Coyote's Canyon Journal

"Now I see the secret of the making of the best persons. It is to grow in the open air and to eat and sleep with the earth." -- Walt Whitman, Song of the Open Road

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Location: Canyon State of Mind, United States

I enjoy writing. I don't actually make a living with my English degree, so I keep a blog for fun. The blog is first draft, and as a former editor I apologize for any weird errors that may be present. I do not apologize for writing about things that matter to me. Thanks for reading.

Saturday, September 24, 2005

Love > all.

I can't believe I'm going to write about this in my blog. But I must say something after writing about the "Abu Ghraib" love thing--ugh--because I could NOT be in love and still do bad things that are repulsive and just plain WRONG. Love is not an excuse for bad behavior; it's shameful to even use love as a reason in that case. But if you are ignorant of the subject, or confused about its feelings...well I can understand. But, in any case, here is where I stand on the subject.

What is love, exactly? I used to think I knew; now, I am not so sure. I try to understand why I feel the way I do when I feel love and there is no explanation. I enjoy pondering this, and in a perverse way, I also enjoy knowing I'll never have an adequate explanation of the word. I enjoy the mystery of love, and I love knowing that I may never know all there is to know about love.

Is love a committment? Because you can be committed to a job or a child's care, but is that love? Is love sex? You can have all kinds of that, but I can't see how love is part of sex for the most part, with a few fleeting exceptions. Romance fills that in to an extent, but after being married for awhile, that goes away and the mundane parts of life take over.

Is love putting up with the things you don't like about someone so you can have the things you do like? Perhaps; or it may be really knowing someone and knowing their faults, and wanting them around anyway. That could be dangerous if their faults were say, meth use or serial killing. I don't have those issues, mercifully. So many people equate love with just being wanted, and that is not healthy.

I think I know what a part of love is after writing all this out. Love is a decision. I think lust you cannot choose. It hits you and you have to deal with it however your life's circumstances direct. But love...you choose to love. You decide that a person is worth a higher level of esteem than your friendly neighbor or the mail man. When you feel love, you are recognizing some part of yourself. Maybe the person you love is in fact a better part of yourself that you can truly appreciate without narcissism.

No matter what kind of love you are in, it is worthy of feeling. Whether it is for a family member or friend, keep that love as a precious commodity, something of value that is an indication of your values and your greatness. Maybe love is the thing that connects everyone, the great "I am"--and we just don't have a great enough word for it. Although, love isn't that bad a word for such a thing, after all. And those connections that are greater with certain people, for whatever reason, are perhaps what love really is when all the other stuff is stripped away: simply a stronger connection.

This was all very complex and pointless, except to allow me some small measure of catharsis about the nature of love and how it mystifies and charms me. When I was younger I was sure that when I was older I would know exactly what love was about, but the old "the more you know the less you really know" thing applies with love just as much as it applies to just about everything else in life. It's one of those "unseen" things that are so great a part of what a person truly is outside of their physical body. So I'm stuck with the great mystery of love, which at this point in my life, has me completely drawn into its interesting left turns and adventurous two-lane scenic byways. I love a good mystery...and an unplanned road trip.

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