What We Do For Love

I found this plaintive cry during a trip to Paris a while back. Interestingly, it was written in English. I had to wonder if some American exchange student, feeling lonely, sat down on the steps at Sacré-Cœur and looked out over the grandeur that is Montmartre , and thought--I am feeling unloved and alone. Where are my people? Where is my Parisian lover? Maybe I should have taken a French class before this trip. Why can't I afford anything in this godforsaken city? 

And where are the cool kids? 

I would guess that within twenty-four hours of writing LOVE ME on this wall, our poor soul found his friends, his peeps, a cheap (but delicious) croissant and maybe even love.

Isn't that what we're all really after? Love.

What happens when we admit that we want to be loved? It seems kind of obvious, but also kind of embarrassing. But, I wonder if we were all to simply admit that everything we do--we do for love. Even the bad things, the inappropriate things, the power-grabbing things, the ill-advised things. Think about--if you scratch the surface (okay, in some cases get a big old excavator and dig into the concrete that is the subconscious)--well, I think you'll find that basically we're all after the same thing. 

And that thing is love.

Creative Friends--your assignment for you this week is to ask yourself what you do for love. If it's not bringing you love, then reconsider what you're doing. And if it does bring you love? 

Well, then do more of that.

Love,

Jamie

                                            (As seen at Zumba class this week)