Who Do I Really Care About?

Sunday Afternoon May 24^th 2020

And... How can I show them I really care about them?

As I thought about the ones I care about, and love, the poem of Elizabeth Barrett Browning (below) about her love for her husband came to my mind.

I thought about what my love for "mine" is to me…

I realise I loved “mine” before they came.

I prepared my heart and my life to receive them.

And… When each of them came into my life, I realised love is much more complex than “loving them.”

This is what I'm learning about loving...

Love takes time.

Love takes intelligent thought.

Love is intentional.

Love is daily.

Love is sometimes messy.

Love is sacrificing presently for future envisioned personal and relationship gains.

Love is patient with oneself and the “other.”

Love is making space and time for an “other.”

Love is accepting after learning that the “other” is “other.”

Love is learning about an “other.”

Love is allowing another to be “other.”

Love is learning how to “get used to each other.” Gordon B Hinckley

Love is giving of oneself to another.

Love is giving wisely.

Love is learning what you need to learn to love this person.

Love is knowing you can leave, but choosing to stay.

Love is making plans for leaving, and staying in hope for better times.

Love is knowing when you need to leave, or disengage – for now.

Love is thoughtful and considerate.

Love is learning about things you never imagined or dreamt about.

Love is knowing there is a dark side… and choosing to focus on the light side.

Love is allowing the “other” to choose their life and what they’ll be.

Love is remembering who you are, and discovering more and more who “they” are.

Love is sometimes not liking, but loving enough to continue in hope for more mutual respect.

Love is about growing, maturing, trusting, growing up.

Love is sometimes suffering pain so deep it is unspeakable.

Love is being personally safe whilst in a sometimes hostile situation.

Love is letting go of expectations, norms and imaginations that seemed so important.

Love is insisting on a certain level of civility and safety.
Love is knowing when and how to keep silent.
Love is knowing when and how to speak.

Love is knowing what you deserve, though you might not get it – at present.

Love is being true to yourself, who you really are.

Love is knowing that sometimes sacrifice precedes rewards.

Love is “casting your bread upon the waters.”

Love is a grand adventure.

Love is a hero’s journey.

Love never gives up.

I’ll add to this as I become aware of more that I want to say in this regard.

And – how do I show those I care about and love that I care about and love them?

As well as I know how to.

As honestly as I know how.

And I keep on learning about how to show, with integrity, those I care about, that I care about them!

By wisely being myself with them.

By safely allowing them to be themselves with me.

By patiently persevering with them.

By building on the good between us.

By searching for, and finding, what is lovable in them.

By noticing what is precious and rare about each of them.

By nurturing the unique, special and irreplaceable in them.

By cultivating the positive regard I have for them.

By being respectful of each of them.

By investing my time, talent and means in our relationship.

By being thoughtful and considerate of them.

By keeping contact with them.

By sharing with them what I think might be good, true and useful to them.

By enjoying what they share with me.
By having fun with them.

By being grateful to count them as among “mine.”

Elizabeth Barrett Browning:

How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.

I love thee to the depth and breadth and height

My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight

For the ends of being and ideal grace.

I love thee to the level of every day’s

Most quiet need, by sun and candle-light.

I love thee freely, as men strive for right;

I love thee purely, as they turn from praise.

I love thee with the passion put to use

In my old griefs, and with my childhood’s faith.

I love thee with a love I seemed to lose

With my lost saints. I love thee with the breath,

Smiles, tears, of all my life; and, if God choose,

I shall but love thee better after death.