I’ve been trying to listen to music while I work recently, rather than having the tv on for background noise that actually just ends up distracting me.
So I’ve been playing the likes of Dido, Norah Jones, and Natalie Imbruglia as I write. Maybe not the coolest playlist ever, and definitely not the most up to date, but it works for me. Their songs are familiar and comforting and perfect for me as background music.
What I’ve noticed though, is how many of the tracks I’ve been listening to are about love, and longing, and heartbreak. Why is that? I think it’s because, ultimately, that’s what life is all about. It’s a subject that we can all relate to, in one way or another.
Because what is a life without love?
And I’m not just talking about romantic love here. I’m not for a minute claiming that your life isn’t complete without a partner to love and be loved by. I’m talking about all the different kinds of love we get to experience in this life.
The more I think about it, the more I realise quite how lucky I’ve been as far as love goes.
I grew up knowing the safety of 2 loving parents.
I have experienced the love of a brother and a sister. That protective, mocking, unconditional love.
I’ve had the love of best friends. One in particular who knows me so well, who has seen me at my best and my worst, and who continues to stand by my side even though we live miles apart.
I’ve loved a male best friend in a way that I can’t quite describe. It was a love that came from a need to be close to someone while I was away from home. A need for someone to hug and hold hands with in a way that was safe, away from the pressure of romance or sex.
I’ve fallen completely and utterly in love. Only once. I hope this is it for me.
I’ve lived the first flush of love, and denied it was there as it all came so quickly and so suddenly.
I’ve settled into a different level of love. The kind that feels like coming home.
I have the sheer joy of loving my children. This is a whole new world of love. An absolute giving of yourself to someone else.
At the end of my life I may not have achieved all my goals. I most likely won’t have set the world alight with my great ideas and accomplishments.
But I will have known love.
I will be content in knowing that I gave my love wholeheartedly, holding nothing back, even though it scared me more than anything.
And if my children go out into the world secure in the knowledge that they are loved unconditionally, with hearts that are open to loving others, then I think I’ll have done my job as a parent pretty well.