When We Talk of Love...

Love Is Not Cancelled

If going through a break up, divorce, or the death of a partner, questions abound. “Where does love go?” we might ponder, and “Was it even real?” we could ask while tossing and turning throughout the night. Gone are the frequent calls, texts, orgasms, kisses, and “hey you”s, along with the shared meals and interest in each other’s lives.

So where does love go when it’s finished and/or changing form? And why is this never really talked about?

All of us have seen the cartoons of cupid pulling back his bow and aiming it at a target. In an ideal situation, cupid sends two arrows at two individuals who become objects of affection for each other. But for how long do they stay in tandem? And why is the energy going outward when it’s really our own love emanating from us that creates the initial connection?

Let’s think about this for a minute. What would happen if we could give and receive love without our life force emptying out onto someone else? Could we stay grounded as a vessel of our own love that bumps up against someone else’s? Is it that even possible or does love require us to step aside from own self centered experience in order to care for someone else? Where is the balance?

Despite all the love songs, poetry, and dramas created over centuries of artistic expression, we tend to negate the deep negotiations of self and other when in love. The Me. You. And We. (Although I have to say the current Apple+ tv series, “Shrinking” does a nice job exploring the grief of a recent widow).

Ideally, love should lead us back to our core, giving us more of ourselves; not less. It should build us up rather than chip the self away. Even in loss, there should be gain.

So it might be helpful to consider that we all come from a Source that is love. If two human beings’ lives happen to collide, that is a beautiful thing. But that collision does not suck away our essence when the connection ends in this physical dimension. The love that is each and every one of us still prevails. As does the imprint of our connections with others.

Love is not cancelled. And neither are you.

When We Talk of Love...


“Calm down!” my tennis coach chastised me this morning. “You’re moving all over the place. Slow down and breathe when you hit the ball.”

I sighed. How many times in my life have I been told to slow down and breathe?

“Your instincts are great,” he continued in reassurance, “because you’re so athletic. But you’re a spaz case.  Tennis is about strategy and control. I want you to harness that energy. Trust the mechanics.”

He tossed me another ball and I relaxed my grip. Watching the ball come to me, I exhaled as I made contact, whacking it solid in the strike zone with remarkable ease and power. “See?” my coach said like a proud parent to his child. “I get you because you’re just like me. I had to learn how to leverage my energy.”

Just like him? The first day I took his clinic he talked and moved through drills so fast my head was spinning in an effort to keep track. He had so much energy! But he’s also a GREAT tennis teacher. Because he slows down when it matters. When you need something explained. And when you need to do things right.

His summation of me is correct. I’m not a calm person. People think I am because I meditate and have a soft gentle voice. Yet there is a frenetic intensity to my being that often needs to be tamed like a wild horse.

Even a powerful serve does not need to be muscled. It’s knowing where you want the ball to go and how to execute.

So every week I line up at the base line with my peers, as we listen to our guru teach us that less is more.