Why do we love love?
Everyone loves a great love story. When two people, despite some sort of adversity, come together amidst love's embrace. We love a sense of deep connection, of belonging, of feeling at one with another being. But why? What is it about this sensation that we love so much? And why is it so agonizingly painful when it’s ripped away from us? Is it that it reflects back to us the essence of who we really are? Is it that in this world of apparent separation and independence this taste of unity and togetherness give us a glimpse of a bigger picture that is often hard to grasp from our individual perspective? Or is it simply our biology urging us to unite sexually with another for the purpose of procreation? Perhaps it is all the above? I really can’t say. I just know that for whatever reason, we love love.
What is love? Some may say it’s a sense of pure appreciation, of pure positive focus toward someone or something. But I say it’s deeper than that. It’s an intangible essence that, once grasped at, moves quickly out of reach. It defies definition and abhors captivity. It slips through one’s fingers like water in a stream. Yet it’s still there. It is simply undeniable. So what is it? I’m not so sure that there is an answer to that question that cannot be questioned itself. For love, like life, is a paradox. It is the most profound pleasure as well as the deepest pain. It is being so close yet simultaneously so far away. It is unity in the midst of total separation. It is the most beautiful curse that one could ever know. It pours through you like raindrops on a glass windowpane. It waxes and wanes like the crescent moon. It fills you up to the brim and empties you out until there is nothing left. It consumes you completely and then in an instant spits you back out again. It’s like air, all around you but impossible to see, taste, touch, or smell. It will caress you with it’s breeze at times, even annoy you with it’s power, yet it will never cater to your whims or selfish demands. It is indifferent. It cares not what you think of it, but it flows in ceaseless motion, to the beat of a divine drum. It is it’s own ally and never seeks anyone’s approval. It gives itself freely and effortlessly, asking for nothing in return. It is life itself. It is....love.
