Companionship

Companionship. That’s what we truly long for. Not just people to be around, not a “relationship” or a label to define us, not even a community to plug into. It’s companionship.
If we just needed people to be near us in order to be happy, than we would be silent and blind walking around aimlessly together.
If we only needed a community to attach ourselves to, than the world’s population would be located in a single space rather than spanned across the entire globe.

We long, rather, for the touch of others, for the smile that sweeps across our face, for the familiar voice that lifts our spirit, or another heart that will sit in silence with our own when it is breaking.
We long for the hand that reaches out–reaches to the deepest part of our being and grabs at the core of our humanity and pulls out a fresh, new life–and allows us to live freely, awkwardly, and beautifully as we were meant to.
We long for the feet that will move in clumsy unison with ours, one. step. at. a. time. on this journey.

And we crave, desire-we ache to be needed by others.  To be the voice that comforts, a hand to encourage, or a heart to listen.  We are moved to engage in this journey with others, to share this space that we call Earth, and to find meaning in what we call life.
It is not about being safe and comfortable together; it is about being broken, vulnerable, naked, and laying bare your emptiness for what it truly is.  It’s getting lost in the companionship of a friend that drives us mad, keeps us sane, allows us to stumble, and gives us space to simply be.

When we are allowed to share in this journey with others, when we are graced with steps that walk with our own, when we help others catch a glimpse at humanity–and we begin to taste and see it for ourselves-something transformative happens:

We begin to see that love is not a shape, or a feeling, or a means to an end. We find instead that love is broken and bleeding.  Broken-because a heart by itself, although whole-is never complete. Bleeding because without the course of blood rushing through our veins life would cease to exist.  When love does not emulate from our lives we exist in a meaningless world.
When we finally deconstruct our former thinking of love, we realize that love is not contained within a person–it is the essence of humanity itself.
How then shall we live?
How then shall we love?

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