Love

Love.  The pinnacle to which all aspire.  It is the mountain that is the mound of your life.  The immovable force that remains behind when you are long gone.  The footprint of your soul that becomes imbedded upon this earth, integrating with the fabric of life, providing strength and integrity to the cloth of all.  In essence every experience and action, is a lesson in love.  An elastic band of stretching and contracting, sometimes contorting.  A thermometer of scale of which to measure each moment, each accomplishment and each action.  So many loves – love of self, love of others, love of things to do and things alone.  Passions and drives, motivation of things to change and achievements to stamp.  At times that mountain is barely visible, so far in the distance it seems unattainable or flat as a pancake equated to numbness.  That flat pancake numbness sometimes feels preferable to a vacuum strength pull into a spiraling vortex below the ground, merged between the erupting, scorching heat from the depths below and a blanketing darkness threatening to cover you.  Yet the depth of pain found in hurts great and small, the anguish of betrayal and the sorrow of loss stand to give contrast and meaning to the swell and the heights of great love.  The foundational strength of the consistent faces of those we hold dear.  The kind word of a stranger or the awe of nature.  The power of appreciation for the minutes that band together to form the rocks of our foundation.  No mountain is alike, no shape uniform.  The outline traceable and viewable but the makeup within a private well, each particle built through the heart.  The splendor of the mountain that holds the history of your life and longevity of remembrance.

In Gratitude and Love.

Nicole Sullivan