Tempus Fugate’s Place

Recently, a good friend made a comment that I found very interesting.  She told me to sit up straight.  Don't slouch.

At first, like most people, I wanted to be defensive.  After all I like me.  Well most of the time anyway.  But seriously, who does that?  Who points out something so intrusive? So judgmental? Something so positively personal as posture?

Then in a moment my sky cracked just a little.  I realized what a blessing it was to have the kind of friend that could say that me.  That she was comfortable enough to make a point out of something so trivial yet important.  I wanted more.  I want people in my life who will challenge me. Who will expect more and better, no matter how much better my better gets.

Like most people, I crave a better version of me.  I want to improve and have a fierce desperation for being the best me I can be.  Which may not be much, but like they say "Aim High" right?  So why was my first reaction to shy away from such clearly beneficial feedback?  At what point did my walls get so high?  At no point do I ever want to be that person who isn't coachable and teachable.  That kid who can't take the criticism regardless of the source and use it to for my own improvement.

From my lifetime of learning to learn I've come to intensely value feedback, respect expectation setting, and covet communication.  Especially when those things are clear, direct, and actionable. In this situation, I had all those things.  It wasn't a reflection on her and my posture benefits her directly not a whit, it was merely a helpful, caring comment meant for my edification alone.  If only I had more like that.

This past two weeks, I can't stop thinking about that moment of clarity when my mouth stopped and my ears started. When for a brief moment my guard was pierced with so few words. Sit up straight. Don't slouch.

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If it's really love, there are no rules. If there are rules, it isn't really love.
 
It may be like or lust, desire, pleasure, enjoyment or ecstasy. But those feelings that fulfill are only the results. They are symptoms not the ailment, they are the effect and not the cause.
 
Love is a choice. A deliberate conscious releasing of one self to another. You cannot have love without loss.
 
The act of loving, even your soulmate, the one who completes you, requires a giving up some of yourself. A surrender of some of your insides to make room for some of theirs. To allow your course to be charted in some way by anothers.
 
Love without sacrifice is often sought and never caught. Sacrifice without love is impossible. Even for yourself. You have to love yourself if you want to change for only you. It's easy to change to gain other things outside ourselves (relationships, jobs, etc.). We love them so we sacrifice.
 
The concepts are simple. But they are daring and they call us to the mat. Without their simplicity we cab hide behind ambiguous wants, desires, and duplicity. We can get tangled up in choices and conflicts. To find what someone loves follow their time, follow their money, follow their talk.
 
We make any exception or convoluted course of logic to rationalize our desires and longings. We never have to explain our loves. We agonize and suffer for our wants and lusts but never think twice about sacrificing for our loves.
 
I've been struggling with this myself. Things I've known for years eluding me behind a shield of enjoyment and desire. In the end I have to choose to love myself. With that I can see compromises and conflicts more clearly. The shortfalls and sufferings stand out in sharp relief when thrust into the light of my own self-respect.
 
Are you clear about your loves? Follow the lines in your life and cut away the chaff. It's hard but necessary for growth. And growth is necessary for happiness. And happiness will lead you to more love.

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