A woman once told me, “I spent most of my life waiting for love.

When it finally came, I realized it had always been there.”

We tend to imagine love as an event. A person appears.

A relationship blossoms. A moment shifts everything.

And sometimes that happens.

But more often, love doesn’t arrive like fireworks.

It arrives like breath.

Quietly. Faithfully. Unannounced.

Love is in the way your body heals itself every night without being asked.
Love is in the way a friend listens without fixing.
Love is in the way the earth keeps making apples despite all we do to it.

And yes, love is also in heartbreak.

Because without the tenderness that love awakens,

the truth of who we really are would never touch us.

A teacher once asked, “Can you love this too?”
Not just beauty.
Not just inspiration.
Not just belonging.
But disappointment.
Note the courage in that question.

When we live with an open heart,

life cannot promise safety-

but it always offers connection.

You don’t wait for love by standing guard.
You invite love by becoming present.

The moment you soften, you meet it.
The moment you stop bracing, it finds you.
The moment you are gentle with yourself,

love looks back through your own eyes.

Love doesn’t need fireworks.
It just needs a willing heart.

~Jack Kornfield

maybe it’s not ok all the time- however-

inquiry for today~ tell yourself how it is- then move on….

how it feels….

a dark lullaby-

I began with wonder,

listening for what might 

come through.

Then, my mother, who’d

lost her wonder, said, 

“Well, what do you have 

to say for yourself?”

It all seemed out of reach. 

So I shrugged and said, 

“Nothing.” And she, 

doing to me what had 

been done to her, 

smirked, “I thought so.”

We never spoke much

after that, not deeply. 

Now, years later, after 

she’s gone, I wish I could 

have shown her my 

reverence for life.

I wish I could have 

shown her how every 

nothing opens, in 

time, into everything. 

~Mark Nepo