There are things that are so beautiful to me that I have a hard time thinking about them coherently. My daughter's eyes are deep blue pools of mystery. Maybe you didn't know that. Now you know.
She looks up straight into my eyes from her 30'' post and time doesn't stand still so much as become warped and strange. I see in the deep blue of her eyes tremendous courage, and not just grit your teeth courage, but the courage that literally laughs at danger. She has the courage to roll right off the changing table without flinching, crawl out of her high-chair and across the table without the slightest hesitation. Her baths are not so much about cleanliness as they are opportunities to plunge her own face beneath the water repeatedly just for the wet splashy fun of it. In her eyes there is total wonder and amazement for every new thing. When was the last time you were in total wonder and amazement?
The love she expresses to me in a simple look is tangible. I can choose to sit passively in the room with it like a fat guy in a recliner sits with his TV thinking about cracking open another Grain Belt, or I can take it in and savor it like one of Trevor's amazingly feckless caramel rolls that dance around your mouth like sensual Russian dancers until they collapses from pleasure, fall, and slide down your throat into your gullet.
I used to sit in the room with Love. Love used to bounce tennis balls off of my head just to get me to look away from the asinine computer games. Love used to kick at my shins and call me silly names just to get me to crack a smile, but I mostly ignored it. I even thought Love was driving my dick into a woman as hard and frequently as possible. It's not, by the way.
You can sit in the same room with Love for years, and I did until Love dunked me under the water so deep that I forgot my self loathing. I forgot my insecurity. Shame. Guilt. Inadequacy. I forgot my daddy issues and addictions. Love held me under the water thrashing and dieing until I forgot to not breathe, and came up choking, screaming, mostly dead, and totally clean.
My daughters eyes are pools of mystery. With her eyes she gives me an almost ceaseless stream of love. I don't just sit in the room with it. I take it in, savor it, and let it swirl around inside of me. My daughters eyes are deep blue pools of mystery. Maybe you didn't know that.
Now you know.
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