Somewhere there is a room so thick full of love that you can't see anything else. The pain, the judgments, the confusion sit blind like boats in a harbor overcome by fog.
I'm trying to find a way to control the aperture that the love flows through in my life. I want to twist it until it breaks off. It's like we've got all 10 fingers and all 10 toes stuck in the levy as the flood water stampedes around us, extending us prone to the current, flotsam that thinks it can control the tides... but yet still we hold on.
That there are limits to our love is the lie our Darwin brains trick us into believing to excuse our selfishness. To protect ourselves.
Twist. twist. twissssssst... SNAP.
I believe in the revolution. Last night Avery was saying how he thinks there's going to be another Snowden-type leak that kicks the stakes from underneath the big house. When all is exposed there's no place to hide from the truth. I hope he's right. America is a concept long past its half life---it's not about countries anymore. It's not about geography or race or class or religion.
It's about love, about shifting the balance from self-preservation to love propagation.
What I have learned the last few years is that the love has to burn from the inside out. One of the most important things Logan ever told me was to pull my shoulders back and let the light shine through me. I remember when I used to think I was unlovable---and to a certain degree I was. I had some very real shit I had to confront, accept, understand, grow through, and forgive myself for. I was angry. I was confrontational. I didn't communicate well. I would be so full and bubbling with emotion that it would sweep me to another place as another person. They were all symptoms of the same disease, the self-mutilation that is a lack of self love.
It took me a long time. I hurt people along the way. I shredded myself. I broke myself down to pieces so tiny I thought they might flake away like incense dust.
But goddamn was it worth it.
I can be the leader I want to be now. I can be the boyfriend and maybe husband I want to be. I poured so much love into Katherine, Hannah, Logan, the other amazing and beautiful souls that graced my life with their presence, but as long as there was a hole in my bucket it was impossible. Not a chance.
There's something balanced and almost perfect about the way we can only grow through the breakdowns. What a gift, the miseries---it's like the way the park service will sometimes burn the brush so that the big trees can grow stronger.
Somewhere there is an elementary school that teaches our children to choose meaningful lives. Somewhere the revolution is decades farther along than we've been led to believe.
I texted Logan to apologize for her having to be there through the last years of me as a boy, before I learned how to love myself. She deserved better---though in some ways I loved her the way she deserved. I loved her more wholly and maturely than I knew I was capable of. My body served no greater purpose than to connect with hers, to unlock the Godly lustful beasts inside us, the angels of sin we become when we're making love. I've never known a woman so warm, so beautiful, so graceful, so funny and charming and everything everything everything----the shadow she cast over every other woman since I met her has been a blanket of clouds that cut off a sky of burning suns. I'll never know a love like hers again; I'm not sure how that story ends just yet.
But I have to open the aperture. I have to let go of attachments, hold onto the love, and be ready to receive the love that comes my way. Fill every room with it. Shoulders back----ha, I just got the reference---like a freaking Care Bear.
after Passion Pit at The NorVa then coming home to see my brother Ronnie had his baby, 11/3/13