The True Meaning of Love (and why I’m alive today)
Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. 5 It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. 6 Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. 7 It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres…
– Corintians
This is a Biblical reading often used in weddings, but I do equally often wonder why.
The Love referenced in Corinthians hails back to Agape in Greek or Caritas in Latin, neither of which is normally the love between a young couple on their wedding day as they set out for a honeymoon full of passion, romantic candlelight and special “just us” time.
I’ve spent enough solo vacations on beaches and overlooking beautiful vistas to have met these couples and even, on occasion, been permitted to hijack their festivities for a brief moment when I buy them a celebratory champagne.
Agape and Caritas, are equally often mistaken for “charity”, “sympathy” and other forms of giving a hand out (or more often down) to others. As is the convenient concept of “Love Languages” where someone actually FITS into gifts or service or quality time…as their form of expression of Love.
Perhaps I’m really unique, but to me True Love is none of these. It doesn’t fit. It actually shows up in the most INCONVENIENT and UNEXPECTED ways and times. And it’s equally not in a shape I can describe.
For me, Love shows up most clearly in my dog, Pippa. Not in the sense of her adorable looks or loyalty or constant presence, but in her Divine Intuition, Inspiration and Instinct to know when to interrupt me when I’m headed down one of the many self-destructive paths I’ve traveled, by jumping on my bald head when I’m sad or peeing on the bed when she doesn’t like the guy who’s on it.
But even more than that it’s an overwhelming sense and feeling, like a thunderstorm, that I’m not steering this vessel that is my life and my body. That I’m just here for the ride and the journey. And to Trust. And be Patient”.
This Divine Inconvenience has steered most or my pretty challenging life from a very lonely and hard childhood. And through heartbreak and ache, broken promises and bones, and more betrayals and lies than I care to remember and recount.
But, most of all, it’s taught me to believe in myself. That I am strong enough to keep swimming, even when I think I’m drowning. And to know that even when I’m alone, I’m not alone.
This latest pivot from New York to Bermuda has proven to be yet another proof-point on that journey, plunging me into depths of fear and uncertainty that have made me want to jump ship in ways I haven’t before.
And last night, as I went to bed, tortured after another day of trying how to account for all the money spent and mistakes made in the past year, I finally did it, I asked for Help, and I let go, imagining that my solo footprints in the sand were not mine.
Holly Lynch is a 20+ year ESG and DEI communications veteran, board member, strategist and investor who has helped individuals and companies tackle the toughest challenges, transitions and transformations in their worlds. Having survived countless life setbacks and two rounds with terminal cancer, while seeing the country-wide collapse of the systems and safety nets for the most vulnerable in and outside our communities, she is now shifting her life and career trajectories to focus on coaching and consulting with those facing down fundamental shifts and transitions as they try to adapt to change while rebuilding their lives and businesses during these unprecedented times.
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