I was getting ready for my day being kept company by India Arie on “random shuffle.” A song I rarely hear in sequential mode came on. I’d forgotten about it. It had not forgotten about me.
I am ready for love
Why are you hiding from me
I’d quickly give my freedom
To be held in your captivityLately I’ve been thinking
Maybe you’re not ready for me…I am ready for love
Here with an offering of
My voice
My eyes
My soul
My mindTell me what is enough
To prove I am ready for loveI am ready
It’s a tough space: ready for love with love not complying; no eligible, eager, impressive candidates lining up outside my door. It’s not like I wouldn’t recognize it if it did come knocking. I do know what love feels like, looks like, offers, and even (maybe especially) what it costs. I’ve definitely known it – amazing, deep, incredible, life-giving, passionate, and then some.
But as I listened to those lyrics I realized today’s truth: I’m tired of not knowing it in the present. I am ready for love.
What does a woman do when she finds herself in this place? OK. Bring it home, Ronna: What do I do? Well, it’s not like I don’t have options:
- Dull my senses with oh-so-familiar dissociation techniques: (too much) wine, (too much) TV, (too much) work, (too much) food. Tempting, but no.
- Chase after facsimiles: impressions of the real thing that really aren’t, but could be if I just stayed with them long enough to fix them. Not at all tempting. No.
- Shut down my desire; to tell myself that what I want is unreasonable to expect, that I need to settle, that I’m not all that, worth being chosen, cherished, adored, respected, and seen as the most amazing female to walk the face of the planet. Hell, no!
- Have faith. Yes. But always easier said than done.
This afternoon, my friend and amazing blogging/writing inspiration Kelly Diels sent me an email with a quote she said made her think of me. Did she know how much I needed the words, her kindness, her love? (Apparently stating my intent as “ready for love” into the universe needs to be focused directly on the male species. No slam on your love, Kelly…I’m just sayin’.)
Do you know how…wanting lets your eyes pierce space? How a resolve to act can traverse this atmosphere as quick as light?….Despite the threat of fire and our fear of the flames, we burst out through the roofs of our houses. Desire is a force inside us. Our mouths drop open in the rushing air. Our bodies float among stars. And we laugh in ecstasy to know the air has wishes…..”Yes,” we call, full of ourselves and delight, “Yes,” we sing, “We fly through the night.
(Susan Griffins)
My desire is intact and in full force. I have faith in its (and my) beauty, power, and resounding, enduring, deafening “yes.” Despite the fear of flames and my (recent) history of getting burned, I am, indeed, ready for love.
Like a moth to the flame.
Go ahead: light the match.
(And listen to the song if you haven’t already.)
{ 15 comments… read them below or add one }
YYYEEEESSSSS!
Sharon Eden´s last blog ..Do Less And Be More
Mmmm. Thank you, Sharon.
As usual, am left with eyes brimming with tears and heart aching with identification.
I am thinking of Ovid, who said, “Ah, I have asked for too much, I plainly see.”
And the answer is NO. It is not too much to ask for. NO. You remind me of that here. Thank you.
Lindsey´s last blog ..A Letter to Gracie
A woman’s curse: The belief that “I am too much.” A lie from the pit of hell. One that I sometimes still fall prey to. Thanks, Lindsey.
And I thought that ‘I am too much’ was just me. No consolation in knowing it’s in the collective but a hot inclusion which touches and inflames me. How dare they? HOW DARE I DO THAT TO MYSELF! Will watch that ‘shtick’ of mine like an acient Chinese Empress with all-seeing eyes and oh so long finger nails to hook it out and fling it back into that ‘pit of hell’ where it most truly belongs
Appreciations to both of you, Lindsey & Ronna.
Sharon Eden´s last blog ..Do Less And Be More
Your insight about Kelly at the end is very key. I don’t know what she wrote, but it seems like it had something to do with romantic/sexual love… either that or you simply felt the orientation perhaps didn’t fit for you. This little detail here is extremely important, especially for those who feel love-starved.
I have a couple of women around me who are just dying for romantic love… to be desired, to be bonded, to be in a relationship, to give themselves away to a life partner and never look back. What they lose sight of is that this is only one kind of love. There are many other kinds of love, and if you open yourself up to receiving them all, desire as you may desire for one kind of love, you will not feel starved.
There was a coworker of mine some time ago, a good friend, who happened to have a spare $100 bill from a refund she had just found out she was entitled to. She knew my money was thin. She handed me the bill. Yes, I did ask her multiple times if she really wanted to do that… but she was showing me love. Was I ready for love? I was. I took the bill.
My roommate who, when I was about to fall for a trick that was being played on me by some folks I used to have ties to, stood up to my gullibility and told me that I was getting suckered, straight up. That was love. At first I resisted, because I couldn’t bear to think I was getting suckered. But she persisted in challenging me, even as I got really angry. And then, I realized… I was ready for love. I took her advice and saved over $2,000.
Remember, real love, when you feel it, will be a two-way thing. It is said that if you want to be loved, you should go love somebody.
What about the child who looks in your eyes without a hint of fear, fully trusting you, and content with your presence? I had that a couple of months ago, a patient at the medical facility I work at, and it still brings tears to my eyes to think about it. She was ready for love, and ready for my love, and had no problem showing that to me the way she looked at me. It touched me down to the marrow in my bones.
Another person where I worked had relatives in Haiti who were affected by the earthquake. I saw her on the phone with a despondent look on her face and just hugged her for a minute. The way she hugged me back, I know she was ready for my love.
We become afraid of love because we shoehorn our concept of love into narrow ditches that rob love of its revolutionary breadth and power. If we realized that real love doesn’t come with strings attached–you may make those strings with somebody that you love as part of the process, but the love itself is free of all that–we could open ourselves up to being so much more ready for love.
And thus, without any fear, without any hesitation or second thoughts, and without any strings attached, I want to say, from the bottom of my heart: I love you, Ronna Detrick. I think you’re awesome.
Positive Mitch´s last blog ..Don’t be ashamed to cry
Thanks for all this thought, all these ways of understanding and experiencing love. Amazing and beautiful stuff. I’m trackin’ with you – and I think you’re awesome too!
I’d love to be ready for love, but i’m so thoroughly lost right now I am burned. I am coiled, and i fear of the damage i might do if i extend myself fully, if i am unleashed upon the world. I am scared of being vunerable, i am scared of being hurt, in face of the irony of my own mental self harm. Maybe love is knocking at my door, maybe i’m not recognising it. I’m so unsure about what love should feel like for me, i’m so unsure about my own meager life experience, i feel love ought to be more than what i’ve experienced but it feels like so long ago i can’t genuinely recall what i’ve felt in the past.
I am terrified of life. Again ironically i think the intensity of my fear of life is the only thing that really makes me feel alive because its so strong.
Paddy´s last blog ..Star cursed lovers
So painful…and real, Paddy. Thanks for sharing it, for acknowledging that there’s a big difference between “saying” we’re ready for love and that actually being true. And…sometimes it’s only through diving in (and sometimes coming close to drowning) that we learn how to swim, how to float, and how to keep breathing. All this love stuff is ultimately all there is – and – it’s the hardest thing we ever do.
i’m going diving again in april for my birthday. coach surf scotland to greece and do a bungee jump in corinth. knowing me though i’ll be spending plenty time in the rapids between now and then!
Paddy´s last blog ..Star cursed lovers
Ronna, your piece is beautiful and brave, as usual.
I’m working on a piece that is soooooo in keeping with this theme. About “ready” and “moth to flame” and about asking “do you love me?” to the most mundane of things (wine, TV, food, unavailable men, boring jobs, stuff). Because if it can’t love me back, I’m not putting my love there.
I’m also not focussing my love on one person. I’m spreading it everywhere and offering my love to all the wondrous lights in my life. Like you.
Love is extravagant, boring, and a really good compass.
PS I steered you wrong. The poet is Susan Griffins, not Griffiths.
xoxoxo
Right on. Well said!
Positive Mitch´s last blog ..Don’t be ashamed to cry
Thanks, Kelly. ‘Can’t wait to read the new piece. It will be beautiful and brave, as usual. And…I love the idea of not focusing love on just one person. Though being able to do so feels like such a gift, in the meantime (and before/after) it’s the experience of broad-based, distributed, expansive, even (and maybe especially) undefined love that enhances all else. ‘With ya!
Hi Ronna
Loved your piece and love the subsequent dialogue. You inspired me to consider my own experience in this regard and because it was going to be a tad long for your comments section, it became a blog in its own right! The subject is clearly one which is dear to many women’s hearts
Anyway, here it is: http://blog.dakinigrace.com/
Hope you enjoy it.
With love
Sam x
Oooh. Can’t wait to read it, Sam. Thanks!
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