Skip to main content

Unconditional Love

I heard this phrase while sitting at a table at an outdoor café in Portsmouth NH a couple of days ago. I was people watching and relaxing after a few hours on the Triumph, and not really focusing on what was being said around me. It was a warm sunny day and lots of people were gathered in the main square. Out of all the various garbled conversations that were going on I heard this phrase “unconditional love” loud and clear. I have no idea in what context it was being used but I heard it as if the person who said it was sitting at my table. And that’s all I heard.

This actually happens a lot to me. I will hear a word in a conversation nearby or in a song while driving and listening to the radio. The way I see it the Universe, aka LIFE is dropping a hint, or maybe a simple reminder.

So what do these two big words mean? For me they represent the gateway to Freedom. A door to Happiness. Not necessarily freedom without responsibility. Or not necessarily giddy happiness. But in essence real emancipation from our beliefs and stories that keep us small and limited. The happiness is contentment really; being fine with “what is” – no matter what it is. Unconditional. No conditions to our direct experience of Love.

Love. That one all inclusive word that can heal, inspire, make whole, and transcend the petty.

More often than not I forget that I once signed up to live my life in unconditional love. And yet even in forgetting I remember even more how much I love this life one hundred percent. The sweetness, the challenges, the yearning, and the acceptance. I may not like what shows up sometimes. I may actually go into resistance. But just under the surface of those experiences there is deeper place I can go to. A feeling that is so powerful. A way of living that is so expansive.

What if?

What if our hearts pumped nothing but Unconditional Love?

What would that be like? What world this world be like?

Pretty cool I bet. Even cooler than it already is…

Later gator-
J

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

St. Valentines Day

I find it odd that we pick a day in February to celebrate the heart, the emotion of Love, the honoring of those we love. What apparently morphed from some racy pagan festivity into a more buttoned down Christian celebration has now become synonymous with the greeting card maker Hallmark. Hmmm. Regardless of this days origins it has been firmly established in the American psyche (not sure about other countries). Forgetting this day for your beloved, your kids, maybe even your pets, is tantamount to being un-loving. A slouch in the Love department. Nobody wants to be that. What about honoring yourself on this day? Congratulating yourself for making it this far on your journey? And along the way how much love was expressed? How open was your heart as you navigated relationships and all the challenges relationships can reveal? On my late afternoon walk with my two dogs back home these were the thoughts running round my head. And checking in with my heart it felt a bit sad....

Actually, Age Isn’t Just a Number

It’s a mindset.  And one that until you reach certain milestones around age, you really don’t think too much about it.  Here are some obvious milestones: Puberty. Getting your driver’s permit at 16. Being able to vote in your first election at 18. Legally able to drink at 21. Then the next couple milestones might be around 30 or 40.  The realization sinks in that you’re not 25 anymore. A deep dive into middle age is on deck. ******* I have felt youthful my entire life.  And by good genetics or a Peter Pan outlook on life I never really felt my age. Turning 50 was no big deal.  Turning 60 also didn’t feel that momentous. I did have a total knee replacement that year and that was an indication that some things with my body were worn out.  But that was a game changing operation allowing me to continue my very active lifestyle pain free. But this past year being 65 has fucked with my head. I see the manifestations of aging showing up on my body. Hair loss. Muscle loss. Whi...

The Riddle

We all have an identity that we believe is who we truly are. As if that identity is static from birth to death. It is how we define ourselves. Ask me who I am and the reply will be – I am me. A man. A son. A brother. A father. A husband. Yes yes of course. But who are you really? What is this thing called identity? I have been so many different identities. Dishwasher. Cook. Baker. Carpenter. Contractor. Salesman. Graphic designer. Firefighter. Stay at home dad. Cyclist. Lover. Tyrant. Romantic. Destroyer. And spiritual seeker. Dreamer too. But maybe an imposter as well? Have I really been any of those things? And when we lose an identity, what then? Adopt a new one? Do we add and shed identities like layers of clothing? ******* How do we ever really know who or what we are? How does belief cloak itself around us to create a way for us to show up in the world? I want to please you. I will rebel against you. I am angry. I am sad. I am generous. I am...