Everyone is worthy of love. Is that true? I think of paedophiles, of criminals, of those who take advantage of the vulnerability of others. Are they worthy of love? My instant, gut reaction is that they are not. Until you dig deeper. What is in their past that has made them this way, if we profess that evil is not borne, it is made? I’ve never questioned whether or not I’m worthy of love, yet I chose a woman who questions that daily. My love, my wife, my world thinks she is notworthy of love. And yet, every day I pace until she wakes and we can be together. She doesn’t understand it. If I’m honest, neither do I since I’ve never felt this way before. But what is the point of questioning such a pure, unrestrained and powerful emotion. The need to be together. She is my goal. Together is my goal. We can be doing the simplest of things or the most complicated of things, it matters not. All that matters is the being together. That is my goal. Am I the goal? Perhaps I once was, before I met her, before I met the one. And perhaps that’s the case for those who are best or destined to be one on their own. But I wasn’t. I was always destined to be with her, the one. So I am no longer the goal.
You are the goal? How strange to think of oneself as a target. A nine foot high by eighteen foot wide goal. Too literal? Mostly likely. To improve oneself is the goal? Or simply to be? If we accept what we are but strive always to be better, is that goal enough? What is better? Not in materialistic terms, not in status terms of cars, and holidays, and houses, and bank balances, but in terms of what it is to be human. To love others unconditionally. To love without wishing for something in return. To love simply to love. Which is what we have. It defies explanation, rhyme, reason, or logic. It simply is. My goal every day is for her happiness. Her happiness is mine. Such a simple goal, and yet one which can require so many different components to ensure its existence. So many and yet also, just one. The simple act of being there, of being present in the moment. That is happiness. To stare into her eyes. To let the world around me fade like an old photograph. Everything else melts away so that I can fully be in that moment, fully look into her eyes and see her. See us. See our goal. We don’t require riches, fancy cars, worldwide recognition. We only need each other. We have become each other’s goal.
Does that go against this meditation? Does making one’s life about someone else’s sully that goal? Not if the Universe has oft conspired to ensure we meet and meet again. That we complete each other over and over, in life after life, after life. And what if all that were bullshit? What if it were just this one life, this one togetherness? I live as if that were the case. I’m not waiting for our next iteration. I won’t hold back, thinking I’ll get another chance. There may not be another chance. Even if there were previous incarnations, what’s not to say that this might be our last? Hence, living to the full, living in the moment, living every precious second as if it might be our last. When I take my last breath, I want to know, really know, deep in my soul that I have enjoyed this life to the very best of my ability, and that I’ve ensured she, the one, has had the happiest, most perfect life she could ever have had.
That, that is my goal.
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