I’ve been thinking about a way to conceptualize love. It is tricky because it is both something that is and something that you do. It is a culmination of feelings that you have for other people, for yourself, and for some things. We receive it, give it, and are compelled by it.
Alongside this blog, I have a journal that I am using to help keep track of my thoughts about the topic. I am not wrestling with a solution; to come to some kind of fixed definition about love is to tame it in some way, and that does not seem like the right thing to do. I am much more interested in living in it, with it, and through it. To be clear, this is not about loving someone although relationships are often a consequence of love. This is about trying to reach a higher self. For this reason, I have decided to go with Khalil Gibran’s writings on love from his legendary book, The Prophet.
There is not much to be said here, but there is much to think about, so I will let Gibran do the rest of the “talking:”
Then said Almitra, Speak to us of Love.
And he raised his head and looked upon
the people, and there fell a stillness upon them
And with a great voice he said:
When love beckons to you, follow him,
Though his ways are hard and steep.
And when his wings enfold you yield to him,
Though his voice may shatter your dreams
as the north wind lays waste the garden.
For even as love crowns you so shall he
crucify you. Even as he is for your growth
so is he for your pruning.
Even as he ascends to your height and
caresses your tenderest branches that quiver
in the sun,
So shall he descend to your roots and
shake them in their clinging to the earth.
Like sheaves of corn he gathers you unto
He thrashes you to make you naked.
He sifts you to free you from husks.
He grinds you to whiteness.
He kneads you until you are pliant;
And then he assigns you to his sacred
fire, that you may become sacred bread for
God’s sacred feast.
All these things shall love do unto you
that you may know the secrets of your
heart, and in that knowledge become a
fragment of Life’s heart.
But if in your fear you would seek only
love’s peace and love’s pleasure,
Then it is better for you that you cover
your nakedness and pass out of love’s
Into the seasonless world where you
shall laugh, but not all of your laughter,
and weep, but not all of your tears.
Love gives naught but itself and takes
naught but from itself.
Love possesses not nor would it be
For love is sufficient unto love.
When you love you should not say
“God is in my heart,” but rather, “I am
in the heart of God.”
And think not you can direct the course
of love, for love, if it finds you worthy,
directs your course.
Love has no other desire but to fulfil
But if you love and must needs have
desires, let these be your desires:
To melt and be like a running brook
that sings its melody to the night.
To know the pain of too much tenderness.
To be wounded by your own understanding
And to bleed willingly and joyfully.
To wake at dawn with a winged heart
and give thanks for another day of loving;
To rest at the noon hour and meditate
To return home at eventide with gratitiude;
And then to sleep with a prayer for the
beloved in your heart and a song of praise
upon your lips.