Truth

Here are four questions that were burned into my head in May when I was admitted to The Prince Charles Hospital for a respiratory virus. I had a lot of time for introspection and one night, I came up with these ...

What is true love?

What is true religion?

What is truth?

What is your truth?

The answers were never going to be simple, and depending on what day it is or what mood I'm swinging, the questions will remain just that - questions that can only be answered in the here and now. It's about nine-thirty in the evening. My mood is calm and even, I'm a little sleepy and I have a full belly.

True love. There are endless variations of what is perceived to be 'true love'. Whenever I see those words, I visualise tattooed hearts with 'true love' written across them in some italic font. For me now - tonight even - true love is upstairs sleeping. My five year old nephew Daniel has just fallen asleep and the love one feels for a child can never be matched. It's a strange love; territorial in its maternity. It's a wilderness of contradictions.

I remember when I was nursing my youngest nephew, Samuel a few days after he was born. I came home and wrote this -

'To hold him, to have him fall asleep in your arms, is to know true love. It weighs so heavily on your heart and pulls on every feeling of innermost joy you have ever known. I get it. I understand why parents die for their children. It’s such an overwhelming pull on your core. It strips you down. You’re raw and naked and everything is as it should be.’

I'm going to refrain from answering the other three questions tonight as I don't want any of what I've thrown out into the void to lose momentum.