Life is a funny one. She can be so soft spoken. She can be graceful. She can be sweet as a summertime kiss, leaving you breathless and in awe, always wanting more.
But then other times.... other times she's relentless; she's a raging sea; she's painstakingly cruel, gutting you to the core and breaking you down- down as far as you can go. She comes after you in a take-no-prisoners-she's-out-for-blood kind of quest. You wanna run from her. You wanna hide. But, oh sweet pea, how
wild and how alluring it was when I just let it be- when I stopped running from her and just let her waves crash over me and take me away. Let yourself be gutted. Let it open you. Start here.
You see, the cards that life deals you, they're yours. You don't have a right to the cards you believe you should have been dealt with. But you have an obligation to play the hell out of the cards you're holding. Learn to love it all, baby. Learn to play it like a pro. After all, you only get one shot at this thing called life. And I want to love every second of it- every miserable, confusing, black and blue second of it.
No matter what happens though, be a warrior for love. Life can throw you everything she's got at you, but she can't tell you what to do with it. Only you can. Only you can tell life what to do with the broken heart she gave you. Do it no matter what is true. No matter what is hard. Fight. For. Love. FIGHT.
Heck yes, those sweet, precious, and beautiful seasons that life gives you are joyous and wonderful. (Life, if you're reading this, I'll gladly take any and all pretty moments you wanna give me.) But really and truly, you're not really living until you get a good beating from her; until you're face down to the ground and everything you ever thought was true and good has been stolen and destroyed.
When life came and smacked me in the face, something happened within me. It took time, but soon enough I realized that the smack in the face from life actually gave me a new "ummph" for life, if you will. A new zeal for my day-to-day living.
That good ole smackity smack down from life showed me that no one can protect you from suffering. You can't cry it away, eat it away, starve it away, punch it away, or even therapy it away. It's just there, and you have to survive it. You have to endure it. You have to live through it, and love it, and move on and be better for it, and run as far and as fast as you can for your best and happiest dreams that await you amidst it all.
So once I woke up and smelled my new fervor for life that life herself granted me through a good ole fashioned punch to the gut, I stopped resenting her for sending suffering and sorrow my way. I realized that it was never her and I against each other. She's been on my side all along. Both of us, working hand-in-hand through any and every life circumstance available, to learn more about love and fight for it with everything we have within us. Because it was never about me. It was never about life. It's always been and will always be all about love.
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