“I Love.”
It’s an affirmation I can live with over and over, day in and day out, from one lifetime to another, without ever getting tired of saying it.
It is in the giving of love that I’m twice blessed. I got so much of it when I come into your presence that I can’t keep it in and I must share or I know that I could die. And so, I tell you that “I Love You,” and hope that you never stop listening to me. Even if you blush and say that I’m only kidding and scold me, saying “Stop that, Michael. Quit playing around.”
You don’t understand. But when I offer my love, I get nourished from you. Unless, you slap me in the face, which I haven’t experienced through countless times of kneeling before you and other beings like you. You “give” me your presence, your smile, your attention even if for that moment that a complete stranger – or someone you just met a week earlier – approaches, looks deep into your eyes and mouths the three syllable statement: “ I . . . love . . . you!”
Your mind needs but a moment to take it in. Is he crazy? Is he coming on to me? What is he really after? If I’m successful in reaching that innocent child within, you discard all of those questions and “be loved.”
“I love” is the mantra I say in the early morning, asserting that I am alive and can feel kindness and compassion for others. “I love” is also a statement of who I am today and who I hope to be tomorrow, God and the Fates be willing.
In a way, I am mimicking the words spoken to Moses at the burning bush. The Creator said “I Am.” That’s all the desert-nomad needed to hear to understand the purpose and meaning of life. I can only get meaning and purpose in my life by loving others, by serving them, by offering my meager self to you.
Like a bee, I try to pollinate while also sipping the nectar you offer in opening yourself to me just like the proverbial flower. Don’t turn me away. Let me see and touch those parts that might still need healing. The torn and shattered dreams you held so close to only to see them end up washing away with the next heavy rainfall.
Take my love. It really isn’t mine to give, but yours to awaken to, and always know is present once you learn to “be still” Be still and know that I Am. Be still and whisper I Love. God, it feels so good to be with you now as you embrace your divinity.
“. . . I am mimicking the words spoken to Moses at the burning bush. The Creator said “I Am . . .”
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Thank God that I AM, I KNOW hasn’t read the article on Shekinah. Then she would know exactly where all of this love stuff comes from and eventually goes to . . .
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If you’re going to the Shamanic thing tomorrow night, can I have a ride with you? Angie
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