The Larger Story of Love

Photo by Mysticsartdesign on pixabay

The pieces of my life are laid out before me. It feels like it’s time to pick them up and begin moving towards life again.

It’s not like I’ve dropped out of life, but I have been in resting and waiting mode mostly and learning more through writing. But I haven’t really moved forward much in terms of my work in the world. And that’s all good. Sometimes we need to be in that space, be with what is and stare at the abyss of possibility. With my eyes closed, I can see what rises to the surface to be lived next.

Much has become clearer over the past few months. I know that writing is my path. In a visioning the words “sharing stories” came to me. This may mean more than just mine…though that is a part of it. Lately I’ve been moved more than ever by the suffering of others. Though I know we can overcome suffering, and I understand how it’s often related to how we perceive the situation, this doesn’t make the experience any less real or painful. And sharing our stories can help others know they are not alone as well as bring about healing within and without. We share in order to let go.

Once upon a time a seed was planted by an English professor I had in University. He saw something in the way I wrote my papers in a Canadian Lit class. He shared more than the usual canon of works. We read women and people of color that may not have made it into that canon. He helped us see the experience of being Canadian was more than our mainly white, middle class world. We were faced with the injustices and I was moved to focus on those aspects of people’s stories.

I once tried to bring together the Pagan community in LA by writing about many of the individuals who were a part of it, maybe beyond what some thought of as the Pagan community. In doing that, I tapped into my storytelling ability. This was different from the novels I was writing. Fiction can bring much to light as well, but sharing the stories of individuals within a community with others of that community felt like being a part of the weaving of a larger story that was only partly mine.

Another class in University, Epistemology, which was a philosophy class about how we know, brought insights to me about how sometimes we can help bring light to the troubles of others by sharing their story. Sometimes they can’t be heard in a culture that marginalizes them, and so maybe those of us that have the means and ways can help them be heard. We can’t speak for others, but we can share their story as they view and live it.

These ideas have been with me for over 20 years and have surfaced in such ways as mentioned above, but there is more to this story. What’s surfacing now feels like all of the pieces of my life coming together. Where once they were aspects of my story, they now are now becoming coherent.

I’m also beginning to understand in my heart that my story is a piece of the larger story of women, of Canadians, of Americans, of citizens of the world, of Spirit itself. It’s all just experience in the heart of Love which beats and lives each one of us. We tell Its story with each breath, each step, each beat of our heart. We are here as Love’s purpose. Keep living your life and sharing your stories. It’s all has value and the ability to bring forth Love.