Swept off my feet. Over the moon. On cloud nine. Walking on air. All wonderful expressions of falling in love, all ways that I personally have felt. But here is what comes next – all of these phrases are about being disconnected from earth … from having our feet on the ground. And for me, when I’m not rooted, I start to lose myself. Sure, I want to float … it’s all part and parcel of the bliss. But I want to remember and keep that part of myself that loves to dig her toes into the sand, or stand on a hill and feel the wind, or walk on the ground in which lies the roots of giant redwood trees. It is from the ground that I feel an essence rise up through the soles of my feet, an invisible cord that connects me and feeds me at the same time. So often in Love … or well, in the search for Love … I’ve actually participated in the losing of myself – I wanted to get carried away. Learning, trying, experimenting, life lessons, self-introspection, self-awareness, self-sufficient… it’s all exhausting. And there’s a lot of “self” in there. So its nice to fall, to let go, to concentrate on someone else for a change. It feels self-fulfilling (aha!). But the point is, rather than a play on words, that losing myself is not good. I want Love, yes – this much is abundantly clear. But not to be so lifted into the air that I forget to come back to earth. On the ground, it gets a little gritty, a little muddy, and a little dirty. We need that reality. Hell, we need all of the elements to really make it real. Fire of passion. Water of tears – both joyful and sad. Solid earth beneath us, and the ability to soar in the air. All I ask is, don’t let me forget me. Isn’t that who you loved in the first place?
[Original Post: Saturday, January 15, 2011 at 11:46am]