Transience, love and it's expanse
One of the most influential books I’ve read about love is a book called Hold me tight by Dr. Sue Johnson. Her concept’s quite simple, but it’s been illustrated through a myriad of stories, situations and couples.
I won’t tell you more. I’ll let you interpret it the way you please. But I’ll only tell you that I’ve seen it work. If there’s anything remotely love like you’ll do today, I’d say pick up a copy of this book.
A couple once told me that they start each day with a hug and saying “I love you”. They said it was their secret for being in love. Today, love seems awfully complicated, yet simple gestures such as these remind you of how simple love can also be.
Love is simple
It was the summer of 2003. I was supposed to train for this big national level test. But I wanted to go play basketball instead. You see, there was a player (no pun intended) who I had a huge crush on.
I don’t remember how I felt not acing that test, but I definitely remember how I felt when this boy told me how he felt about me. I was so scared because I’d felt nothing like it before.
What a wonderful feeling it was.
It’s not something I think about often. In fact, not at all. Yet these are tucked away in nooks of my memory that I never knew existed; only to be awakened by certain songs or vague scents.
Love is little bit like that. It’s the little things that matter, and stay on with you much longer than you expect to keep them around, if we’re lucky.
But the problem is, we are greedy.
We want these memories to simmer endlessly through our being forever. We seek permanence.
But love is not permanent
In fact, nothing is. So why do we even bother?
We are obsessed with a certain idea of love - where love is single sourced or that one person will satisfy the entirety of our needs for the rest of our lives. May be it’s conditioning, may be it’s media sensationalism. I don’t know.
In a modern society that is becoming increasingly nuclear, we’re transferring the burden of our emotional fulfilment from an entire village onto one human being.
It is fact.
Marriage brings awareness to this fact every now and again. Sometimes, you accept it. Sometimes you panic. But you can’t escape the fact, especially once you’ve come face to face with it.
Your codependence scares you. Not being in control scares you. Out of fear, you start to branch out. You depend on your career. You depend on your kids. You depend on your friends. You explore open marriage.
But the fear doesn’t go.
The fear is an outcome of your belief that love is single sourced.
It’s not.
That’s the fact.
But it’s not a fact for people who’ve never been married.
When you’re not married, its easy to believe that love is single sourced, and that it is embodied by this creature called soulmate, and that you will find yours, unlike your bitter friend with their less than perfect spouse.
It’s an illusion.
I was out with a bunch of friends last night, and someone complained about too much “zoning out” on dating apps.
Zoning out - our collective inability to engage and stay engaged.
Yes, it is a real problem.
But is it?
Wait, we were never designed for this sort of engagement. So, what are we doing pretending as if we were? No?
So, next time you are on a dating app, and you get “zoned out”, ask yourself one thing - is this the sort of experience that you are able to accept? If yes, stay on. If not, leave and never come back. Navigating dating apps isn’t a life skill. But navigating relationships is. Just so you know.
What day is it today?
It’s Valentine’s day.
So what?
Well it’s another opportunity to say “I love you”.
Okay, I’ll take that.
What I am reading/ watching/ listening to:
How to feed a dictator by Witold Szablowski: this is a fascinating book about cooks of dictators from across the world. It’s really quite amusing to learn what was being cooked in homes where wars were being plotted.
Shapely Gal song: Blinding Lights by Lucas Estrada and Twin Ray