There are some qualities we possess that are within our control. Things about our behavior and personalities. Things we can shift and rearrange. My love is not one of those things.
Over the years, I have studied my love. I have watched who it has led me to, and who it has dragged me away from. I have felt it pull me into the shadows of unexpected places with unexpected people. I have also noticed it completely bored, waiting by the door, dying to get out of places where I thought it might really thrive.
My love is not tame. It is not predictable. It doesn’t follow a projected course. It’s more like a tornado that might suddenly skip off and whirl in a completely new direction. And I’m chasing it, trying to keep up as it spins along, gleefully ripping up trees and tossing gardening sheds in the air. My love is wild.
But when my love has found a place it can be its whole wild self, it tends to like to stay. My love doesn’t need extreme adventures. It can be perfectly content sitting with a cup of coffee, as long as it is in a presence that is equally bright.
Actually my love is more like a light. It’s like a bright orb of light. There have been times when it has been dimmed by circumstance… times when it thought it had to settle for dusty corners in dingy living rooms. Times when it thought “good enough” was good enough. Now is not one of those times.
Right now my love is blindingly bright and strong-willed. It doesn’t pay much heed to logic. If it feels trapped in a spot where it isn’t being met with equal vitality and enthusiasm, it will not let me be.
As I canoodle on the couch, attempting to extract enough yes from the situation to be satisfied, my love waits by the door, flashing and making annoying high-pitched sounds. Until finally I sigh, bid my farewells, rise up, and follow it outside. Then together me and my love stride down the street and it illuminates all the aliveness in the world for me.
Isn’t this a million times better?! Says my love. Yes, I say. You were right all along.
If I ignore my wild love and stay, if I accept a relationship that gives me just a dull glow, my light will get angry and might burn down the house. That will get me out for sure.
I have come to trust the wild nature of my love. It is actually far more logical than my “logic.” It is just less polite. It sees no reason to hang out giving second and third chances. Once it has checked out the situation, seen the dull response to its glow and realized it will not thrive there, it’s already waiting at the door.
Because my love is wild, it doesn’t take anything personally. It just says let’s get out of here! There are better things to do! Come on! It doesn’t care to judge. It simply see’s there’s nothing for me here and would rather move on.
The times that I have chosen to regularly ignore my wild love, its light has gotten dull and it hasn’t been able to illuminate the truth of a situation. If I ignore it long enough it will just sit tiredly in the corner, barely flickering.
I might be smiling and conversing on the other side of the room – repeatedly pumping up a connection with someone that is continually slowly deflating. I pump and pump and my love is coughing and sputtering, attempting to alert me that this isn’t it! But I’ve ignored it so long that I can’t really hear it, and I can’t see its dulled glow trying to emit enough light to catch my eye.
My love is wild. And I have only recently fully realized that it is my wild nature that is where my truth resides. I shouldn’t even say my truth, but the truth.
It is sometimes possible to invite my wild love into a conversation and let it speak about its needs. Sometimes in that conversation, the other’s wild love then comes forward, and these two lights face each other and choose yes, we want to burn together. We want to burn through the limiting human conditioning that has shielded us. We just might burn strong enough to take down those walls of resistance or fear. We want to get together and try.
But sometimes I bring my wild love into a conversation and the other’s love is tucked away in some hidden chamber, clouded by years of negotiation, unable to come forward. My love might be like wtf?! Because it knows the other’s love is in there, and my love pissed it won’t come out and show itself. So my love throws little fireballs and bursts of sparks and hollers come out! Come to the surface! But that doesn’t always work.
Or sometimes the other’s love comes out and produces the light it has, but it’s the wrong size or tint. Or maybe it wants to be taught how to glow by the light of my love, and it looks more like a hungry spark than a twin flame. So my love says I tried, but this isn’t it. C’mon, let’s get out of here.
Does this make sense? Can you feel your own wild love? Where does it live? How bright is it? Does it have a voice that you listen to?
I don’t think this is only about romance. It’s about life. If you don’t listen to your wild love, it might burn down any number of things in your life. Unless, of course, you’ve ignored it for too long. In which case it might just quietly smolder, gradually destroying you from the inside.