Twenty-Seventeen... The Year of More Love
  • Blog
  • About
  • Contact

How much would you pay for love?

6/10/2014

10 Comments

 
I need to begin with a ‘The Year of More’ Confession.

A few weekends ago I bought a DVD. 

Yes, I know, I promised I wouldn’t. 

But I did it for love. 

Truly.

Last year I had bought the movies ‘Before Sunset’ and ‘Before Sunrise’ on one DVD and when I finally got around to watching them a few weeks ago, I simply couldn’t wait to find out what happened to these characters in the third movie ‘Before Midnight’. 

I was so caught up in their love story that I broke one of my goals for The Year of More – to not buy any DVDs for 12 months. I briefly thought about renting it from my video store (yes, they still exist!) but I was pretty sure I would want to watch it again so I chose to invest $12.95 in my own copy instead. 

Did I need to buy it? No. But love makes us do irrational and impulsive things sometimes. 

On the Scale of Irrational and Impulsive Things this one is quite minor of course, but it’s a slippery slope to The Bigger Things. Trust me, I know from experience. That slope is desperately slippery at times.

I have done many, many, many Irrational and Impulsive things in The Name of Love.


Picture
I rushed out to spend $12.95 on love and it wasn’t even my love story. It wasn’t even about Real People Who Actually Exist. It was about characters created by the imagination of someone else. And yet I felt completely invested in their love story and I literally couldn’t wait to find out what happened to them. 

Fictional love has a fairly hefty gravitational pull but real life love has the greatest gravitational pull of all.

Think about the romantic love stories in your life. 

The first one.

The grand ones. 

The painful ones. 

The one you perhaps still daydream about from time to time.

The one which continues. 

The ones which have ended.

The ones which helped you grow.

Which is hopefully all of the above. Love should always help us to grow. 

Picture
I realise that DVD didn’t cost a huge amount of money but I broke one of my cardinal rules for The Year of More so that makes it a significant expenditure.

So it got me thinking about the price we pay for love.

The price we pay can be monetary.

Picture
Or letting go of an ideal.

Picture
Or giving up freedom.

Picture
Or taking on responsibility.

Picture
Image from Pinterest
Or facing the fear of having your heart broken again.

Picture
Or the fear of vulnerability.

Picture
‘I’m not going anywhere’.

Surely they are four of the most beautiful words ever put together to form a short sentence.

That’s love in itself isn’t it?

I think about all of these things when I think about falling in love again. Except perhaps, the ideal of him being taller, although I’m sure there’s another ideal kicking around in my heart that is screaming out to be satisfied. Although I think it’s simply that he will accept me warts and snorts and all for The Quirky Being I Am.

I applaud people who are brave enough to Love Again. 

Picture
Because quite frankly it’s a scary prospect to the Little Miss Independent who resides safely in Her Happy Little Life.

That’s me, in case that was a tad vague.

I guess like anything in life, love is about doing a risk analysis. Yes, you can even be nerdy with love.

Is what I’m giving up – freedom, heart safety, possession of the remote control (omg, would that mean I might have to get the TV aerial fixed and watch football again?? Surely not!), financial independence, 100% decision making about my life, being responsible for Just My Little Old Self and most importantly, giving up the delightful life I’m living now.

In exchange for…


Picture
A collage of photos from My Delightful Single Life
The Great Unknown Land of Love.

Love in its grandest of grand forms.

A love made of tougher stuff than all previous versions in my life have been.

A love to share in the most intimate of ways.

A love which withstands fear and vulnerability.

A love which grows as strong and solid as a gum tree.

A love which laughs out loud and snorts along with me.

A love which allows me to continue to grow as my own person.

Picture
Those of you who are comfortable and secure in your love lives probably don’t remember the feeling of The Love Unknown. I know I didn’t when I was Happily in Love.

The Love Known is a place of security and never-ending possibility. It's a place people long to reside.

I’ve never forgotten sitting next to a couple on a plane flying from LA to London when I was a very naïve twenty-one year old. They were a couple in their thirties; he English, she American. She cried from the moment she sat down in the seat next to me. Not quiet crying. Gut-wrenching, heartbreaking sobs. After an hour or so, she got up to go to the bathroom and her husband and I got talking. He explained they’d just gotten married and they were moving to London to live. A happy story one might think. So why was she so upset?

Because she had two children she was leaving behind in California. I can’t quite remember why they couldn’t live in the States but there was some problem with his visa so they were going to live in the UK for a few years and then move to LA to be closer to her children.

Even my young, naïve self knew how significant that must be for a parent to do.

Leaving children behind is a rather hefty price to pay for love isn’t it?

Due to my insatiably curious nature, over the years I’ve often wondered what happened to them. Did their marriage survive or was the price she paid too high? How did her children cope in her absence? What message did her actions send to them about love and relationships?

When we hear about people making huge decisions like this, we often feel as though we have a right to weigh in. To have an opinion. And too often, to voice an opinion.

But we never ever know what’s really going on for someone else. In their head and their heart. We can never look at someone else’s life through our Life Lens. It’s hard enough making Big Life Decisions without having everyone judge you for them at the same time.

I remember thinking this was surely the most difficult decision of this woman’s young life and I felt compassion for her but I was also a little bewildered about how she could seemingly choose a man ahead of her children.

Picture
Perhaps one of the most controversial and publicly debated Love Decisions was made by King Edward XIII. Edward (I feel I can call him that), gave up his place on the English throne on 10 December 1936 (having been King for less than twelve months) because he wished to marry Wallis Simpson, a twice-divorced American he had been having an affair with for a number of years. Edward and his love married and lived together in exile until his death in 1972. 

I’m sure his reasons for abdicating were not as clear cut as merely ‘being in love’ but I guess he felt he would find greater happiness with her, than he would being the King of England. Not a small price to pay.

That’s the interesting thing about the concept of ‘sliding doors’, we never ever know what our lives would have been like had we gone through the other door instead.

Where would you be now if you’d taken that chance on love?

Where would you be now if you hadn’t given up on that relationship which hadn’t quite reached its use-by date?

Where would you be now if you’d realised a long time ago that the person you’re with is not the person your heart truly longs to love?

Picture
I saw a photo of an old love of mine online last week and he is now step-father to four children (he already has three of his own) and it took the wind out of me, even though it's not the first time I've seen a photo of them all together. The Irrational Impulsive Human that I am, automatically compared My Life to His which was an absolutely ridiculous thing to be doing. The rational part of me knew that.

But I did it anyway. Involuntarily and painfully. Until I stopped to remind myself that I chose a different life than the one I could have shared with him. And that I have a Most Lovely Life which I wouldn't trade for all the chocolate in Willy Wonka's little factory.

But sometimes our hearts squeeze with excitement or love or breathtaking longing for what once was. Or might have been. Or may still be. And yet the reality of it is always different than our vision because once we have ‘it’ or once we get ‘there’, our perspective changes yet again. That's where the premise of 'I'll be happy when' comes from. If we think like that, we'll never actually ever be happy because it's always something we're striving for. Something we’re trying to attain. Something we don’t yet have. 

I know I’m happy now. Right where I am. Happiness isn’t something I find elusive and mysterious. It’s not something that I’m always seeking. Because it’s already beside me.

Could I be happier with a partner? 

I think that would bring a different type of happiness to my life – and an entirely new set of challenges (to say the least!) - but not having a partner certainly doesn’t take anything away from the high level of contentment I feel most of the time. 

And I know from experience that love seems to find me when I least expect it. And often at a time that is rather inconvenient. But find me it does. And no doubt it will happen again.

Picture
Who am I to argue with Love’s timing!

I often read about love that moves me to tears. I adore love so it doesn’t take much for something or someone to touch my heart. But this is something different than your typical love story. This is about letting go of love with a heart filled with love. This letter is written by a man to his wife of 20 years, on the day they got divorced. 

http://www.huffingtonpost.com/michael-cheshire/an-open-letter-to-my-now-_b_5876984.html?ncid=fcbklnkushpmg00000063

Imagine if we could all end relationships with this much love and respect for our partners?

Picture
Love made me buy something else recently too. A wooden bench that will soon take up residence on my front deck. It has been lovingly made out of an old picnic table and painted blue as that was my Mum’s favourite colour. 

Did I ‘need’ a bench? No.

Did I want to do something special to honour my Mum. Absolutely.

Does my heart squeeze each time I read the words etched on the plaque I’ve had made for her? Every Single Time. Because the plaque is filled with words which embody the life she lived.

Picture
It squeezes because the plaque needs to exist at all. 

It squeezes because I would rather she could sit on the bench – any bench - beside me.

It squeezes because I wish I’d loved her a little better while she was here. I wish I’d looked past her fears and her vulnerabilities and gravitated more toward the immense love she held for me.

There is no such thing as small love.

Picture
Mum died three years ago today. 

The sun has risen and set more than one thousand times since I last sat by her side. As I gently held my hand over her heart as it took one last beat on this earth. Just as she would have felt for my first few heartbeats when I was born. 

Can there be a more patient love than that which is simply present as another soul breathes?

As I was born with a tireless desire to rustle through the debris to unearth the positives in every situation, I do my best to turn sad occasions into happier ones. Not necessarily happy ones, but simply happier than they would otherwise be. So I send another mother a Mother’s Day gift each year to ease the pain of not being able to send something to my Mum. And today I started another new tradition. I took three beautiful bunches of roses to the Buderim Crematorium and Gardens and I placed the flowers one at a time near the plaques devoid of flowers. I cried the entire time but it did fill my heart with a Kind of Happiness.

I walked around the gardens and read the messages of love forever etched onto plaques slightly tarnished by time. My heart squeezed as I saw two toy cars beside a boy who was stillborn. Toys he would never play with but which someone felt compelled to give. A ceramic pair of dance shoes sat patiently near a little girl who died aged six. 

Picture
I posted the following ‘Karen’s Thought for Today’ on Facebook sometime last year and I thought it appropriate to share it here now:

Imagine if we had the opportunity to say goodbye to the people we love - they leave us, seemingly forever - and we truly feel the absence of them in our lives, we realise just how much we miss them and how much we value them and how we are eternally grateful they were woven into the colourful threads of our lives. And most of all, we deeply feel how much love we have for them residing in every corner and available space of our shattered hearts. Then imagine how we would feel if they were miraculously returned to our lives. How different we would be, how different our relationships would be, how awesomely different humanity would be. We think we know the impact loss will have on our lives but we don't until it actually happens. The reality of it is so very different - so much more brutal and heart-wrenchingly final - than anything our imaginations can possibly create. My wish is that we somehow find a way to feel that difference while our special someones are still here... so we appreciate them more, we accept them fully for who they are - right now, today - and we love them far beyond our capacity to love.

Picture
Mother and child - now that’s a forever kind of love.

Joyful hugs,

Karen xo

'I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where. I love you simply, without problems or pride: I love you in this way because I do not know any other way of loving but this, in which there is no I or you, so intimate that your hand upon my chest is my hand, so intimate that when I fall asleep your eyes close.' Pablo Neruda, 100 Love Sonnets


10 Comments

Where does the love go?

13/4/2014

0 Comments

 
My inspiration for this little venture of self-discovery was the feeling I kept having when looking at items in my home that I haven’t worn or used for months (okay, there's the slight possibility some of them may not have been worn or used for years… yikes!), and then thinking:

At some point.
I liked you.
Loved you.
Or needed you enough.
To Pay For You.
And Bring You Home.
But I don’t use you.
Wear you.
Like you.
Or love you any longer.

It’s like a Shakespearean tragedy.

Picture
So I kept this in mind when I would go to buy New Stuff.

I’d say ‘Do I love you enough to buy you?’ and ‘Will I still love you in a year’s time?’

Apparently my new-found and let’s face it, rather odd way of communicating with inanimate objects, wasn’t really helping. Because I still kept buying them. Even though I suspected they were destined to have a similar fate to the many things I already owned. 


Unworn. Unused. Unappreciated. 

But then something shifted.

I was at the beach one day and decided to write my intention in the sand…

Picture
I strongly believe in the Power of the Written Word so I knew this would catapult me into action. I felt a little rush of excitement surge through my body as I thought about how wonderful it is to explore a habit or a fear or a part of yourself you generally just accept without question. 

Even if you don’t particularly like that aspect of yourself. 

Our comfort zone is our comfort zone, even when it’s actually not that comfortable. We just think it’s easier to stay in it than to take a step toward something new. Something healthier. Something brighter. Something we are far more deserving of.

So I sat on the beach looking at the words I’d carved into the sand and asked myself why I was procrastinating rather than doing.

Because sometimes I like to question.

Okay, I always like to question :)

I am always curious about How Things Work. 

And How Something is Made.

And Why People Do What They Do. 

And Why On Earth I Do Some of The Things I Do!

And I knew for me, it was about feeling ready. Preparing myself for what I felt at the time, would be a year of deprivation.

Picture
So I started keeping a Spending Diary. Something entirely unheard of in My Happy Little World of Mindless Spending!

Every night so far this year I have come home and written down everything I’ve spent money on that day - I know, my nerdiness knows no bounds! 

I am now in Week 4 of The Year of More and it may not seem major to anyone reading this, but for me to not have bought a book or a DVD or an item of clothing in almost a month is quite the achievement!


Especially as my Spending Diary (lovingly typed up into a spreadsheet containing nerdy little formulas), informed me that I had spent $1,645.63 on clothing, shoes, books and DVDs from 1 January to 17 March. 

Oh my goodness. That’s about $170 a week I was spending on Things I Don’t Need. Admittedly, I did buy some of those items because I knew I was starting The Year of Deprivation… err, The Year of More and I did in fact actually need a couple of them. But if I’m completely honest with you and myself, only a couple of these items would be classed as needs - even to yours truly who has adopted a very liberal use of the term. The other $1,450 worth, were Most Definitely, Wants.

So yes, reaching Week 4 having zeros in these columns is very exciting indeed.

My proudest moment over the last few weeks was shopping with a friend and seeing a book on sale (by an author I really like) and not buying it. And not only was this book on sale, the price was $1.45. 


Yes, One Dollar and Forty-Five Cents for a Brand New Book – I kid you not.

And Yet I Still Didn’t Buy It. 

Even though my brain was screaming…

Picture
I even surprised myself with that one! But I figure it’s a dangerously slippery slope giving myself permission to buy something because I perceive it to be a bargain - because a ‘bargain’ is relative to the item, the price, the value it has to me and my financial situation at the time. 

So I put the $1.45 (bargain bargain bargain!!!) book back on the shelf and left the store with more determination than ever to have The Year of More.

I am discovering just how empowering it is to challenge the way I think and therefore, act. And I am absolutely loving it!

Joyful hugs,

K xo

‘The essence of philosophy is that a man should so live that his happiness shall depend as little as possible on external things.’ Epictetus
0 Comments
    Picture

    This is me

    Hi, I’m Karen Young and I live on the beautiful Sunshine Coast in Australia. I'm a passionate, nerdy, loud, quirky introvert who loves words, elephants, people, the beach, champagne, chocolate, sunsets, trees, travel, books, Joy of every kind but especially Letterbox Joy, Writing Joy and Theatre Joy. I adore being inspired to Live More, Love More and Be More. I love fiercely and hurt deeply. I make mistakes, lots and lots of lots of mistakes! And I learn from most of them although some lessons seem to take me a lifetime to learn so Life is most definitely a constant Work In Progress xo

    Archives

    December 2016
    August 2016
    May 2016
    March 2016
    February 2016
    January 2016
    December 2015
    September 2015
    March 2015
    February 2015
    January 2015
    December 2014
    November 2014
    October 2014
    September 2014
    August 2014
    July 2014
    June 2014
    May 2014
    April 2014
    March 2014

    Categories

    All
    Being Dumped
    Book Joy
    Chocolate
    Christmas
    Dad
    Dessert For Dinner
    Divorce
    Dresses
    Easter
    Failure
    Fear
    Food
    Job Satisfaction
    Karen-Joy-Mas
    Letterbox Joy
    Love
    Love Languages
    Low Bride DNA
    Mum
    Nerdiness
    New Year
    Self Love
    Spending Diary
    Stripey Bags
    Stuff
    Typewriter Love
    Weddings
    Weight
    Weight Watchers
    Work
    Wrinkles

    RSS Feed

    Enter your email address:

    Delivered by FeedBurner

Powered by Create your own unique website with customizable templates.