Love, Passion and Losing Yourself

Love Prevails


Love will always conquer hate, my dear. Sure, it’s harder won. It’s easier to hate each other – after all, what we know about each other is limited to stereotypes and corporate sponsored lies meant to keep us apart.

But there’s something more to us, something that unites us. Something deeper, something ancient and sacred. That something is Love.

And in that deeper place we know each other in a much more intimate way than they would have us believe. There we are not just knowledge but also compassion. There we know ourselves in one another and we know one another in ourselves.

That’s why love will always win. Because only in Love do we know that the war is an illusion.


Getting Lost


There’s something to be said for getting lost, especially when there’s confusion, uncertainty, or chaos in all of the places where you’re supposed to be found.

It can be such a great escape to get lost in the pages of a book, and an ironic route to silence when you get lost in some tangent of the mind. Sometimes getting lost in the forest is the best path to peace, and the best way to deal with reality is to lose yourself in some great fantasy.

There’s so much talk about the joy of being found, but for now I just want to get absolutely, dizzyingly, languorously lost. Lost in the arms of someone who really understands. Lost in the dream that such a person still exists for me. Lost in a great piece of art. Lost afternoon dream. Lost on the autumn breeze.

Lost to such an extent that I remember what it means to be me. Lost to such an extent that I remember what it is to be free. There’s something to be said for getting lost.


A Life of Passion


A life of passion is a life of excruciating pleasure. I say excruciating because it would be a mistake to think that all of those deep dives into desire and that sweet surrender to the senses doesn’t also come with an equally potent kind of pain.

Passion is a wildfire, seeking that which fans its flame. It won’t be controlled, stifled, or contained. It goes where it must and it stops only when it has consumed itself entirely and naturally arrives at that point of rest.

The passionate person follows none but their heart and answers to nothing but their truth – thus a passionate life isn’t just a life of creation and sensation, but also of longing and loss.

But ask any one of them and I’m sure they’d agree that lying naked with the wildflowers is worth the occasional sting.

Ask me.  I dance in the wild flames as a life of love and loss is far better than one of well-tended mediocrity.



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A thirty something, fifties inspired traveller with a love of home comforts and pretty things. Lives in Norwich, plays in London.

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