Tag Archives: love

I am love

For quite some time now, my mantra has been “I choose love.”

When I am afraid, I remind myself “I choose love.” It soothes me. When I’m trying too hard or pushing too much, “I choose love,” calms me down and eases me. When I am frustrated, or frustrating, “I choose love” helps me to come from love and compassion. (For myself and others.)

“I choose love” is my mantra.

But the other day in my yoga class, as the instructor challenged us to set an intention for our practice (and our day), what popped into my mind was, “I am love.”

I am love embodied. As are you. I am the love of the universe, the love of those around me, the love that soars in my heart when I let it – when I let myself be.

I do believe in love. I believe in hope. And joy. And peace. Even as things are tough all around us. I believe in fighting many good fights and throwing my effort into bringing about the changes – into being the changes – I wish to see in the world. This past weekend I was lucky to be able to March in New York City – and to see the city awash with people with signs, with chants, with camaraderie, and with hope.

I saw love there. I see love all around me. I see love inside me.

There are moments that feel dark, and when they lift and the lightness and love come, there’s nearly no better feeling. When love is filling me – or I’m pouring it out to others (or pouring it into myself, with a cup of warm tea and a snuggle down on the couch with a good book) – there is nothing better.

I am love. I can choose to be love. I can choose to feel love. I can choose love.

And I do.

I’d love to hear your thoughts, and please share this post with others if it resonates with you!

Categories: Hope and Amazement, , Tags:

I want to remember this moment forever

I want to memorize this feeling, even as I allow it to flow through me, and I stay present in the next moment. And the next.

I want to carve it on my heart and mind, so that I can pull it up when I want (or need) it most.

I’m sitting here with both my kids. Enjoying them. Basking in them. And potentially annoying them. But I don’t care (about the annoying part).

“Deal with it,” I say to them, as I hug or kiss them one more time. “Deal with it.”

“It sucks to have me love you this much,” I acknowledge to them. “And to have me delight in you so much.”

They can deal with it, because I’m not stopping.

I’m not stopping – or even pausing – the love that soars through me as I look at and listen to my kids. The delight I feel in learning more about who they are and who they are becoming. The joy that floods my senses and clouds my vision…in a good way.

My parents may have loved (or may love) me this much, but I didn’t know it if they did. I didn’t feel it in how they attempted to show it.

My kids might not appreciate my over-focus on and over-affection for them. They may find me annoying (they clearly do at times). But they know I love them, and to me, that is way, way cool.

My kids know they matter to me – more than most things if not all things. They know they can tell me anything (and I’ll most likely respond in a completely wrong way at first, but still). They know they can ask me anything. And ask me for anything. And I love knowing that they know all this.

And the joy I feel as I sit with the two of them, the wholeness that envelops me as I look down the hall and see both of their bedroom doors closed (because they’re both here and asleep), the completeness that soothes me as I watch them talk – or wrestle – in the other room – all of these emotions are all I want in life.

I want to remember these moments forever, even as I move on to each next moment. I want to remember these moments forever.

I’d love to hear your thoughts, and please share this post with others if it resonates with you!

Categories: My Story, , Tags:

I love you most

That’s what I say to both my kids, “I love you most.”

My youngest will sometimes ask, “Does that mean you love me more?” I always answer, “No. It means I love you most. I love you both most.”

As I’ve probably written before, I was, in at least some ways, afraid to have kids. I was afraid that I wouldn’t know how to parent them. My husband was afraid that I would leave them. Neither one of us thought I would know what I was doing.

I still may not know what I’m doing, but I know I love my kids, and I know my kids know that I love my kids. That is, to me, in many ways enough. My goal was that they would know that they were loved, and therefore, hopefully, at least some or even most of the time, know that they were lovable. Just because. Just because they’re them.

It’s something I didn’t know. It’s a foundation I didn’t have. I had one parent who never really said anything nice and loving, who, in fact, usually just teased and made fun of me – and of anything nice and loving – but who showed up when I needed someone. When we could no longer live with my grandfather. When I was sick or anorexic. And I had one parent who always said really nice and loving things, but who didn’t show up.

I didn’t know I was loved, and I certainly didn’t know I was lovable. In fact, I was pretty certain I wasn’t lovable.

Loving my kids has been a hoot.

It’s a hoot how easy it is to love them. It’s a hoot how easy it is parent them – even if I don’t always do it “best” or “right.” (As if there’s a “best” or “right.”) It’s a hoot how easy it is to never leave them, to always show up for them, to say a lot of nice and loving things.

It’s a hoot how easy it is to give them so many of the things I wish I’d gotten, and it’s a hoot how giving it to them has given it to me. At least one of my kids would probably say (definitely say) I give too much and say it too much and am totally annoying.

I always say, “I love you most,” in return.

I love loving my kids most. As most as I can. For today, because probably and hopefully tomorrow will be even more.

I love them most.

I’d love to hear your thoughts, and please share this post with others if it resonates with you!

Categories: My Story, , , Tags: