"Cultivate interior life as though it were a garden
sanctuary. Give away what you can. Squander your love." - Frances Mayes
A deep online
discussion with a dear love prompted me to plunge the depths of this phrase,
"Squander your love." I fell hopelessly for it when it crossed my
path while reading Frances Mayes' A
Year in the World. It sounded incredibly reckless and it spoke to a
certain element of wildness that I've felt growing in me recently. (Lock
up your guns, girls J) So, what can this strange and
seemingly careless phrase mean. Is it truly as irresponsible as it
sounds?
When Little
Starling asked, "what do you think this looks like for our crew?" I
spouted off several scenarios that included:
Holding your
phone on your chest all night and getting three hours of sleep so you can be
there when the other one needs us.
Talking me down from an anxiety attack via phone or text or
FaceTime when I can’t see my way out of the darkness.
Holding each other virtually or physically when sorrow or tragedy
hits to close to home.
And seeing the massive flaws we all possess yet finding that they
only make us more beautiful to each other.
Another cupcake, looked into my soul recently and said (he claims J)
jokingly, “You’re kinda broken, aren’t you.”
He saw me. Identified my
incompleteness. Yet recognized I’m
working through it. I’m healing. And all the loves that surround me, faraway
friends, close familial ties, new acquaintances, and virtual space families are
making that process continue to unfold.
They may not know they are doing it, but every encouraging word, every
overlooking of my multitude of flaws, every hug and virtual wink is a tiny
reckless bit of squandered love on me. And I’ll take it. Every single careless
bit. And you better believe I’ll be
doing the same. Watch out IRL (in real
life) friendlies, Twitter, FB, random strangers at Starbucks, because I am
getting ready to squander my love all over you….
