I love this life, and I don’t want to miss a moment of it. I walk through autumn splendor, and the beauty is almost too much to absorb, but then I open to it and imagine every pore is opening to it and every inhale receives the ochre and gold against the blue sky and white clouds. Each inhale is an exaltation of the paradoxical watercolor blending of life and loss that defines our reality.

I want to know every element of this life.

I want not only to hear the bird call, but to know the name of the bird so that when I say hello, I can do so properly. We all know how good it feels when somebody greets us by name. We know the sweetness of knowing and being known in this world that is both vast and small.

I walk and open and open and open my heart, the receiver and processor of beauty and pain. I want to love as fully as I can, knowing that loving fully means feeling the pain of loss.

It’s how I sat earlier today under the apple tree where we buried our sweet kitty Tashi four months ago and let my tears water the earth of her graveside. In my mind‘s eye, I could see her walking across the yard to greet me, remembering how every moment of seeing her was a moment of pure joy. And how those moments will never happen again.

And then my husband walks out of his studio door and comes to sit beside me. I only have to say one word – Tashi – and he knows everything. I lean back into his chest so that his open warm heart is beating against mine and marvel at how love and loss coexist in every moment.

I marvel that this beautiful man has walked by my side for nearly three decades, witnessing the unfolding of life, love, and loss. He was with me when we received the news of my grandmother’s passing (today is her birthday). He caught our first son, and then our second. He’s been catching all of us, every day, through the smallest and largest moments of life and death, for years. 

It is a practice to love, both this world and those closest to us. There is something inside of us that protects the heart from loving fully, from opening and opening because it knows that when we open to the beauty, we open to the possibility of loss.

Autumn teaches us this lesson: how love and loss are bedfellows. But still, because we are deeply conditioned to protect the heart, and because these forms of protection can arrive in confusing and convoluted way, we must practice the art of loving daily.

This is what I teach in my 30-day course Open Your Heart: the Love Laws and Loving Actions that grow love and attraction. Being in a romantic partnership is one way that we’re given daily opportunities to expand our capacity to love and be loved (there are many other ways as well, of course). If you’re ready to love more deeply, to learn how to embrace the goodness of the good partner you’re with, come join us. This 21st round will start on Saturday, November 15th, and I look forward to seeing you there.