I woke up this morning fit to be tied. My brain was goooooing. When I run into anything I can’t solve emotionally, my brain is sure that if I THINK enough, I’ll find my way. Rarely is that true.

The “stuff” that was coming up was about people. People close to me. I can be all wise about those I hardly know. But those that I really care about?

I ran into this great quote from Mary Gaitskill when talking about the huge messy mix of what love is:

Purity of (love) must live and breathe in the impure gardens of our confused, compromised… and broken hearts. Love itself is not selfish, devouring, or (unkind) but it suffers a terrible coexistence with those qualities, as well as with a host of other milder evils – say. resentment or misunderstanding or projection. These oppositions sometimes coexist so closely and so complexly that lovers cannot tell them apart.

I share this, because I see it in myself over and over. I want to blame. I want it to be black and white. I want to always feel good about the people I care so much about. I want to KNOW how to do that.

Forget it.

Thank goodness for the woods. For the pup – who can totally drive me nuts, too. And to art – which will always both upset and uplift.

A toast. To not knowing. To never knowing.

AND to loving, regardless.