We wanderers, ever seeking the lonelier way, begin no day where we have ended another day; and no sunrise finds us where sunset left us. Even while the earth sleeps we travel. We are the seeds of the tenacious plant, and it is in our ripeness and our fullness of heart that we are given to the wind and are scattered.
I found myself without gas in a very down and out section of Birmingham Alabama…circa 1993! Dressed up in jeans torn asunder, tie dye t-shirt depicting a peace sign, well worn Jesus sandals, drunk as two dogs in heat…on 100 proof Vodka. All once upon a time in search of…love.
The woman I found myself with? Jamie, the S and M queen of Toledo, Ohio. When had I discovered this raucous talent? When the welts on her back needed to be tended to. Course, something should have turned my burned out lights on…that something being a larger than life whip…maybe that could have been a sign. Not sure, I was a self professed Hippie who was ready, willing and able to love anyone. Make Love not War…I say.
Yo, Super Blonde, as I spoke to my alter-ego…what gives with thinking love can or could be found at the end of a leather strap with pointy sharp tassels?
I didn’t have much time to respond to my Super Idiot Id. Thing is…there in the middle of a dry county. Amongst many suspicious and unwillingly sober individuals…I thought I had love. With an earnest integrity I wanted love. I pushed for it. I jeopardized it…running from the Repo man back and forth across the southeastern seaboard. Damaged Diva by my side. The illusion of the fairy tale of two maidens riding off into the sunset…sat there before me. Right next to an empty case of Olympia beer, a dried up self destructive queen of the late night fag hag bars and several men named, Otis and Curtis. Oh yeah, an empty wallet and a dry gas tank.
What was love at 24? Beaten figures searching for more. Doing the vintage stroll with a wild and wholly idealistic attempt at pure love.
The Damsel of Distress? I left her and my brand new Coleman two burner gas stove. Hard to come to when coming to on a beach closer to Cuba than Miami. Face down in the sand an empty corn dog wrapper in hand.
Still love or the idea of it…alluded me.
The adult sober search is on…twenty or so years later. And, the following is what little or how much I need to learn. One observation from the oblique blonde. Two trains of thought from men who have me smitten with written love and admiration.
She puts the color in my world.
She knows that I am not perfect.
She knows that I will never be.
She believes in the tussled headed, arthritic version…of me.
She has granted the sky anew to my slanted sight.
She has caressed my poverty of thought…though I fight.
She opened up my closeted heart.
She will be the night I begin and the days that I start.
Love has not alluded me
Love is her peace to which I am a part.
-I’ve always wanted to be loved. I just needed to be shown how.
“When love beckons to you follow him, Though his ways are hard and steep. And when his wings enfold you yield to him, Though the sword hidden among his pinions may wound you. And when he speaks to you believe in him, Though his voice may shatter your dreams as the north wind lays waste the garden. For even as love crowns you so shall he crucify you. Even as he is for your growth so is he for your pruning. Even as he ascends to your height and caresses your tenderest branches that quiver in the sun, So shall he descend to your roots and shake them in their clinging to the earth……
But if in your fear you would seek only love’s peace and love’s pleasure, Then it is better for you that you cover your nakedness and pass out of love’s threshing-floor, Into the seasonless world where you shall laugh, but not all of your laughter, and weep, but not all of your tears. Love gives naught but itself and takes naught but from itself.
Love possesses not nor would it be possessed; For love is sufficient unto love. And think not you can direct the course of love, if it finds you worthy, directs your course. Love has no other desire but to fulfil itself.”
But if you love and must needs have desires, let these be your desires: To melt and be like a running brook that sings its melody to the night. To know the pain of too much tenderness. To be wounded by your own understanding of love; And to bleed willingly and joyfully.”
― Kahlil Gibran, Le Prophète
“Love is the ultimate outlaw. It just won’t adhere to any rules. The most any of us can do is to sign on as its accomplice. Instead of vowing to honor and obey, maybe we should swear to aid and abet. That would mean that security is out of the question. The words “make” and “stay” become inappropriate. My love for you has no strings attached. I love you for free.”
― Tom Robbins, Still Life with Woodpecker
My love was not on the corner of Union and Depot, Birmingham, Alabama. My love is not within the confines of a tiny little home…central New Hampshire. My love was where it had always been…stored within a muscle within bones and skin and blood and water. My love was there for free…never sought or bought.