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Scott K Smith

2632 West Avenue 35
Los Angeles, CA, 90065
United States

213-254-5302

Home of Scott K Smith, Magick Maker
On Magick, Health, Healing, Ritual, Energy, and Spirit. Dedicated to the Gods in all of us, TheSacredOther.com

Musings

Healer. Artist. Intuitive.

On love, the heart.

Scott K Smith

I have no fear of losing you, for you aren’t an object of my property, or anyone else’s. I love you as you are, without attachment, without fears, without conditions, without egoism, trying not to absorb you. I love you freely because I love your freedom, as well as mine.
— ― Anthony de Mello

Good morning,

At least when you read this, I am in my morning. Light peaking through our gauzy curtains here in Glassell Park, watching the world stir from my studio window. 

Before I begin, can I ask, if you can, play this piece of music before I begin. It's heart music. It's nice in the morning. Most importantly it resonates with this moment, and the post. Now as this plays get into a meditative space. Whatever the quality of your meditation, relaxing the body, the mind, the belly, feelings, thoughts, and breath. 

Audio is interesting. When we record something we are there as it is spoken, as it is heard, at the moment that it is brought expressed. Unlike a photograph which captures and freezes a still, of a moment, sound is vibrating then, now, and wherever it is heard. 

Remember that what we speak, lives on. Sometimes long after we have gone. 

When we listen to a record, we can be present with everything that is listening to that recording. That's my opening for today.

But I'm here to write about something different. I'm here to write about heart. We are here in this moment together, let's take a breath and be. 

Breathe. 

Today I wake and many thoughts move through my mind. Many of you... my friends, my students, you know who you are because we meet in circles, in Gather's, over dinner, on the internet, across my table. We meet and I am holding space for you. 

Holding space centered and clear to hear you, to support you, to be with you in healing and magick. And it is the living memory of those spaces that resonates with me, and within them the seed that I wish to nurture now. 

Love is...

What? How do you define love? Is it a state of continual bliss? When you imagine it, what do you think it is? Do you have it? Are you in it now? What must it feel like if you do not? 

Are not all these thoughts about love, judgement? Are they in themselves distant, or just outside of the place we call love? What are facts to love? What is love without beauty, art, poetry?

In so many sessions the last few weeks where I find myself demonstrating vulnerability. Opening myself up and presenting an open heart; and that may sound like different things to different people, and for me it is this, stillness and openness with care. I do this because we, I, you, complicate everything. 

Love is never any better than the lover. Wicked people love wickedly, violent people love violently, weak people love weakly, stupid people love stupidly, but the love of a free man is never safe. There is no gift for the beloved. The lover alone possesses his gift of love. The loved one is shorn, neutralized, frozen in the glare of the lover’s inward eye.
— ― Toni Morrison, The Bluest Eye

"Love is never any better than the lover."

We are the instrument of our heart. We are learning about our inner light, the intelligence of being, and the sharing of that light. Pages of fire and water. Queer peoples all of us for being so contradictory. We are all others. Sacred... Others unravelling self, experience, and hoping beyond all hope that the pain, the joy, the life can be shared.

Nothing simply fits, but we like recently wakened monkeys, ingesting strange mycelium, are fiddling with things to see how they fit together. We are ancient beings with deep wisdom of ancestors and a history of peoples, and families; and we are new in life, each day, like the color of spring born. And all the color are suddenly new focuses that we are bringing to the school of life. 

Remember that what we speak, lives on. Sometimes long after we have gone. Maybe this is why we love our authors and poets so much. They are still speaking those same words in our hearts. They are talking with the unburdened love. 

Among all this contradiction and parts being put together, hands and eyes, bodies and voices articulating love, or hate, or silence, we are there.  

Holding space.

Holding focus. 

Being in heart, no-longer trying to articulate that feeling, that space, just being in it. 

Can you do that with me? You want it for yourself. So offer what you want to receive to another. Give what you wish to receive, and you will have it. 

Love. 

Just for today remember your mother as you did when you were a child and her smile brought warmth to your heart. Think of your lover, or a past lover, when you met and your eyes lit up with a heart fire, with possibility, potential for anything including all the love, sex, joy, and companionship. Think of your father, your auntie, Opa, best friend, dog, companion, inspiration; and go back to that uncomplicated place within yourself and let everything else go. 

As always, not condoning, just accepting. 

Letting go and not deriving any meaning from it except to unburden your heart. Letting go and not condoning any pain, just accepting what you feel beneath it when the heart is free to love without the conditions we have placed upon ourselves. 

Just for today go back to that first green shoot of you, when color was strong and rising, and you were reaching for the sun, and if for a second you find it, good. It is one second you have remembered you. 

It's good. 

Although I speak in tongues
Of men and angels
I’m just sounding brass
And tinkling cymbals without love

Love suffers long
Love is kind!
Enduring all things
Love has no evil in mind

If I had the gift of prophecy
And all the knowledge
And the faith to move the mountains
Even if I understood all of the mysteries
If I didn’t have love
I’d be nothing

Love never looks for love
Love’s not puffed up
Or envious
Or touchy
Because it rejoices in the truth
Not in iniquity
Love sees like a child sees

As a child I spoke as a child
I thought and I understood as a child
But when I became a woman
I put away childish things
And began to see through a glass darkly

Where as a child I saw it face to face
Now I only know it in part
Fractions in me
Of faith and hope and love
And of these great three
Love’s the greatest beauty
Love
Love
Love
— -- Love, Joni Mitchell

Scott K Smith
This post appeared first on TheSacredOther.com