My last
completed solo started with me in a spotlight raising a tissue to my eye in
slow motion. In time, I let it go billowing to the floor, as I fell backwards
running, the light opening up to take me on a journey that lasted for a
non-stop, high paced 20 minutes. I made that dance after one of those losses in
life that we all have to go through at some point. Sometimes the loss happens
sooner than we expect or are prepared for, but we all share in that common
experience of losing one of the closest people to us. In retrospect, there were
many gifts in that loss, gifts that could only be understood in time, gifts
that can’t be comprehended in the actual moment of losing. But, sometimes, even
these seemingly big life losses don’t prepare us for the one loss that actually
disrupts everything. The one that takes the ground underneath us and seems to
keep us falling for a period that is unfathomably long. A fall we can’t imagine
being able to recover from. But, we do. And, when it happens life can no longer
be what it was. We are changed in a way that we know we can’t go back to our
old way of being. The difference in this experience (and it may not be a life
lost, it could be a relationship ended, a career closed, a dead end met) is in
knowing that despite anything that happens in this short period we get to be on
earth, nothing can take from us our ability to love. It is untouchable. Our
capacity to be generous, kind, playful, joyful, warm, wondrous can’t be taken
by anyone or anything. It is almost superhero like in its power. It is a
profound understanding and one I wouldn’t trade any loss for.
Knowing
that all losses coming forward, of which there will be many, won’t take this
understanding from me, gives me humbled strength and courage. Everyday we have
moments of losing, of struggling, of floundering, of fumbling and of forgetting
our value. But, even if we
temporarily forget, we have the ability to recall. To recall this inner,
unshakable understanding that love resides in us and that we can choose to
handle any situation, any conversation, any interaction with kindness and
genuine care, is an amazing gift. It is the one thing that we do get to take
with us when we experience our own inevitable leaving. It is a pretty powerful
thing to own. I often wonder if it is possible to arrive at this place in
youth. Why not? If it can somehow be taught, experientially, early on, that
love is all we really have, what a world this would be! It is beyond having
good self-esteem or having good morals. It would involve learning a softness, a
tenderness, toward oneself that knows the value of self-care, of compassion, of
being able to remember what matters. I do think we can do that, at a young age,
if it is reflected around us.
And so,
on days when difficulties arise or, even simpler, in those commonplace, daily
moments when we lose inspiration, motivation, meaning, self-worth, we can say
to ourselves, “hey there, you’ve forgotten love, you’ve forgotten that no one
or thing or situation has taken it from you. Go and love. Love yourself for
your courage to feel and not run. Love the tree that manages to grow on that
city corner. Love the ornate, cast iron grating on the door on 9th
Street. Love the dog wagging its tail as it walks ahead of you, delighted to be
outside. Love the person who looks you in your eyes as you pass and
acknowledges the life in you. Love the person behind the counter who made it to
work and helps you, though you know not what struggles she may be going
through. Love because you can and that’s all there really is to do here.”
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