A nice thing…

I woke up one recent morning with these two words in my head: “More love.” I started to question it, to ask the words where they came from. They told me “Just more love.” I retraced my sleep steps, bypassing dreams I didn’t remember to land on my near sleep thoughts.

“Thoughts” might be too large a description for the flecks of consciousness that passed before my closed pre-slumber eyes. Tiny flecks… particles of imagination:

A son lying on a cot in jail… A daughter at a late night workbench, manipulating bits of metal and stone; another son riding his bike through the streets of our town, hopefully enjoying the ride… A daughter in her bed, talking with her Montana sweetheart via video chat… A grandson in bed, overseen by a hand painted “Night Narwhal” that his grandparents brought him from Austin… A husband at the kitchen table, making a list that will allow him to stop thinking and go to sleep… Friends who are far, friends near… Myself in my life, more abstract than the others, a tiny speck with a voice that says, “Keep moving forward”… And then, this morning’s first clear thought. “More love.”

Yes.

Against all my former resistance that called such notions simplistic, I am finding the most powerful response to these sad and beautiful particles is to gather them up and add more love.

A nice thing… More Love. That’s it.