When my teacher told meEverything we love canand will be taken from us,I did not know how shewas preparing in mea synaptic path.I understood her wordsin the way one understands a journeyby reading a map.Now, ten years later, with every breathI travel this path of lossas so many others have before me,and yet there is no trail, no signposts,no destination, and the path changes directionfrom moment to moment.But the path does not feel foreign.Every turn of it is paved with truth—Everything we love can and will be taken from us.Those words now offerthe strange comfort of prophecyas I wander these trails of impermanence,stunned with gratitude even as I weep,alive with loving what doesn’t last,astonished by the enormity of love—how love is the red thread that pulls us through,not a thread to follow,but a guide that never, ever leaves the path.
--Rosemerry Wahtola Trommer,
The Journey of Love
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