It’s a sunny day, a beautiful Saturday. I sleep in and think I will make it to a late morning yoga class. But something holds me back. I read a little, sipping on green tea, nibbling on macarons. I sit down to write, finally, and let my fingers type what they will. A release was needed, of words and emotions. Some you can read and some you can’t.
It makes me sad to know that people we love so dearly are unable to return that.
There are times when I slip into anger against them. But that is when I forget that the anger is, in fact, because I love them and am not selfless enough to expect nothing back.
Our souls know how to love and they love unconditionally. So when my Soul’s love trickles out of me anyway, going out to people I don’t think deserve it, people I don’t want to give it to, it makes me angry and confused. I cannot just accept it. Instead, I wonder why. And then, finding no reason for it—because I don’t understand my Soul and its ways, I am not wise enough for that—I lash out…at those people, at myself. Because I think my heart is doing things I don’t want it to. But, really, the heart is listening to the Soul and doing its bidding, instead of mine. For what am I but flesh and bones, and it is the Soul that is all-knowing, all-loving.