It’s interesting when one begins a relationship with oneself. We are all we have from life to death, yet it takes a “swing-you-around-turn-you-upside-down” pivotal moment for this simple concept to grab and shake you.
When I dated, I searched for meaning within others through conversations of common interests, storytelling of one another’s histories; patiently waiting for the “spark.” While I found that two years ago on a first date, I am still searching for it within myself, twenty-two years later.
We don’t often think of ourselves as being two people but we really are. We view the whole earth through our senses, never viewing ourselves until found before a reflection of various mediums. Many of us treat the reflection as a gallery canvas set for criticism, nitpicking the flaws of the picture before us. It transcends back into the world with the same lenses, this time cast unto others. The destruction is a swinging door, hurting both sides in an exhausting cycle.
It’s not a coincidence that not one person in the world can say they are truly happy and satisfied with objects of desire. We hear it in fables, fairy tales, and folklore. We see it in movies, daily life and testimonies. I have searched and searched in the deepest of stores and the most complex of websites for things I thought I needed to improve my life. And when I stop and think about this, I don’t express my love in that way to others. I never have and never will.
So many of us love ourselves the wrong way, if at all. The very concept of viewing ourselves as another can birth new love and enable a radiant love to even our worst of enemies.
I’ve found that in order to “woo” myself and really feel that “spark” within me, I have to view myself as I would a stranger, a child, an innocent. I must smile and laugh with myself. I must go on adventures and soak up the knowledge of the world and the knowledge I have yet to learn within me. I must forgive myself when I make mistakes and encourage myself to strive on to the next mistake.
I feel love when I open a book and sit on the patio. I feel it in the wind and in the brush of the hairs of my dog when we run side by side. I feel it within deep conversation with myself, coming out as a blog post. I feel it when I utilize my history to seize present opportunity.
I feel the spark and I burn with passionate, lapping flames.