No Clouds Allowed
I think that one of the most consistent things about love is how inconsistent all the intel ever gathered on it, can be. Mainly, that happens because human beings are hopeless romantics who read love stories from the middle and skip out on the beginnings and endings of the tale, all too much.
You see, somewhere in the middle of a story is where we believe that all the magic really happens, so that’s the part we love fast forwarding too. And since everyone these days is a fucking expert psychologist or psychiatrist in some field or the other, no one sticks around for the endings either; since they already know how it’s going to end, right?
There are too many variables for anyone to pinpoint a love and label the kind of love that it is. No two loves are the same because no two loves can be loved the same. And it’s not about more or less love, either. That’s a preposterous measurement for something no one has yet been able to properly define. It’s simply understanding that circumstances alone make any love incapable of being the same.
I see my cousin out in Puerto Rico volunteering his time. He’s out there for a good cause, helping the community recover from a nasty earthquake the island just experienced. He said something sad today. He said that only through our love for others and friendships we create the illusion for the moment that we’re not alone in this life.
But he has it all wrong.
We’re not alone if we’re cultivating love. And in order to cultivate love, We must stimulate love. We cannot stimulate love if we are not present.
I believe that the measure of someone’s intelligence should be taken by their ability to progress, and the speed of that progression. How fast they recover from bumps and bruises along the journey, aka, how resilient they are.
We’re not alone of we are cultivating love. If we are watering it, trimming it when needed, talking to it, answering its questions. How can anyone be alone when another’s soul relies on them?
Yin? Yang? It won’t matter. We prefer dawns and dusks And we’ll leave more love behind, So that our kin are never alone In this Or Their next lives.
“No Clouds Allowed” by: C Y R U S P A V E L
