Love
No one should ever say "Of course" when it comes to love.
And if you ever say "unconditional" when it comes to love, you'd better be damn sure. And keep to it for all eternity. Because it's pretty arrogant to claim, when the person loved does not agree. When the supposed beloved feels not love - but abuse, obligation, coercion.
Because that's what unconditional takes, if you dare use that word. Not "As long as you hold to my faith." Not "As long as you obey your abusive father." Not "So long as you love me." Unconditional damn well better be a precise term, not something to keep children beholden. Really, the one loved is the only one who should be able to say "I was loved unconditionally." Otherwise, it's rather presumptive.
Love is not a damn noun. It's not an adjective, permanent and indissoluble. It's an active verb of sharing - lives and honor and compassion and admiration. Not just between lovers, but from anyone aspiring to real love.
Parents do well to keep this in mind, that children need to share their love, give and accept. Respect flows around, not just one way. Or children can almost never learn it properly, or nearly can not. Or in spite of. As I spent the first three decades guessing at what love was. Spouses need to hold out for this, to do less is worse than mere lack of love, it's manipulation.
-- -- --
I was never Catholic. I went to Catholic school, baptized in the Catholic Church, First Communion (with white dress) and Confirmation (another white dress - but ugly) but if I'd ever refused the Church, really resisted attending mass, my mother would have hectored me, then shoved me away, the love would have stopped, with her great, shared, distress. Her 'faith' mattered more than my individual self. As her image of me as "her daughter" meant much more than who I actually turned out to be. But I never believed. I made no point telling her - to save her feelings. She would never consider putting her faith aside to save mine, or her feelings aside to save mine. Wouldn't even occur to her. I felt no love in church. I felt no love in my mother's faith. Only the fear of losing what I did not - in retrospect, have anyway.
Over the years, I have tried so often to define love, but it is, like the tao, indefinable. Slippery in the presence of words. The more words used, the more we miss the point. What is easier is to define what it is not.
Love never assumes. Love doesn't present itself as "unconditional" it simply is - over decades and lifetimes. Love never blames, nor requires religious adherence, nor picks and picks. It isn't defensive nor demanding. Never jealous, nor selfish, but it doesn't tolerate being walked on either.
Love wants to keep proving itself, keeps checking that the beloved feels loved, eagerly pours more love all over the place, invites in more love - like flames spreading among a sea of candles as carols are sung. Love relishes a chance to grow afresh, and start again.
Love is generous and kind and never minds being asked for proof, always ready to cite sources and share. Love accepts back, with an open and appreciative heart, Love adores a whirlpool of giving, but withers in the presence of neglect, becomes poisoned when used carelessly. However passionate and sensual - prefers not to be obscene or crass. Robust with attention, it dies with neglect and presumption, devaluation and contempt.
Love is infinitely grateful, and never assumes.
And if you ever say "unconditional" when it comes to love, you'd better be damn sure. And keep to it for all eternity. Because it's pretty arrogant to claim, when the person loved does not agree. When the supposed beloved feels not love - but abuse, obligation, coercion.
Because that's what unconditional takes, if you dare use that word. Not "As long as you hold to my faith." Not "As long as you obey your abusive father." Not "So long as you love me." Unconditional damn well better be a precise term, not something to keep children beholden. Really, the one loved is the only one who should be able to say "I was loved unconditionally." Otherwise, it's rather presumptive.
Love is not a damn noun. It's not an adjective, permanent and indissoluble. It's an active verb of sharing - lives and honor and compassion and admiration. Not just between lovers, but from anyone aspiring to real love.
Parents do well to keep this in mind, that children need to share their love, give and accept. Respect flows around, not just one way. Or children can almost never learn it properly, or nearly can not. Or in spite of. As I spent the first three decades guessing at what love was. Spouses need to hold out for this, to do less is worse than mere lack of love, it's manipulation.
-- -- --
I was never Catholic. I went to Catholic school, baptized in the Catholic Church, First Communion (with white dress) and Confirmation (another white dress - but ugly) but if I'd ever refused the Church, really resisted attending mass, my mother would have hectored me, then shoved me away, the love would have stopped, with her great, shared, distress. Her 'faith' mattered more than my individual self. As her image of me as "her daughter" meant much more than who I actually turned out to be. But I never believed. I made no point telling her - to save her feelings. She would never consider putting her faith aside to save mine, or her feelings aside to save mine. Wouldn't even occur to her. I felt no love in church. I felt no love in my mother's faith. Only the fear of losing what I did not - in retrospect, have anyway.
Over the years, I have tried so often to define love, but it is, like the tao, indefinable. Slippery in the presence of words. The more words used, the more we miss the point. What is easier is to define what it is not.
Love never assumes. Love doesn't present itself as "unconditional" it simply is - over decades and lifetimes. Love never blames, nor requires religious adherence, nor picks and picks. It isn't defensive nor demanding. Never jealous, nor selfish, but it doesn't tolerate being walked on either.
Love wants to keep proving itself, keeps checking that the beloved feels loved, eagerly pours more love all over the place, invites in more love - like flames spreading among a sea of candles as carols are sung. Love relishes a chance to grow afresh, and start again.
Love is generous and kind and never minds being asked for proof, always ready to cite sources and share. Love accepts back, with an open and appreciative heart, Love adores a whirlpool of giving, but withers in the presence of neglect, becomes poisoned when used carelessly. However passionate and sensual - prefers not to be obscene or crass. Robust with attention, it dies with neglect and presumption, devaluation and contempt.
Love is infinitely grateful, and never assumes.
Labels: love
Posted by Zhoen on Friday, October 12, 2012
9 comments:
Wow, what synchronicity! I have been mulling over in my mind these last few days writing a post on the very same subject: this thing called love.
My grandson has fallen in love and is bewildered by it. I wanted to try to help him understand what he's experiencing, only to discover that I don't know what love is. I know real well what it isn't, but not the opposite.
Maybe I'll have him read your post.
Crow,
Oh, good for him, so wonderful to first try to love.
D and I promised at the beginning never to lie to each other, and never to "treat each other like shit." Not a bad place to start. Love is a process.
That's a really gritty, lovely, matter-filled meditation.
'Unconditional' is a fairly empty word to me; there will always be conditions, though they may change and vary and come and go, it's not even up to us to decide what they are. Mostly the claim to 'love unconditionally' seems to be about the ego of the person claiming to do so, which I suppose is something like you are saying.
Lucy,
I think that is an astute clarification, yes.
that just says it..."love just is"....thankyou
I don't know if anyone wants to be loved unconditionally, either. They want to be loved for what they really are, which is a hell of a condition :-)
"Oh, it turns out you're actually not Zhoen, you're our neighbor Saundra? No problem, I still love you just as much!" -- doesn't land all that well with most people :-)
Very well thought out and well expressed. Your point about acceptance being an integral part of love is an important one. Love is shallow if it cannot embrace the differences as well as the similarities.
Dale,
Indeed. It's like getting credit for love without earning it. Can't be bothered to get to know you, or like you, but I will claim I love you - unconditionally. Never could get my head around that.
ER,
Acceptance and compassion.
it's an active verb ... jup.
Post a Comment
<< Home