I Give Up

Every so often, maybe every couple of days, I think to myself, ‘I give up.’

I may give up on work, or writing, running, dreaming, believing, hoping — whatever.

Just now, walking out of Starbucks after running along the river in the midwinter morning haze, I gave up on love.

Bono says “Love is blindness.” Elton John says “Love is cruel.” Pat Benatar says “Love is a battlefield.” I say love is the most agonizing, torturous, complicated and optimistic human endeavor of all.

Over and over I keep trying and trying and trying to love well, to love right, to love fully and completely and without judgment. But I fail. Or rather, we fail. It fails. Walking out of Starbucks this morning, I worried ‘Will She call? Will She come? Will She love?’ Too many questions…

So I gave up.

And then — honest to God — a golden light broke through the clouds. And flock of pigeons flew in formation before the bright sun. And a little kid went sprinting by me, just out of his frazzled mother’s grasp. And back home, I read a few great lines from books on my shelf (my favorite, a chapter entitled “Mistakes We Knew We Were Making”). And I smiled — a little at first, then it grew — and shook off the giving up.

It never lasts long. It isn’t much of a solution. It’s a momentary escape. And then I’m back: persistent, courageous, fully and completely ready, willing, and able.

So… I’m in.

Are you?

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