I wrote this two years ago, sometime after Valerio passed away. Its beautiful to me, that I can still retain my values, even in the midst of being put to the test.
The past few months I’ve been coming to learn what love means to me. And tonight I was thinking a lot about the school assemblies we used to have at Longley Way Elementary School. At these assemblies the principle would award leaves to children who had demonstrated integrity, and these leaves would be stapled to a papermache tree that took up a portion of the wall in the cafeteria.
These past few months I’ve been coming to see the beauty of the integrity in true, selfless love. You see, integrity is doing something good and honest for goodness’s sake, and not for the sake of reward. Its going back into the store and giving back the extra change the cashier had accidentally handed you. Or leaving a note on person’s windshield with your contact info even though you were sure no one saw you ding their door. Its like that girl in the movie theater who handed me back my ring which I’d lost in the bathroom when she heard me crying like a sentimental fool because I’d lost it.
But the integrity that’s capable of springing from love… thats like forgiving someone whose hurt you deeply, even if they’ll never be able to know, or even when they’re too hurt themsevles to want to hear it. Or loving someone even if they don’t love you back. Because its selfless; you’re not loving someone because they will love you back. You’re loving them for who they are, and the beauty they inspire in the world and in your heart.
I suppose what I’m talking about is unconditional love. That you love someone not for the idealised image you have of your beloved, but for who they are– including their flaws, foibles, and shortcomings. To love someone because of who they are and not what they can do for you, or for how they make you feel as if you are worth something. To love someone as a whole, because their flaws make them mortal, human– and there is a beauty in that, a beauty like a lost little child you want to scoop up and cradle in yours arms. There is a beauty in that vulnerbility.
I am not a perfect person, nor would I want to be. I think attaining pefection is like a sort of death, because then there is no room for growth. Because life is a journey, and not everyone is on the same page, some have learned lessons others are still learning. And realizing this has expanded my heart, and I have room for more compassion, empathy, and understanding.
ladyslipper26 