16/52

Me and Beebs, soaking up a bit of sunshine on an old picnic blanket by the Bay. We read our respective books...mine a heart opening fiction, his a brain cramping biology text...while people (and dog!) watching, sipping on a cold Foster's (they were on sale, so why not?). The wind began to pick up after about an hour, so we snuggled in close (though I never need a windy excuse to weasel my way into his nook) and cherished that our backyard is a place where folks from around the world adventure out to see.

Sometimes, mostly during completely ordinary moments like this, I look at B and say out loud in my most annoyed voice "Ugh. I love you so much it makes me SICK." before continuing to go about my business, leaving him confused on how to reply. "Sorry..but thanks? I love you, too?" Sure, that works.

Loving him doesn't actually make me sick, of course, but it sure as hell makes me vulnerable. And occasionally, vulnerable feels the same as "sick": anxious, worried, unsure of self...swirls, spirals, and uncomfortable trips down slopes of fear and insecurity. Damn those slopes and their evil ways. I was not born with skiis on! Remember what happened the last few times you loved big, they say. Let's think of all that could go wrong, because that sounds fun to me and I have one sick interpretation of fun.

Like Glennon tells us: Love is hard. (To which I say Psssh, yea girl. Love can be like, really freaking hard. Try doing it on stressful days in 500 square feet of you're-in-my-face studio space.)

But she also tells us: Love always wins. And this is Bible/Quran/Torah/Spirit/Universal truth. (Hence 500 square feet of wholeness, safety, and fun.)

So when vulnerable starts to load me up on a sleigh, ready to push me down a steep hill of fear...when vulnerable starts to take me away...shield  me... from my afternoon in the sun with a man whom I adore so deeply it makes me feel alive, thankful, and wonderfully open to possibilities...when vulnerable makes me feel physically uneasy to the point of shaky nerves and negative self talk, I run through some of the following pieces of advice I'd give to any of my other love sick friends (pssst--that's many of you!):

• Trust the process. It has yet to fail you.
• We're all afraid, baby. We're all afraid of one thing or another. For right now, just in this moment, let go of fear and enjoy. 
• You are worthy. (Or, as my friend Dee likes to say, You're a catch!)
• All this time spent wondering what happens if it doesn't work out. But what if it does? That's a vision worth mulling over.
• Seriously though: What's the best that could happen?
• There ain't no crystal balls, honey, so don't wish your life away. 
• All is well, All is well, All is well. All will be well.
• WWSD? (what would Sophia do...because I mean...Sophia)

And finally...

• When you take the risk of loving big, sometimes you hurt big, too. There is never any shame in that.

Keep loving,

Trish


(But seriously...Sophia...amirite?)