I wonder sometimes why we can’t just say what we feel, why we have to edit and tone down and just plain water things to the point that the original thought is lost even in the microscopic view. We are so careful with how we say things, or don’t say things to people. We will alter it to sound not quite like what we want to say in order to be thought of a nicer than the words we had in our minds at first thought might be taken. And then what does it grant us? No reprieves here, just a putting off of the inevitable.
Sometimes those things, those words, that hover just out of hearing are the ones that truly need to be said. It is the tone we use that might make them more harsh than what is intended. When we add compassion to the words, when we see that the words might be coming from the pain we are feeling inside because we are not honoring our self, then we can speak.
For when we speak in the language of love we can truly get through to the others heart. Then they can hear without over reacting themselves. Not inflicting pain from our own pain is a move into the right place, the place where love and peace and wisdom dwells in a meadow of pure beauty. For “love is truly patient and kind, it is not jealous or conceited or proud, it is not ill-mannered or selfish or irritable, love does not keep a record of wrongs, love is not happy with evil but is happy with truth. Love never gives up, and its faith, hope and patience never fail. Love is eternal.” (I Corinthians, chapter 13, verse 4-8)
Using St. Paul’s words as a rudder in this life, as a directional beam in the relationship sea, it is in love the words pour forth. With compassion, with truth—ah what a hard thing truth can be. But as the great Paul tells us love is happy with the truth. Truth of actual things of life. Some people come into our lives to stay forever, some people only for a brief moment, some for a time for the two of us to learn from each other. Some people are there to teach us that love is not contained in a set of human rules; love lives in the whole universe free and floating and wild as a gale and gentle as a soft whiff of the first spring warmth.
It is so true that each person, each relationship has its own truth, its own particle of the spectrum of love. I am a dogged believer that everyone on this earth has another out there somewhere. That those two people, once the universe’s serendipity is allowed to bring them into the same sphere, will make Romeo and Juliette look like inept teenage lovers. For to me, love really does make the universe keep turning.