Once upon a time, someone told me that their love for another was a decision that they made every new day.

I thought their words were a cop out, as if love could be as simple as tying our shoes or making a cup of coffee each morning.

How could you feel love, but still have to decide everyday to feel that love?

Years later, I began to understand. I felt into the words about love with my own experiences, and I realized, perhaps there could be truth in this reflection.

Some days I am not able to share my love with anyone, let alone myself: I am grappling with my own confusion about how and where I stand as a person.

I find myself wondering how did I get here—in a place in which I am not so sure that I enjoy—as I rarely have a pure smile on my face as of late. I go through the motions because I am dutiful, and try to uphold honor, but I waver because I am not who I want to be.

I tell myself that I’ll get there—I justify that I have time because becoming an author only improves with years and experiences (like a bottle of Zinfandel)—but it’s hard to wait.

I want to remind myself that now is the only moment that we can know.

I search for solace in my breath, but I’m holding it in, and barely letting it out, trying not to feel into the uncomfortableness of my world.

In these moments, I recall the words:

“Breath is the bridge which connects life to consciousness, which unites your body to your thoughts. Whenever your mind becomes scattered, use your breath as the means to take hold of your mind again.” ~Thich Nhat Hanh.

I am trying to connect my body with my mind, but my spirit wants me to go deeper than just the breath, even as much as I know it’s an excellent starting point.

Yet I am having a hard time beginning to deepen my breaths, to give away my prana, and my love.

My inability to share love, freely, is a sign that I need to search for something that is just outside my awareness, outside this feeling of trying, but not finding. Or maybe, it’s that I’ve given away so much love that I am tired, now, ready to be replenished.

For once, I’m not running away or toward any ideal, but staying put where I am, and the love that I am trying to share today.

In this uncomfortable space, I am finding love and compassion for myself at a point in my journey where I am unsure of my next steps, wondering how to bring back a skip to my step and a smile to my lips.

Love is a daily decision, and it begins with me being gentle to myself, releasing the judgment that I am bad for not having it all figured out at this point in my life.

Yes, I’ll get there, wherever there is supposed to be, but for now, I’ll blow myself a kiss, and sit with these feelings, so I may find love (for myself) all over again.

Today love is a decision made purely, selfishly for me, and only me.

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Editor: Catherine Monkman

Image: Angelito Cortez/Pixoto.