love is.
October 1, 2009
three things happened this week that have got me musing a lot on that one thing everyone seems to have an opinion about:
love.
poets paint metaphors with it, fairies spin tales about it…and yet. as it is likely the most common theme in art, i am finding myself painfully drawn to it as well: the idea of love, the meaning of love…and of course, the experience of love.
love is an experience, is it not? one that carves its initials into the walls of our heart, ever reminding us of its caress…and its sting? we never forget. or we inhale the wisps of smoke of what it is “supposed” to be – fed to us in books and films…and this drives us to take risks, to build or sever bridges, to make art.
your experience of love is yours. mine is mine. which makes me question…
love.
what is it? sure, i could spit out other people’s words on the topic but instead i choose to draw out the magician’s scarves from my mouth, letting myself be surprised by each color that comes next…awed by the length of it all.
let’s start with the three things that kick-started this muse this week:
1. i was looking at online photos from a recent wedding between two of my friends. i was drawn into the beauty of the images shared, the smiles leaping off the screen, the joy that seeped beyond the edges of each frame. eventually it hit me. i was witnessing love – moving beyond the digital pixels, traveling through electronic space and it was able to reach through the colors and deliver an electric shock. my heart felt it. and soon, all over, i was smiling too. my personal feelings about wedding + marriage aside, the love flowing in and through and out of these photos made it real to me in a way i haven’t experienced before.
2. i watched a film today – the title of which is irrelevant as the story is what matters. perhaps you’ve heard it before? it is about love lost + found again…it is about how and when we let ourselves give space for change…and therefore ultimately for love. love happens when we take risks. when we step outside of the mundane and offer possibility a seat at the table. as the credits rolled, i began to wonder if this was true… and i’m sure you know exactly which film it was…
3. tonight. i spent a long extended time on the phone with one of my closest friends, initially to discuss a mini pre-midlife crisis (as she coined it) that she has been going through, but instead, i ended up monopolizing the airspace with my recent adventures in dating, connection and emotional vulnerability – with one person in particular. as i talked about my fears, my fierce hold on distrust…words slipped past my lips uncensored that made me stop: “being open to love is fucking hard…”
wait, what? i said, love?
yup, i said love. this indefinable and highly contestable word that too many ballads are written about, is actually, really what i am looking for. for too long i have eschewed this journey for fear of being a cliché. i have shut down my heart, closed off my body, and kept lovers (and potential lovers) at (several) arms lengths away because i believed that love had become too dangerous of a playing field. for me. my experiences of love had offered me up platters of scars, trauma and disappointment…and that was what has been leading (or hindering) my game all these years since.
as we talked and i remembered the wedding photos and the many ways that the pursuit of love tells stories in art + film, i began to loosen my grip on fear and let in a little bit more of my truth: despite my past – or perhaps in spite of my past, i am craving love. intimate, messy, unexpected, dirty love.
admittedly, it has been many years since i have been “in love” with another person. i crave it yet fear it…and as i begin to really open up my heart and self to someone again, i have to wonder, can it really happen again? will i allow myself enough space and patience for it to enter in?
as my breath shortens and my chest closes in, i try to take a deep breath and say yes, i do want this.
love.
in all of its forms.
even if i’m still not sure what exactly it is.
