When coincidences come at the right time, we gladly speak of synchronicity, a term cherished by Jung who saw like others before him that in the movement of celestial bodies lay wisdom without nouns, qualifiers or verbs. A video (see below), about Johnny Barnes, sets the tone for what I already wanted to say.
Today, of course, I had to talk about love, since it is officially the day among the Western peoples. Again this morning, a friend remarked to me that I was not the type to celebrate this day or any other period imposed by the calendar of merchants or companies.
Indeed, I am not in the mood to follow people, to do like them, to lie primarily. It is also true that my feelings have not taken firm root in the hearts of others. I tried, but it’s the same for my loves as for my plants, they grow proudly or dry out quickly. I don’t have a green thumb, even if I have hands, heart, and body in love.
Don’t think my life is a desert, far from it. On the other hand, I am a cautious type, and I have surrounded myself with relative happiness. I’m a bit like Johnny Barnes who, against all the odds, happily expresses his joy at being alive.
Singer Jane Siberry wishes us the same, asks us to love and be proud of our daily companions, to give them thanks, to be happy to be among them.
Thus, to varying degrees, we have companions in existence. To them, we must not force ourselves to tell them that we love them. All it takes is a gesture, a smile, a hug, even a silence betrayed by eyes wiser than our words. Love is simple. I love you, I’m afraid, but you have to love you.
To love well, I believe, it is essential not to persist in feeding our wounds, but to insist on being right. The universe seems cruel to us, and yet it has led us, clumsily, to progress. Let us acknowledge our wrongs, our clumsiness, and let us raise our spine. Let us go in peace.