The Definition of Love
A Writing/Feeling Prompt to Open Your Heart
Hello Wonders!
Some years ago, when furious with my friend Buddy Wakefield, instead of sending him a raging text, I wrote a poem that shifted my perspective entirely. Here’s how it begins:
I know most people try hard to do good
and find out too late they should have tried
softer. I’ve never in my whole life
been level-headed, but the older I get,
the more level-hearted. And I think
we make gods who look like us
for a reason. I think in spite of it all
we trust we can be believed in.
When I don’t believe in myself, I try
to remember that I have walked on water
over 700 hundred times
in Maine in the dead of winter.
Where I come from, you can drive
a pick-up truck from side of the lake
to the other, and people have an unusually
high quantity of missing teeth and fingers
but you can still sell them wedding rings
and whitening strips like crazy, because
where I come from beauty is in the eye
of anyone who sees what’s missing
but can’t stop pointing to what’s still there.
If there is no definition of love yet,
I think that’s a good one.
Last week, Buddy moved in with me to help me through the harder months of chemo. Since he’s been here, I’ve not stopped thinking about this piece, specifically the definition of love. There are so many ways to define love, and all of them somehow come up short. Isn’t it wild that the most poetic parts of life can never fully be captured with words?
Both Buddy and I have performed with musician Gregory Alan Isakov a number of times over the years. One of our favorite songs of his is titled “Caves” and ends with the lyrics, “Let’s put all these words away.” Something beautiful happens when we put our words away. But there is also something precious in continuing to search for ways to define the undefinable.
Today I’m writing with a simple writing/feeling prompt: What is your definition of love? How has it changed throughout your life? How did you define it at ten years old? At twenty years old? If you live a long time–in the very last hour of your life, how do you imagine you will define it then?
When I turned 40, I wrote down how I had personally defined love every year of my life. 40 definitions, each vastly different from the other. It was an amazing exercise into seeing how I had grown and changed throughout the years. And it was especially cool to imagine how I defined love at one and two years old. Try it out. And in the meantime– please enjoy this video of me sharing the poem with my squirrel friend. I’m pretty certain her definition of love is “Free Organic Pecans”.
Love, Andrea 🖤
At a month shy of 52,
My definition of love has changed.
No longer the reckless, overflowing, all-consuming
Fire of my younger days
An intense conflagration
Threatening to burn us both
Now, it's the feeling of wanting to pull my chest apart
Left from right
And let it pour forth from the depth of who I am
Like sunshine touching everything in its path
Steady and warm
Fiercely bright
It's deeper than it once was
Given more freely
Without the need for a reflection
Shining through all the cracks of past hurt
Heedless of lessons I never seem to learn
But worth the risk
Fearless and blazing
At 5 love was doing things I didn’t want to for people that didn’t know how to love me without putting me in a cage and only giving me access to themselves.
At 10 it was forgetting myself for the grief of others
At 15 love was being willing to destroy myself for someone else
At 20 love was unconditional acceptance of another’s behavior, and giving the benefit of every good reason to doubt
At 25 love is what is emotionally safe for my family, which is what is emotionally safe for myself.
Today love is in the listening of those outside me that support my health and well being. It is listening when I’ve caused hurt, and receiving true love when it arrives. Today, love is going to therapy, endless I forgive yous, and hope and faith that we can be better people.