Love cannot saturate the soul without the bitter sadness that completes it. As pure unconsciousness, absolute blinding light, the dream state which is love is a form of madness akin to paranoia and addiction, to mania. It is healing and whole, yet capable of revealing, creating gaps and empty failures, rock-bottom experiences that incarnate depths of suffering beyond parallel. Love is the means of entry into the soul. We must acknowledge and admit powerlessness over its binds. It cannot be controlled and any attempts at doing so create great friction and in so doing, suffering. Love is complicated, entangling, overwhelming. It is, as Plato describes, a divine madness that escapes our attempts to shrink it down to manageable size. It brings with it past struggles and future hopes, and is loaded with conceptions that are only remotely related to the said object of love. The expectation that love will somehow make life complete is an integral aspect of the emotion, making it a sweet, bitter tragedy. It is not necessary to avoid past mistakes or learn how to be clever about love, as the only advance that we can make after being completely devastated by love, is simply to enter into it freely once again, and with complete abandon. Love is an event of the soul…it carries lovers away from earth and into the divine. From their spiritual communion, mortals are availed eternity. It is a path toward far deeper experiences of the soul. It is blindness, pure absorption. Some suggest that love is an illusion about which we should be weary, but this betrays a distrust of the soul. Love is release into the divine, a grand expansion of the soul. “To appreciate this mystery, we must abandon the idea that love is a psychological problem and that with enough reading and guidance, we can finally do it right, without illusion and folly.” To open yourself to love is to go under, to undergo whatever fate is asking of the soul. Life is wounded in its essence. Wounds are uncovered, discovered, created by participating in human life. To think that there is a natural state without wounds, without complete wholeness of organic beings is an illusion; an illusion that living, or rather, dying, within, allows us to continue existing believing that there is some way to prevent these wounds from forming, from festering. This prevents us from becoming, from entering life in it’s fullest, trying to avoid that which may bring us dis-ease and suffering. According to the ancients, particularly Buddhism as well as Christianity, life is suffering. No need to avoid life in order to avoid its wounds. Rather, life is to be embraced! Embraced with the naiveté and folly of our inherent youthfulness…give in I say, and satiate the delightful yearning of the soul. Rejoice in the utter exhilaration, the zest that is the soul engorged, the soul filled, the soul overflowing.
Posted on: Tue, 02 Dec 2014 04:57:27 +0000
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