Love, a horrible thing

Soul & me at Dome Rock, Sequoia, CA. May 2020

Love is a scary thing.

Don’t do it.

The risk is too big.

The fall too hard.

Love is a horrible thing.

It makes you do weird things.

Crazy things.

Stupid things.

It makes you become someone new.

You stop knowing who you are.

Sometimes people don’t recognize you anymore.

Love is a terrible thing.

You forget about things you realize never mattered.

Don’t do it.

The cold hard walls of restriction, rules, not-to-do’s go out the window,

and then what will you do?

How will you know what to do?

Who you are?

Love is a cruel thing.

It strips you down to your bones,

your very cells.

Until you are humming with exhilaration and capless energy.

Until you are flying high…

and then who knows, from how high you will fall?

Love is a reckless thing.

You lose sight of all the things you thought made up your life.

You lose your grounding.

You lose your understanding.

How will you survive?

You don’t know what’s ahead,

and even more reckless,

what’s within.

Are you willing to go there?

Don’t do it.

It’s not worth it.

It’s not worth the thrill,

the momentary happiness,

the over-indulgence.

Don’t do it.

You’ll make a fool of yourself,

put your heart on a stage,

for everyone to see,

an embarrassing sight.

You will bleed shamefully,

and you will cower away,

tail tucked between your legs.

You will vow never to love again.

So why even try once?

Love is a dangerous thing.

It could ruin you for life.

You may never recover.

You may never stand again.

You may never be yourself again.



What is this shameless bullshit being spewed?

If living under a rock is your way of being, it might be a good thing to never be yourself again.

If living in the shadows is your home, it might be a good thing to burn it down.

If being afraid of being a fool is your lifeline, you don’t even need to be alive.

There’s plenty more to do with that breath in your lungs.

Yes, that one,

and that one,

and this one too.

What’s wrong with a little scare?

What’s wrong with losing the ground you’ve walked?

You’ve already walked it once.

It’s not asking you to come back around.

What’s wrong with losing yourself a little?

Or a lot?

What’s wrong with getting lost?

Are you content swimming in the same bowl,

breathing recycled air,

dreaming recycled dreams?

What’s wrong with a little terror and horror?

The fear of not knowing if you’ll land on your feet –

admit it,

you’ve never felt more alive.

The adrenaline rushing through your veins,

the very cells that make up you,

humming and zinging with purpose and intention.

You are foolish to think you are incapable of carrying and experiencing

what is already vested in you.

Don’t you hear?

The desire you feel is calling you,

calling you in,

calling you home.

Don’t you know?

You are made of the universe,

the universe is made of you.

You are the dust of God,

breathed into by Love itself.

You foolish thing,

rejecting what you think you do not know,

unknowingly abandoning your true nature,

your worth,

your strength.

You’ve forgotten who you are,

gotten yourself in this horrendous mess.

Thinking your hiding,



withholding is saving you from pain,


a low place.

Meanwhile, Love is laughing.

Laughing at your strange thoughts.

Chuckling at your silly ways.

Love is laughing at your unknowing.

You think you know,

and in that,

you have no idea.

That the very essence of your inclinations,

your desires,

your hopes,

your want to be loved,

to love,

is lined in the plush abundance that is Love.

That the very fear that grips you is really your refusal to accept your birthright.

What a horrible thing, isn’t it?


Staying so far away,



shimmying its way into bliss,

while you remain white-knuckled,


hanging onto your ragged security blanket of ‘reality’.

Love knows that you know.

Love knows.

You know.

You know what your heart wants.

Your heart has never stopped beating its desires.

Because your heart knows,

and you know.

You want, because it’s yours.

You desire, because it’s yours.

You yearn, because you think it’s not.

Ease into it.

No leaping off a cliff – yet.

Just breathe.

Breathe into that space,

the frozeness,

into your white white knuckles,

hanging onto dear life,

hanging on the remnants of the myths of Love.

Let Love be real,

let Love run its course,

let Love have its way.

Leading you into the unknown.

Love is gentle.

Love is patient.

Love is kind.

Love is joy.

Love is generosity.

Love is compassion.

You need not bring your arsenal, your history.

There are no wars where Love goes,

no games to maneuver,

no crypts to navigate.

Let your heart pave the way.

Let your heart answer Love’s calling.

You will be answering your own.

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Walking my journey, evolving endlessly into the Me I came to Be.

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