They say, love yourself.
And one wonders why
There is such little genuine affection
For the one we live as.
How is it possible?
When we have never met
Never studied our own reflection
Letting our eyes rest?
Have you ever asked yourself
What truly interests you?
What brings you alive,
Makes you feel, deep, light and bright?
For more often than not,
The heart and mind wander away.
We forget ourselves,
Whilst another’s beauty captivates.
Allow your gaze to turn inwards.
Simply pay attention there first.
For this is not like any adoration
Which we direct outwards…
Where first, love is remembered
And then the details are seen.
(Were things always in that order
We would forgive, everyone, and everything.)
No. This is a different journey.
To start with curiosity is enough.
To touch, to feel, to observe
To empathize with this near-stranger is difficult.
We are not used to it.
We don’t know how.
No importance was given here.
What is eternally present, has been filtered out.
So start afresh.
Look into your own eyes,
Explore, only as a lover would.
Touch gently the stubborn, curling strand of hair
A sensitive spot behind the knee…
Visit slowly, tenderly, those secret, vulnerable places
Where only soulful lovemaking would reach.
Share in that inner child’s eager wonder
Allow the grief of the tragedy queen
Salute the bravery of the veteran soldier
Thank the grace the healer has seen.
Listen to the victim’s frightened cries
Witness the bully’s anger and blame
Discern how the hurt and defeated
Still hoards pain and shame.
With as much obsession, and compassion
That past objects of your affection inspired
Look within and celebrate
All the character you have acquired.
For before you can love yourself
You, your self must meet:
All the lights and shadows within
With kindness, first, must be seen.
Take your time, but do it well.
Remember, this ain’t no temporary fling
For this is the One, my dear.
This One is for keeps.