We see love as a coming together. A uniting. And that, of course, is true. As an end result.
But what is the nature of love? (Don’t worry, I’m not really expecting an answer – yet…)
I’m pretty sure that love isn’t what most of the notions about it flying around in the world describe. In particular, I’m certain that the idea of love as a process whereby we are completed by somebody else is not only wrong, it’s quite dangerous.
The feeling that we have when we are ‘met’ by someone. When we are actually seen for who we really are and loved by the person who sees us, is a very potent feeling and one that can delude us into thinking that it is this process that calls us into being in some way. That isn’t true.
We are whole and discrete units unto ourselves. Nobody outside of us – not our lovers or friends or children or even our parents (and to be honest they might come closest) can fill the gaps or substitute for the parts of ourselves we need to grow in order to be whole. This belief that somewhere there is someone – or indeed something (money, drugs, sex, success) – that can effect our ‘completion’ puts this necessary step out of our own control.
It isn’t only that this approach to love isn’t a nice, modern or independent idea, it’s more that it can’t work. This approach is more likely to result in an unhealthy hybrid outcome – an entity made from borrowed and mismatched pieces rather than a beautiful and healthy relationship that can function as a powerhouse and engine of change and good and growth for all those involved.
So the first step towards love is separateness. I have to see my separateness and become who I am and find ways to fill my own lacks and you have to do exactly the same and then we can come together. Once we are sure we are separate we don’t suffer from jealousy or domination or the need to be in control.
When we are children the situation is complex vis a vis our togetherness and our separateness and just as we are growing physically we are also growing in this way. We start off being attached, literally, to another person and our journey through childhood is a journey of separation and detachment as well as a myriad other things.
But once we are adults – regardless of the childhood that has created us – we are separate. When we are adults, if a person we love leaves we will be sad, we may even be distraught but we won’t be broken – because we can’t be. They weren’t completing us – no matter what it felt like. At best, they were papering over the cracks and that might not be great but when your heart is broken and you’ve been abandoned, one way or another, there is comfort in knowing that whatever else has happened no part of you has been taken away.
Because you have all the parts of yourself. Even if you can’t always see them.
The job of completion is yours and mine alone.
There’s no denying that it’s a much nicer place when we help each other to do that – and maybe that is love. Or part of love. Or a type of love.
Here are a few interesting recent blog posts on various aspects of love that might help us all in our ongoing struggle to find out exactly what this elusive, seductive essence might be.
This last post may seem an unlikely reference given the context, but I think this post graphically describes the lack of love. It isn’t just that we don’t have chocolates and flowers if we don’t have love – the consequences are much more serious than that. And sometimes we need to see clearly what something isn’t before we can understand what it is.
There are many, many more posts on this subject that I have read but can’t remember right now – if you wrote one, or know of one, please don’t hesitate to link (self-referring is positively encouraged!).