I'm sat in bed with a cup of piping hot Lemsip and after a month of hecticness, I have decided to break my blog silence. I'm afraid you'll have to excuse my regularity, or indeed lack of regularity, of which I have been producing these blog postings. I have, however, got extenuating circumstances in the form of new job and as such I have been much engaged getting to grips with that. I have thought about writing this month almost every day. However because time has been a little tight I knew that whatever subject I chose I would not be able to do it justice. I have also rediscovered a desire to read almost constantly in my free time and have curiously found myself declining a social outing in favour of a good book and a cup of tea. Sadly, neither of these things have led to me writing. These things are neither relevant nor I doubt of any interest to you, so instead of continuing with my pointless explanation, I will make a start.
I want to talk to you about love. Aha, I think I may have at last got your attention. That's right, I want to talk to you about love. Such a broad, vague word. A word which when used in one context can relay the most powerful of human emotions, yet when used in another can merely describe a tepid like for an innate object. I do not, however, want to discuss the meaning of the word love in detail. That is a subject way beyond my understanding, as I am only one person with limited experiences (both in the human context and the innate object context). I do however know what the word love means to me. I believe the subject has entered my mind today primarily because I am bored and ill. I think for this reason the things or people I love or have loved spring to mind more readily because when you're ill you want them more. In short, I'm feeling a tad lonely.
I think in order to continue I need to stress that I understand that my dissection of a word and the feelings of that word are based wholly on my own experiences and will in no way reflect you. the reader's, ideas. Nevertheless it's nice to get the grey matter working and as such I have divided the word love into four types, or categorised them if you like. There are more, I am sure. However the four listed below are those which I consider the most relevant to me. It would be a fair question to ask why I want to discuss love and what it means, and sadly I have no deeper answer other that it's something I have been thinking an awful lot about recently.
Love in the Context of a Lover
Love in this context has never been something I have ever been completely comfortable sharing, verbally or physically. I've told approximately two women in my life that I have loved them, one when I was hungover and never meant, and the other whom I thought I was deeply in love with. The latter of which I have now not seen, spoken to, or texted for over five years, and the chances are I never will do. I think love in this context is what people most associate when the word is used; to me this is certainly the case. It can be the most heart-wrenching, draining, saddening thing, yet the most satisfying and purest form of love. It is the type of love which makes you want to dedicate your live to someone, unequivocally. It is also quite frequently mistaken (in my opinion) for lust. I have read many books that depict love and romance, but when sitting down to write this it's Shakespeare's sonnet 116 (below) that comes to my mind most prominently. Why? Simply because, unlike Hollywood's notion of love, Shakespeare captures something more true and often absent from films. Love is not fickle and love is not fleeting. It is not something which, sadly and inconveniently for anyone who has been wronged, that can be switched off.
Let me not to the marriage of true minds
Admit impediments. Love is not love
Which alters when it alteration finds,
Or bends with the remover to remove:
O no! it is an ever-fixed mark
That looks on tempests and is never shaken;
It is the star to every wandering bark,
Whose worth's unknown, although his height be taken.
Love's not Time's fool, though rosy lips and cheeks
Within his bending sickle's compass come:
Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks,
But bears it out even to the edge of doom.
If this be error and upon me proved,
I never writ, nor no man ever loved.
When thinking about this sonnet, I wonder whether I have ever really been in love at all. I wonder whether the rules in which society operate, where divorce is rife, will allow it. I mean how can you truly get to the "edge of doom" when it is easier to walk away long before that point? This is not a dig at divorce or marriage or even society but instead a observation, all be it a slightly cynical one. One day perhaps I'll understand it a lot better, at least I hope I will. There are after all a lot of very happily in love people, so I can't pretend that one day happening to me would be exceptional. Well lets hope not anyway!
Love in the Context of a Friend
Sure, I've (and slightly embarrassingly so) told a few mates in the pub from time-to-time that I've 'loved' them, but in retrospect and in the cold hard, sober light of day, it was perfectly feasible that I'd been a little hasty. However I do love some of my friends, just possibly not all the ones I tell I do when I'm drunk. I believe the ancient Greeks call this kind of love agape, the kind of love formed without sexual attraction.
I have many acquaintances, friends who I enjoy immensely. I do not however feel this type of love for many. To me, in this context, I think to qualify for this kind of love you are most importantly not a friend of circumstance. If you can keep a friend located on the other side of the country or in some cases the planet, they are probably a good friend and more likely to fit into category. These people you rely on. They help, I believe, to define your life and I hope in most cases in positive way. I also don't subscribe to the notion that people not in contact regularly cannot be close. Frankly that's rubbish; some of the most precious people I know I don't speak to for months on end,. However when we do do speak, conversation is never labored (worth mentioning that I have many good friends who I see almost ever day as well). It seems an obvious comment to make but people who help you probably are candidates for this kind of love. Friends that inspire are also fitted in this section.
This is a very overlooked source of love. Possibly another reason for choosing this topic, this month, is because I have a good friend moving to Australia at the end of the year. A great great friend, but as a consequence of him moving away our contact will be diminished pretty substantially. Maybe, all I'm really trying to say with this kind of love is don't take it for granted. It's less obvious than the first type, and also more easily withdrawn. Value and treasure, when appropriate, and if possible acknowledge without the aid of alcohol.
Love in the Context of Things
What do I mean here? I love my car, I love my bike, I love my house, I love chocolate. Generally, dictionaries describe love in terms of 'things' as something close to a "Whole-hearted liking for something". I'm not sure why the word 'like' can't be substituted for the word 'love' if that is the case. Love seems like a slightly over-the-top verb to use for, for example, chocolate. However if the dictionary definition above is to be believed, and I'm inclined to say it is, then I guess peoples' popular use of the word is correct. Personally I don't think this is really love, instead just a poor use of a vocabulary. I do it myself, in fact I'm not really sure I know anyone who doesn't, but nonetheless the extensive use of any word can lead to it being worthless. Just something to think about.
Love in the Context of Places
For me this is really an extension of the love of things. The same rules apply but, unlike with things, I think this love is more genuine, possibly because it doesn't involve anything physical or tangible. The love of the car has almost a sense of materialism about it, which is not the case with a place. A love for a place is all about the feeling, and what is love but a feeling.
I know, I've not really explained anything particularly revolutionary in this article, discussed anything of value or enriched the reader's life. I apologise for that, but it has been something mulling around in my brain for some time and I wanted to get it down on paper.
What can I say, I 'Love' to write.
