Losing Sight of Love

Thursdays have become one of my favorite days. Mostly because of the Love. I have found it one of the most pleasurable pastimes now, to collect image after image of Love as I find it (or maybe more as it finds me) through my lens. Literally, figuratively, symbolically, true.

Within the last year or so of my life, I feel like I’ve hit somewhat of a stride. I’ve been contently chugging away; on track and on time, sure and steady, authentic and real. I recognize I’m evolving into the person I want to be. Softer, kinder, more gentle—to others and to myself. I’m more open, more in balance, more aware. More loving. Maybe that’s why Thursdays feel so good. I’m happy with where I’m at and where I am going.

Usually.

But there are always those days. Days like today where my peace train is jolted by an unexpected and violent derailment. My body tenses and my throat burns triggered by a raging range of emotions. The screech and spark of metal on metal permeate my very core as I try desperately to avoid the inevitable crash. To no avail, petty thoughts and past baggage pile up like boxcars jarred and jackknifed, one on top of the other, twisted and tangled.

Sometimes I forget that to be one’s best self you must pay attention and keep your eyes on the road. I am reminded, as I sit here amidst the smoldering wreckage, when you lose sight of Love, you lose your way. The road got dark and somehow I dropped the map.

With Love long gone, I slowly pick myself up, battered and bruised. The only thing I can do now is look for Grace. Grace will help me find Love. They’re old friends. And thankfully I know that they are no strangers to messes like this one. I also know they’ll help me clean things up and get back on track when I’m ready. And as that morning whistle blows, you’d better believe I’m letting Love take the wheel.



My Love Thursday photo is an ode not only to Love but to her true companion Grace.