The love of your life


The love of your life is what my grandmother, Lola, used to always call me.  And each and every time she uttered those words to me, whether in person, over the phone or in a handwritten letter (those were the days!) I would feel them deep into my heart.  Down to my core.  In each and every cell in my body.  No longer can that sentenced be uttered without me immediately thinking of her, her voice, her touch, her energy, her love.  There are many types of love that we are confronted with and granted throughout this thing we call life.  What love means for one, and how love feels for one, is likely completely different for another.  And yet it makes our world go round, so the story goes.

Love to me is something I am grateful for.  It challenges me.  It makes me feel.  It makes my body respond.  The thought of love alone – in all the ways it’s made up in my head – can create a physiological response on demand.  A tear streaming down my face (ignore the mascara run).  A pang in my stomach.  A choaked throat.  It makes me yearn.  It makes me complete.

With Valentine’s Day around the corner, indulge in this thing called love, whatever it is that word means to you.  This thing called love that is ever changing in our minds.  As years go on, and life is lived, and experience is had ,and love is lost, our definitions of love are in constant change.  In constant motion.  How sad it is that many of us love others or things or feelings that we would do anything for, possibly kill or die for, and yet many of us don’t love our own self.  Giving yourself is just as important as giving others.  Use that energy of those who love you and view yourself in your eyes and let that heal you.  Or at least try.  Loving kindness at its finest.

A lil list-o-love:

1) The way a book moves me and tells me a tale that in and of itself can change my life.
2) My nieces and nephews telling me they love me, no judgment in their voice.  No judgment in their minds.

3) Being able to take care of and provide for myself.

4) The memories of those lost.

5) The energy that arise through a yoga class, while practicing on my mat.

– Jenny Jen

Photo credit: Source.

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