"Love has no Reality, Without any Sacrifice..."

[Photo Credit: Tony Stromberg, title, "Fierce Grace" ]

"Love has no Reality, without any Sacrifice..."

I was not born to survive under law

I WAS CREATED TO LIVE IN FREEDOM.

I wait for the hand to hold

Of a heart that is

With mine to own.

Please don`t find in my words, anymore than you need, at the moment you read.
The Spirit takes order from chaos.
Please I am only as you want for freedom love has me, to be whatever you need.

You possess a spontaneity with inspiration, that has everything to qualify.

Joy to be as hope I collect your inspiration. As a flower the morning dew.

The greatest gift I have
to give you are my tears
As a summary to beauty
they are faultless.

To own... You are not mine
Until I am your need.

It is not your attention that I seek but your blessing to see that I do applaud.It is not a desire that I have but for you an inspiration that I do write...

But gone as that ray of light that danced on the brook.

These lines ... written by writer: Simon Auchterlonie

I like to consider my Friend, the compassionate writer: Simon Auchterlonie, an Aries with divine purpose and humanity, a water-bearer.

I am not sure how many individuals truly appreciate creative written self expression... I have had friends tell me they abhorr reading.

It is a statement that is alien to my soul.

Then there are others for whom the written word, the sentence that has been generated from their emotions and triggered by inspiration seems to comes from an outer source that I like to consider a miracle.

That is really how I feel about inspiration... it is something that sets us apart from the animal kingdom, maybe it sets us apart from other beings in the Universe?
The need within us to trigger a response in others, or even an emotion or thought, may be frustrating, or even overwhelming.

What about those who want to share their words... without a need to achieve perfection? A need to be read, with kindness, and perhaps comprehension, or perhaps merely acceptance, perhaps this is what drives it. I am always in awe of those who request only the right to express themselves, without ego, but with a sense of awareness that through their art, their life is freer, and their heartbeat is heard to beat faster, as they soar to through imagination to be released.

Simon is one of these individuals... if I look to inspire, whilst aspiring, he is 'expiration' sending forth a breath... a whisper of words that must be released from inside him.... to a True writer in the keen sense of the word. Through a Friends suggestion, I joined a free dating site, in the hopes of meeting new connections: ideally individuals whose pulse was on my beat... I wasn't interested in dating, just the potential enquiry that enables friendships... and possibilities of new dialogue, fresh and insightful from all corners of the world...

When I heard those words, finishing with 'Bless you...' I was overwhelmed, with admiration.
He sounded exactly like my mother... she speaks like this frequently to me, encouraging and over extending herself beyond her means for her children.

One day out of the blue, he tasked his Friend Tim, an Oxford mathematics graduate, to sort out a state of the art, gift for me. Although, several times I found gentle ways to reject his offer, it was an overwhelming offer, he went ahead anyway, and carried it out, execute the task with diligence, purpose and in the process he was instructional, I learnt that the beauty of real humans as beings is their capacity to love others unconditionally and then to make sacrifices that they can ill afford to make.
He certainly has done so, and I cannot measure the value you can place on the gift of love. It isn't the item, it is the quality of the intention, the purpose it is intended for and the reason one makes the gift.

He made it clear that the gift was to be collected from Tim, so that he could show me his workmanship, and that beyond that, he expected no more than the promise that I would continue to write and enjoy doing so with additional tools that felt an intense need to supply.
You often hear of strangers who will without any hesitation extend themselves to you... I have written about friends such as this in MUSE... people like the Jaguar, Sandeep, or Susana... those that take a step away from their own journey to make a sacrifice on your behalf, and push you a little on your own journey - either in the right direction or pull you so that you can lean on them on theirs... Others are water, cup bearers...

Simon is one of those, his kindness reminds me of the beautifully inspirational moment in the Bible when Jesus is given a cup full of warm water... whilst carrying the cross. Amongst the usual, one struck me as different, in fact it stood out, email from Simon... He asked only to be read.

He never asked to meet me, nor for anything beyond a person, to express the most subtle, and emotionally stirring lines. Each mail was completely unique and unusual. He did not try to impress me, nor over rate me as a person or underrate me as a woman. His famous uncle was Hulme... the Poet, writer... and Simon clearly has similar qualities of sensitivity...
There was always a sweet thank you from him.
'Thank you...' what does that mean to me? Who the hell was I? I never quite understood what I could say that would equalise the obvious time spent in careful consideration by him to share his feelings about life. "Remarkable", I would say aloud.

Then as I filled up the kettle and prepared a brew...

Whenever, I read the words of the new connections I was making, I would smile, to myself, feeling how amazing it was that this small window into their lives was allowing me to share simmering surface waves of ideas and emotions that engulfed their shared moments.
Some of the words would mingle with my thoughts, the spoon stirring them into my tea-cup, and as I would lay the spoon down in the saucer... I would carry it outside, dropping the spoon into the sink, submerged by the lines I may have read and now that made me think, about how it must have felt to have written them.

Gentle murmurings of one's hearts tremors just fill our trembling fingers when we have to hold something fragile in our hands...

We despise those who are destructive, and wish to vanquish our demons, sometimes only with kindness to ourselves and those we consider alien to us. But what if we can just be kind?
I cannot wait until he has his work published - and if he doesn't do it in his lifetime, I will be proud to present it for him. Sometimes... I come home from the gym or work, and in my inbox is waiting a gift... it is Simon... no difficult queries or requests... just the simplest most sweetest open buds of prose, crafted not from any kind of structured methodology, but from within his heart, and soulfully each offered with a humbleness that astounds me.

When your eyes glance over another human's words to you, (and when it is personal, really directed to you, and only you...) ... it is difficult to express aloud what it means to know that someone has taken your personality and then enveloped in their own love for your persona... they don't know you, they may never meet you, but here (perhaps even) they are falling in love with something that may or not be a part of you are to yourself. If it isn't love it is something minutely like it, affection, a comforting sense of belonging, and caring, and then the urgency of looking forward to the light-heartedness of laughter and witty repartee that can arise from mutual comprehension of different life adventures.

Then there were the ones who said.... 'Let me know how you got along at your meeting... '
How wonderful to share an anecdote, and have some feedback, some insight, or even guidance.
When they have gone to some trouble to express their feelings to you, whether it is about their lives, their family or those that they felt they lost through heartbreak, it is only the feeling that you are helpless to do more than comfort them that jolts you to how fragile we all are in Life.

When you share the same, you realise quickly, that the pulse on our wrists is the same.
A few lines... the expression of which is to the heart... the expectancy is nothing... there is no question of requiring a response. It is simply enough to have read it. This is all that is asked of one. When you read the words, it is more than a gift, it is the painful jolt of lightening-stricken broken bark and the doves that died in terror, torn in the branches... Something that reminds one of the excitement of living and then the beauty of the surviving fragile flower that somehow the storm took pity on and left trembling the wind. That is the real gift, from Simon, his total humility... I have never met him, but then he has never asked me to, he presents a simple honest photograph, and the smile that looks up to you is quite lovely. A gentle person and eyes that sparkle despite whatever Life's assaults have made on him. He talks of women as 'ladies'... and he is good natured, and reminds me of a small child who has some humble offering of plasticine and twigs that he has fashioned into a dog, and who brings it to you and hands it as a gift, it is raw, it lacks finesse but you want to cry just holding this gift held to you without a need for approval, just love.

Sometimes, like all humans on the treadmill we call survival, I am weary, and as I decide whether to make a cup of tea, or respond as kindly as I can to the numerous emails that began to trickle into a fountain into my inbox on the dating site... '.. Sorry, thank you, but no...' or 'I am just here for 'friendships...Sorry'... to '... You moronic piece of dirt that got left by the dung beetle when it decided to discard you... that is how low you are... ‘(smile, I can be so sweet)... I get the loveliest communications... artists and writers, (such as Antonio, Michael, and Simon).... and even psychologists... (Nathaniel... ) ...

That I think the pure joy of having outlets to be able to communicate about anything from our day to day endeavours to the personal experiences that have formed us as individuals... the moments are special to me, and the mental stimulation that triggers emotional and physical responses to their lives and them to mine is the part that is so fascinating...

When I saw a fox slip softly into the bracken, the green foliage caressing its legs and tail as it disappeared, I saw it's eyes and we looked at each for a brief second as if we knew what it was to escape. The thing that makes individuals special to me is first and foremost the respect that they can show each other and to themselves... Not for me to be the one who thinks that relationships are purely physical, I can easily adore the person who is willing to be honest, and expose themselves bravely to a stranger... it is something I have often done myself.
"Love has no Reality, without any Sacrifice..."

I love my flesh and blood Friendships, and I love my virtual space Friendships... each fills a void that is part of the compass of north, south east and west within me for reaching out and discovering every outlet of imagination and sensitivity... and part of it comes from how far you will extend yourself to others and they to you. There are healthy boundaries that we all need to create around ourselves, but most importantly there are the those that we must place around others with us to protect our Friendships.

When the insects that I love to watch and examine seemed so diligently purposeful, scurrying and grafting... productive and as I learn from their adoption and specificity, I think and hope I appear to the Gods above, the same ... diligently purposeful... productive and instructive. I always protect the ones I love... I believe deeply that such a need to be ethically self expressive comes from the most astounding love I have ever experienced and that was through my parent’s complete sacrifice, and unconditional love.

It presses me to be the same towards others and even though I am often burnt through it because we are not all raised the same, I try to be resolute in my self propulsion through the eyes that look back at me in my mirror, I am Alice in many ways trying to find a way through the cold glass and find that reality window that begs each of us to escape the mundane... Just being inquisitive and experiencing the whole aspect of living ... "Love has no Reality, without any Sacrifice..."

... Wasting each second is simply not my way... Those with the same urgency to live Life with purpose and integrity will possibly find their way into my life to share some of their battles and the injuries of war... Others may just look and we pass as strangers their heads down low, as burdened they are with introspection. I take each situation as fresh and as a lesson.

Strangers are those who have yet to say 'hello'. Great Friends prove it.... unequivocally, just a few sips of water from their cup of humility and compassion. ...

....Will you welcome a Stranger ... such as me... such as him.... or her... in your Life ... with the willingness to treat them as your best Friend... until ... they are not? Perhaps... become a divine water bearer..."