A Message on the Car

Enough with the articles. Let’s try to not paste more other people’s stuff for now…

On the way from driving my sister to a bar, I was behind a car with some bumper stickers, one which read:

“Find What You Love. Love What You Find.”

I don’t know exactly why this little sticker message has struck a chord in me. It was just a bumper sticker with a Winnie-the-Pooh sticker placed nearby it. But my mind can’t seem to let go even though I’ve seen other quotes of this theme before. In a way, this car wisdom began to act as a puzzle for me to solve for the night. I think I’m still stuck on “finding what you love” portion.

Sure, there are things that I know I love, like dark chocolate, my cat Simon, and Stephen Colbert. But obviously, this isn’t what the quote had in mind. It’s talking about our deepest loves and passions. Something that one must have to sustain oneself.  I’m not sure I’ve found such an item.

In thinking about this ‘love’ part, it suddenly made me remember a time in my life when a trusted friend said something a little related to this quote. When Robin, my friend/sociology professor, visited me at the psych hospital during visitation hours, she said to me, “You need to learn to love yourself.”

Maybe this is where I need to start in finding what I love. Unless I begin to find peace within myself, the true search for other things I may love can never really begin. The thing is, I don’t know how I go about in trying to love yourself. How does that one even know how it feels?  What do I need to do in order to get there? It sounds so easy, but for a long-time depressive, your capacity to love anything has either diminished or been tattered. Your personal connections to those warm feelings have all been disconnected. The heart has simply become just a pump there’s to keep me undead, and ceased to stand for any passions. ECT can’t just fix all that damage in a few sparks. In order to learn to love myself, there are so much repairs to be done it’s almost daunting.

But the human body and mind are not easily broken and they know often how to mend themselves. But that takes time. There’s a part in one of Kay Redfield Jamison’s book where she points out that there’s a reason why the word “patient,” like the one in a hospital, is the same as one derived from the word “patience.” When I become frustrated with myself and my mind, I often think back to this word “patient.” In learning to love myself perhaps for the first time, there’s no rush to find that love. As long as I am alive, I have that capacity to learn. By choosing death, this is what I would lose.

Find What You Love. Love What You Find.

In time, I hope I’ll find that love and then learn to keep the love.


One Comment to “A Message on the Car”

  1. that’s a touching entry. i can identify with a lot of it.

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