday. And while, yes, there’s a list of material things I would always welcome (flavored coffee from The Strange Brew in Indiana, dark chocolate/truffles from Vosges, flowers from someone who probably doesn’t read this newsletter), the list of what I really crave doesn’t come from a store.
I want time with the people I love and care about. I want to make plans and give hugs and spend time in each other’s orbit. I want quiet weekends and good wine and connection. Joy and intimacy in all its splendor. I want to stop time in a particular way—the way you do when you make memories and share laughter and hold space for each other. We are all carrying a million different things in our hearts. When we lean in, lean on each other, meet our hearts halfway, the bad things ease. The good things rise to the surface like a healing balm, like hope.
What I want for myself is not solely for myself. But things never happen in a vacuum, so I am flinging this out into the world. Because words are always a spell, in their own way. And intentions are set, steady as it goes. And what I will tell you is this: breathe, darlings. Lean in to those who care about you, who want to love you, who are reaching for you without hesitation.
It matters, darlings. You matter. Don’t ever forget that. And if a day comes where you are doubtful and filled with worry, look right here, and I will remind you. Because that’s why we have people. To lift us up and to celebrate the joys.
I don’t do superficial anything. Give me the deep stuff. The soft intimacies. The grit and the aching songs. All that’s real and all the things we tuck inside our hearts.
Until next time, darlings—may you find unexpected sunshine.
*Chekhov reference ftw
Happy birthday