Believing in Big Love

A truly great post by Heidi Priebe

I talk and I date like I don’t.

I don’t have frivolous expectations for romance. I’m not looking to get swept off my feet. I am one of those rare, perhaps slightly jaded individuals who actually likes hookup culture and is happy to live in an age in which monogamy is not necessarily the norm.

But I believe in big love because I’ve had it.

I’ve had that massive love. That all-consuming love. That ‘I can’t believe this exists in the physical realm of this planet’ kind of love.

The kind of love that erupts into an uncontrollable blaze an then simmers down to embers and burns quietly, comfortably, for years. The kind of love they write novels and symphonies about. The kind of love that teaches more than you thought you could ever learn, and gives back infinitely more than it takes.

It is the ‘Love of your life’ kind of love.

And believe it works like this:

If you’re lucky, you get to meet the love of your life. You get to be with them, to learn from them, to give the whole of yourself over to them and allow their influence to change you in unfathomable measures. It’s an experience like nothing else we have on this earth.

But here is what the fairytales won’t tell you – sometimes we meet the loves of our lives, but we do not get to keep them.

We do not get to marry them, to pass our years alongside them, to hold their hands on their deathbeds after a life lived well and together.

We do not always get to hold onto the loves of our lives, because in the real world, love doesn’t conquer all. It doesn’t resolve irreparable differences, it doesn’t triumph over illness and disease, it doesn’t bridge religious rifts or save us from ourselves when we’re corrupting.

We don’t always get to hold onto the loves of our lives because sometimes love is not all that there is. Sometimes you want a tiny country home with three kids and they want a bustling career in the city. Sometimes you have a whole, wide world to go explore and they are scared to venture out of their backyard. Sometimes you have bigger dreams than one another.

Sometimes the biggest, most loving move you can possibly make is to let each other go.

Other times you don’t get a choice.

But here’s another thing they won’t tell you about finding the love of your life: not ending up with them doesn’t disqualify their significance.

Some people can love you more in a year than others could love you in fifty. Some people can teach you more within a single day than others could teach you over the entire course of a lifetime.

Some people come into our lives only for a particular period of time, but make an impact that no one else can ever quite match or replace.

And who are we to call those people anything but the loves of our lives?

Who are we to downplay their significance, to rewrite their memories, to alter the ways in which they changed us for the better, simply because our paths diverged? Who are we to decide that we desperately need to replace them – to find a bigger, better, stronger, more passionate love that we can hold onto for a lifetime?

Maybe we just ought to be grateful that we got to meet these people at all.

That we got to love them. That we got to learn from them. That we got to have our lives expand and flourish as a result of having known them.

Meeting and letting go of the love of your life doesn’t have to be your life's single greatest tragedy.

If you let it, it can be your greatest blessing.

After all, some people never get to meet them at all.

The Lost Art of Letter Writing

I am on a mission to declutter, and purge my home over the next year or so. It is not that it’s out of control “Hoarder” episode material. It’s just that on our last move, I brought several boxes, and extra things with me that I really didn’t need – it was just an “oh, just throw it in the moving van, and I’ll deal with it later” situation. My house is very small – and I want it all gone. It’s been almost 5 years!

This past week, as I dug out my Christmas cards, (Yes, I still do send Christmas cards to a dozen or so people in my life), I found a box of old cards and letters from years past. Well over 35 years ago! I poured a hot cup of coffee, settled into my chair, and started reading, and sorting, and laughing, and reminiscing, and crying a little too, over the memories of times gone by. I miss those letter writing days.

Sadly with our current means of communication, there really is no need to actually sit down and write a letter. Email, Facebook, texting – something like “video killed the radio star”, “internet killed the writer”. Don’t get me wrong – there are some positives about technology, but that’s another post.

A letter can communicate so many things that an email never could. They are personal – they contain your effort, your handwriting, and your choice of stationery. Before the words are even read, you have sent something that no one else could send. No one else has your handwriting or taste in cards. In a way, there is something vulnerable about this. You are revealing part of yourself to the recipient, and that immediately softens the heart. I found myself picking up a letter, and before I knew who it was from, I recognized the handwriting. It made me smile.

Letters are hard work compared to texting or typing. It takes work to find your cards, a pen, stamps, and then to trek to the post office to mail your letter. To physically write the words you could type a lot quicker, communicates value to the recipient. It tells them, that they are worth the effort. They are also inexpensive, yet the impact is sometimes bigger than a $50 gift.

Letters can be reread, and be encouraging in difficult times – they force you to speak slowly, and writing your words forces you to think before you write.

Letters can give the gift of time. The recipient hears your words without the pressure to respond immediately, or to respond at all. Face to face, emails and texting puts pressure on one to respond within a certain time frame. Letters are less stressful and gives the recipient the gift of time to process your words, and respond in their own time – or not! Sometimes sending a letter is just a way to remind someone they are on your mind and that you care. It’s like leaving the door open. “I was thinking about you. I care about you. I would love to see you.” It’s my way to remind them: my door is open whenever you want to come in.

Letters can build relationships. You can communicate through letters that you love and care for people – tell them they are important to you. Over
time, letters can build up a failed relationship, or be a solution for strained family relationships.

Letters cannot be debated. If you have trouble getting your thoughts and ideas communicated, sometimes letters force people to hear you out. They may not read your letter, but it’s hard to resist a hand written letter, so they likely will.

Letters can console the grieving, strengthen the weary, and soften hearts. Letters can ask forgiveness, or gently confront. You can send them to family members, neighbours, friends near and far, and even your "enemies." You can leave them for your spouse or roommate. You can give them to your Starbucks barista, your mail carrier, your grocery store clerk. Sadly, in this day and age, the latter may seem a bit creepy!

I miss it. I treasured every moment of the last few hours reading, and re-reading some of your old letters. Thank you, for bringing me that joy today, and all those years ago, when I first received them.

A recipe... Mushroom Soup

INGREDIENTS

2 tablespoons olive oil

1 yellow onion, diced

1 cup sliced celery

1 cup sliced carrots

16 oz. baby bella mushrooms, halved or quartered depending on size

2 tablespoons dried sage

1 teaspoon dried thyme

½ teaspoon garlic powder

5 cloves garlic, thinly sliced

1 teaspoon balsamic vinegar

64 oz. vegetable broth

1 (13.5 oz.) can full-fat coconut milk

1.5 cups uncooked wild rice blend

3 tablespoons corn starch

2 tablespoons fresh chopped parsley

Kosher salt

fresh cracked pepper

INSTRUCTIONS

Heat olive oil in a large pot over medium-high heat. 

Add onion, celery, and carrots, along with a couple pinches of salt and pepper. 

Cook for 8 minutes, stirring frequently. Then add mushrooms, sage, thyme, garlic powder, sliced garlic, and a large pinch of salt and pepper.

Cook for about 5 minutes, stirring occasionally.

Add balsamic vinegar and a splash of veggie broth to deglaze the pot, scraping all the yummy bits off the bottom. 

Then add veggie broth, coconut milk, and rice blend. 

Dissolve cornstarch in 3 tablespoons of COLD water and add the slurry to the pot as well. 

Add a couple pinches of salt and pepper. 

Stir to combine and bring to a simmer over medium high heat.

Cover pot and reduce heat to low. 

Simmer, covered for 30-35 minutes or until the rice is almost cooked through. 

Stir every 10 minutes or so to make sure the rice doesn't stick to the bottom of the pot. 

Remove lid and simmer for another 10-15 minutes or until the rice is cooked through, and the soup has thickened. 

Stir in fresh parsley, season to taste with salt and pepper and enjoy!

Sounds pretty good, eh?

#soup #comfortfood #mushrooms

Saddest Feeling

The saddest feeling is when the one who gave you your best memories, is now just a memory...

The Things You Find on Kijiji (TTYFOK) # 5

I haven't posted a #TTYFOK lately, and I kind of miss it. They still make me laugh. So here you go!

I think I'll run a poll on this one. Let me know what you think the seller is giving away for free. :) 

Lanark Through the Lens

Moving forward on my journey, I am resurrecting my old Canon Rebel XT, (perfectly decent camera by the way) and will be wandering the Lanark Highlands in Ontario, Canada, shooting the ordinary, and the extraordinary people, places, and things, throughout the seasons. 

Iron Mine Road, Lanark, ON

 

I hope you follow along, and enjoy this part of my journey with me.

This is Lanark Through The Lens #LTTL