Love is…

Le Baiser de l'Hotel de Ville, Paris, 1950 by Robert Doisneau
Le Baiser de l’Hotel de Ville, Paris, 1950 by Robert Doisneau

On this Valentine’s Day, I feel the need to talk about love. Love is…well I should probably let you, the reader, finish that, because what do any one of us know about it ? And my definition will not necessarily fit yours and vice versa. You see, for me, it is an ideal and like all ideals, it often times causes heartbreak and emotional destruction for those who choose to pursue it. And like all ideals, the very pursuit of it can give your life meaning and motivation you wouldn’t have otherwise. So where does that leave us ? I honestly don’t have an answer – I just know I have witnessed it and felt the heartbreak and destruction and the great happiness and euphoria that comes along with it. Without it or a vision of this most potent of our four letter words, I think it becomes damn near impossible to wake up in the morning and face this ephemeral thing we call modern day life. I wish it for everyone in the world, even my enemies, because within it exist the seeds of possibility of change. Sometimes, I don’t use it lightly and other times I can’t say it enough. There have been times when I have cursed its after effects and other times when I have fallen to my knees in gratitude of its existence. I can’t define it any more than you can, but I know I wouldn’t even be alive and breathing right now,at this very moment,if other people in my life hadn’t felt it or were not now currently feeling it. Regardless of any particular religious belief, it transcends the grave and our perceptions of time, thereby making it the most powerful source of energy we could ever encounter. If it seems like I am rambling on with this post, blame that on it too, because that is what it does to me sometimes as well – count it as just an expression of my love for you, my reader. Love and peace to all of you, one and all.


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