Friday, October 21, 2011

...falling...in and out...of LOVE...

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It just occurred to me today, that we talk about "falling in love". It's rarely the tacky sounding, "feeling the love", or the wordy "experiencing love" or a simple "I love him/her/you".

First, why do we fall into it? Is it an abyss that pulls us downward? Or a mythical ocean of bliss?
Then follows my second point, if someone is out of love, that must mean that they climbed out of the abyss, or stopped swimming in an ocean of bliss.

pic credit - graur razvan ionut; freedigitalphotos.net
Where do we go when we "fall in love"? Where are we when we're "in love"? We make some very permanent choices/changes when we're in these special zones. People seem to fall out of these zones easily and the choices remain.

Then there is the celebrity sounding, "We fell in love all over again!" So we fall into the abyss/are swimming in the mythical ocean/are back in our special place again? Having left once, we're ready to run back in, to feel all there is to feel, ready to make some more choices. (And then there's Alicia Keys song about "I keep on falling in and out...of love...with you!" Gosh that must be tiring!)

And about those choices. I wonder if that's why we fall in love. Perhaps it moves us toward doing definitive things that alter our landscape completely. Things that need the extra energy/heat/charge to happen. That extra unifying energy that propels us toward some soul mission, without which, our existence could truly be about our next latte/pedicure appointment/bake sale. Nothing wrong with all that. Even that needs a fueling spark.

From the many scientific/deeper philosophical/esoteric explanations, there are centers activated from feeling that ocean tide of emotion. I wonder if that makes us braver, more certain and enables us to live with more faith.Where does that initial spark come from? The thing that makes us fall/swim in love?

Could it be that we fall into our purpose? Something about the person we behold, that makes us believe that they'll lead us to where we need to go? Is it our purpose sort of resonating with the other person's purpose? Corny, I know. But still. So both identify a way to fulfill some deep mission, and perhaps that awareness is the first step toward "falling in love."

So when we're out of love, as per my hare-brained, sleepless at midnight theory, we've lost our purpose? When the purpose for remaining in that ocean of bliss/abyss is gone? And so we extricate ourselves, trying to find another person/self ignite that spark? But then what about those many choices and little lives? What do they do once our purpose has ceased to exist? What happens to their mini-purposes that trustingly took shape in proximity to us?

So when people say, I love you but am not in love with you, they don't want to be in that blissful ocean/abyss together anymore. They want another swim buddy. With their not so special partners, they want to merely hang about on the shore, like they would with the rest of their "loved ones."

I am writing another book, and of course, people fall in love. And that made me stop and think about what on earth must happen to us all at some point or the other. We throw caution to the wind and grow into ourselves, I suppose.

It also makes me wonder, how such a wild emotion can be curbed within the confines of relationships decreed as legal/proper/binding by civilized society? And if it stays curbed, how strong was it to begin with?

It's certainly worth every moment, at least to me. I can't imagine that the prospect of having to swim to shore/climb out of an abyss should keep any of us from reaching our invisible purposes with a loved one. Kind of like not eating because you're going to be hungry anyway, tomorrow. Or giving up on life because we're all going to die anyway.

So from that it must follow, that falling out of love must be expected, and our time on the shore, that will be loving, must be a break before another glorious swim. And our time on the shore is fortified by the memory of bliss.

I could finally be losing my marbles. But at least I get to say this!

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Sunday, October 16, 2011

Unreal Beauty

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Beautiful world has a hold on me
pic credit - Mindy McGregor; freedigitalphotos.net
Sleepy journey into bliss sets me free
Struggle to hold on, hold on to peace
People, sights and sounds tantalize, tease.

Do I wear red, blue, yellow, another hue?
My best friend, a diamond, they sell it true
Wouldn't want a friend so cold and hard
Blood spilled to fuel their spark, spirit charred.

Art, spiritual expression, oft a mockery
Admire the intention, the product trickery
Wars, fights for justice, easily flipped reason
Any where you turn, every argument a treason.

Enjoyment artificial, a wreath
on free spirited creativity, stifled breath
Yet hope is seductive, beckons,
Beautiful life captivates, even for just seconds.

Memory of fleeting truth and beauty
Strong persuader, call to duty
Duty to love, trust and believe
Remain unspoiled, and somewhat naive.

So I come back, charmed and jaded world,
still more mysterious than peace unfurled
Grabs me at once, unloving, handcuffs in gold
Want to run, again, now, to escape it's hold.

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Sunday, October 9, 2011

My dream-life

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pic credit - Kenneth Cratty; freedigitalphotos.net
There are these dreams that I have where the colors are so vivid, and I seem to be part of the dream in every way, that reality becomes the story. I've had difficulty reorienting myself after waking up.

There was the dream of a friend eating a really ripe, green fruit. She wore green too. The strangest part of the dream was watching these bunch of girls, all in green, eating that really ripe fruit.There was fruit juice all over the place. I couldn't fathom why it was so vivid. And really, why on earth I couldn't stop talking about it. Him had an evil glint in his eye when I told him. His eyebrows danced and he said, "Out with it. What did you really dream about?"

It escaped me, for a moment, what he meant. Then I realized that it was some ribald thought and ignored him.

Still I brought it up again, and he looked wearily on and said, "Okay, so these girls ate a really ripe fruit. Maybe you saw an avocado ad. Maybe you read about breadfruit."

"I did not read about breadfruit, and I don't believe that it can get ripe and drippy. And no, those fruits didn't look like avocados either."

But I wonder if these are the figment of an overactive imagination, the product of an over active mind or something more.

Then there are my constant dreamland companions. Snakes. Only these were very fashion forward. Slithering all over my living room, in black and orange, black and green, and black and blue stripes. They seemed at ease, moving along gracefully, hundreds of them in my living room, while I was frozen in fear. Mini-Him, in my dream, seemed at ease, pulling out fangs from a black and orange snake. I ran to my...mother?! Screaming about snakes and Mini-Him's callous ease.

She turned about, smiling benignly, and handed me a snake.

I remember sitting bolt upright, panting for breath.

It's all that's occupied my thoughts for days. There was also the dream about flying, in blue skies, so alive that I could feel the wind and moisture in my face.

Him is now shaking his head, hopelessly, saying, "Babe, let it go! People have all kinds of dreams. It's all stuff from your own mind. There's no big meaning mumbo-jumbo to it."

Mini-Him, drawing a picture of a mutant wolf-snake being preyed on by a mutant man-eagle said, "Yeah. It's just your imagination. It's no big deal. There's no message in there, Mom!!"

I'm stubbornly convinced, that there's something to this whole dream thing. All the websites with dream interpretation make me feel a little silly when I go through them. But there's something to the intensity of what ever is going on in my unseen universe, that has my antennae all abuzz.

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