I don’t think I ever in my life felt more vulnerable than I do right now.
It’s an uncomfortable fog of thoughts swirling around in my brain, one that never seems to cease, even in my sleep.
But if it coalesces into a coherent treatise on the nature of love, I suppose it will be worth it.
I have been on a mission over the past two years to understand love better and love more selflessly in the process. To love as I want to be loved – not with a grasping possessiveness but with generosity. Not because I want to gain something but because I want to give.
It’s hard in part not because I’m naturally possessive (I don’t think I am) but because love is inextricably tied up in our society with gender relations and power and pride. Despite the Judeo-Christian ethics largely dictating American culture that give lip service to the notion of love as a generous act, we don’t treat it that way.
We are a grasping, materialistic, power-hungry people. And we will likely become more so under the influence of our current leadership.
And so love often becomes a power play, more about control and having than generosity and giving. That model perpetuates because it’s the only model some of us have ever known, and it rarely occurs to us to question it.
But I’m questioning it. I’ve had an excellent example to follow – a friend and mentor and possibly the first person I’ve ever met who is entirely capable of selfless love.
I haven’t always shown gratitude for his lessons. I’m stubborn and proud and rarely good at being vulnerable. And perhaps this post is as much a love letter and thank you note as it is an essay on the nature of love. Because he has always been patient with me. And as a result, he has taught me greater patience and self-confidence and compassion.
Friendship, truth, loyalty.
I falter, often, but change takes time. I consider myself something of an existential philosopher, constantly considering how best to live this one lovely life I’m given.
Love has always stood at the center of that life, the most important thing. But I’m trying to consider it in very different terms these days. As something I give without asking anything in return. As something I can experience without the physical and often arbitrary manifestations of it.
I’ll continue contemplating it and working on it and writing about it. It’s good, meaningful work, and I need some good, meaningful work in my life.