The Gift of Receiving

I've been thinking about what it means to receive. To really, simply...receive. To sit with. To be with. To allow.
Without immediately thinking of how to pay it forward. Or considering who would benefit from it more. To receive...fully. That maybe just maybe the moment...the rest...the space is a gift. A gift just for me. No one else. No strings attached. Love is giving, yes. And love in its truest form, when it's abundant, oh it flows and overpours! It serves. It rises. It is boundless. Yet, it must be received. I must accept the gift.
Like, can we please accept a compliment without immediately finding something to compliment the other person on? Or belittling it? Imagine this. Imagine you in your most loving self created the most thoughtful and inspired gift. You offer it with no desire but to make your loved one happy. You offer it because you love them. You offer it because you celebrate them. You offer it because you're excited to share a piece of your heart with them. And as you beam with joy to share your offering with them, your loved one says, "Actually, Sarah could use this more. Thanks though" and immediately passes it along.
I've been taught (either through a religious frame or as a conditioning in gender norms) that "To give is to receive," but I don't think that's the full story. Receiving is a gift of love, too. A beautiful and powerful gift. One that allows love to be shared. We deserve love just because we exist. We deserve rest just because we exist. We deserve to receive...
Just
Because
We
Exist.
I hope you receive the peace you deserve.
I hope you receive the rest you deserve.
I hope you receive the love you deserve.
Receive. Simply receive.