Mature love

Somewhere in the night, I was thinking about love, remembering a love of my younger years. 

If I could describe it, there were hooks in the love. A neediness and wanting that brought in a wobble to the purity of what I know love to be now.

If I go deeper, it was my own lack, my own hunger for validation, for being loved by another that birthed these hooks. 

I was not enough in myself. I wanted the other to have me feel enough.

Of course, people can help us see we are enough. They can hold the space for us to be enough. But only we can fill our own cup with enoughness.

To find love later in life, after years of being on my own, figuring myself out, has been a gift. The years in the wilderness of my own solitude brought me to like myself, accept myself, and then love myself. Loving another when we do not need love for ourselves still amazes me with its grace and ease.

The love I have now is love, without a single hook, without anything but love, gratitude, surprise, delight and more gratitude.

A most precious experience. I feel very blessed. Worth every second of time in the wilderness.

Photo taken October 8th 2015