Tiffany knows what I love

I guess I’m guilty: I’m in love with love.

Love hearts are my favourite symbol- I have them all around me- I love finding hearts in nature (leaves, rocks, markings from the exiting tide on the sand) and I love the word love. I even have a biz with a friend where there’s a love heart in our logo and our website is lovecwc.

Most of my favourite songs are about falling in love, being in love, unrequited love or even lost love.

Movies that hit my heart the hardest are the ones where a love is harmed.

Lately I’ve been finding the world is harder than it used to be. Mostly because I feel like there is a loss of love. Maybe not everyone is as in love with love as me. I see people being mean to each other about things that don’t really matter in the big scheme of things. I notice a shortness in some of the interactions that people have with each other based on whether someone is wearing a mask, getting a stab or standing far enough away. I don’t like it when our hearts harden, or when we choose to see the differences between us rather than the things that bind us together.

When we offer up our heart to another person we are at our most vulnerable and our most trusting. With each quivering beat we are at the mercy of another- it is our most thrilling, exciting and terrifying time. It is also our most powerful. For if we can offer up the essence of our deepest selves for scrutiny and sanctuary we can do anything. We are free.

Hearts are sensitive and soft and need to be held gently. They are also strong and courageous and true.

We have to keep our hearts well, to listen to them and respond to their wants, lest they stiffen or become sharp. The vicious edges of a heart that has been neglected can cut as clean as a shard of glass drawn along the length of a finger, throbbing to death as the life and love pulses out of it.

One day a long time ago my boy and I were talking about war. It was ANZAC Day and I was trying to explain to him why the emotion of the day always overwhelms me. Why my usually stoic lacrimal glands seep with tears for people I’ve never known in places I’ve never been. Why the Last Post causes my arm hairs to stand up like so many soldiers. He couldn’t understand it, my gentle boy, and I watched his brain tick over the thoughts one by one, trying to make sense where there is none. Finally he looked at me and said, “No one would ever go to war if everybody just remembered that everybody else has a mummy. The mummies love them. And the mummies will be really, really sad.”

My boy was right.

These days when I get dressed in the morning, my finishing touch and my fortress is my necklace. It was bought for me by my family and it whispers my favourite word, from my favourite shop. I look in the mirror as I put it on, and say quietly, “I’m just adding a little bit more love.” And then I breathe out, and think of ways that I can make my necklace come true.

I think it’s okay to be in love with love.

..From The Ashers..

Someone* once said, “Things have no inherent meaning, just the meaning we bring to them.”

It’s a statement that comes to me time and time again, because it’s so simple and true. I use essential oils a lot, and I like them for the ‘properties’ they have. You know, how Rose Oil needs the massacre of fifty bazillion rose petals to make 5ml of the stuff, and it has a vibration of 325mHz and is the oil of Divine Love. Now it may or may not be those things. And it may or may not bring me divine love when I inhale it, but it’s the meaning I bring to it that gives it at least some of its power. You might smell it and say, “That shit stinks, it reminds me of the 80s” (potpourri was a thing) and bring a completely different meaning to it.

And so it goes.

For all of the things. Whether it be the transformative or mundane experience of birthing a child, bringing home a new cat, or that first sip of silent coffee. It’s the meaning we bring that gives our life meaning.

The cool part is: we get to choose. We get to choose if that fancy champers is a story of female empowerment, success and innovation, or an expensive way to get pissed. We can choose if putting on some lipstick is a sign of gender-based oppression, ridiculous vanity, gorgeous nurturing of our feminine (or masculine- get on it fellas) beauty or a reminder to speak our truth. Très exciting. (Or boring- yet again, you get to choose).

My life motto is “choose your own adventure”… a variation of “You do you, Boo” because I believe it’s the source of true freedom. From FOMO and JOMO and growing a Mo. (Shut up, I’ve got The Menopause okay).

This week Coco did a hard thing, and, as it is with many hard things, there were opporfuckingtunities galore. Some of the biggies were her expanding belief that she can do hard things, along with an ability to control her own state. Often in life it is alluring to believe we are the victim- of crappy circumstances, mutated genetics (sorry Coco) or financial flukes that are outside our control. And although it might be kinda easy to go along with that flow, we’re going to end up in the crappy creek if we keep the story running. And the converse is so cool. We already know it, don’t we? When we jump in (not to shit creek, into the pool of potential) and accept the reality of the sitch, and wonder, “What can I do with this clusterfuck?” the real fun can begin.

When Coco did her hard thing this week, we chose to make some meaning from it. And because I am nothing if not good at shopping, of course I chose meaning in a little blue box. We trotted off to Tiff, and once our eyes grew accustomed to the opulence, we found just the thing. A little bracelet with silver balls, that she can use like Mala Beads to calm her state when things get freaky. A little bracelet as shiny as the moon, that she can use to know that the power of nature is within her, and she is a force of her own. A little bracelet with a blue heart to remind her that she has “cor” or courage waiting within her, any time she wants it.

So is a Tiffany bracelet a silly present for a thirteen year old? Probably. Is it indulgent to buy a kid something like this for ‘no reason’? Maybe.

Or maybe it’s just the meaning we bring.

*If you know who that someone is, please tell me. I use the quote a lot and I would like to attribute it. Guy Riekeman perhaps?