I wish to talk today about what it means, to be in love. What it is, what it looks like, what it’s about. This magical, mysterious thing that happens to every human, likely many times over in any one lifetime.
Let us first get out of the way the obvious. And that is the physicality of it. I don’t wish to talk of this first because I think it of no consequence, but because I think rather that we at many times and in many way don’t do justice to this aspect of love; we try to diminish it, as though to be physical, or to enjoy that which is so, is somehow beneath us, lacking in true goodness or unworthy of reverence; as though we are in some way disconnected from our physical selves. I think this is foolishness. And certainly, love is, in part at least, a physical thing, and to fall in love a bodily experience. It makes the knees weak, the hands shake, speeds up the pulse and confounds one’s thinking. In many and likely most cases, falling in love is precipitated first by the physical. It may be their eyes; the shape of their limbs and the way their body moves; the colour of their hair, and how it falls about their shoulders; the wrinkles on their face that show up when they smile; the sound of their laugh; how they use their hands when they talk; the thoughtful expression they wear when considering a question. These are all real and valid reasons for falling in love, all worthy and beautiful in their own right, and by no means ought we to discard them as things below true love and affection. This is simply a reality of falling in love — though not the only reality or the sole propellent.
I mention these things and emphasize their strength because we are tempted to dismiss them and throw them away. Why? Because quite simply almost none of those things listed above will last forever, and not a one of them has what is necessary on its own to sustain a lasting and fruitful relationship. Not on their own, no, but together with other things, they are powerful indeed. These other things are often harder to explain or understand, and maybe seen as more practical and long-lasting. Less apparent at first glance, they require a keener gaze and more concerted search to uncover, and as a consequence of being buried so deep they are often of greater value than surface level treasures, treasures though they may be. Things of what we would call character; a joyful spirit; a determined will; a passion for life well-lived; a deep inner joy, which effects all areas of life; a selfless attitude and generous disposition; a hopeful perspective; a spirit of faithfulness; a desire for truth, and strength enough to seek it out; patience in discomfort; love for those who struggle, and a desire to be a help. These things are not worn on the surface where they can be easily or quickly noticed. They are qualities of the inner person, and they define a man or woman more than the body they are housed within can on its own.
The first things are of value, but the second are of still greater worth. The first things do however draw one in initially, and it would be silly to deny so. Yes, the appearance of beauty attracts the attention, but the truth of it keeps one’s eyes fixed. A rose by any other name may smell as sweet, but if the rose had no outer virtue of which to boast, how many of us would come close enough to smell its fragrance?
A peculiar thing happens though, when once a person is drawn in by appearances and yet seeks long enough to uncover the deeper things. For then even that which is without takes on the greater beauty of that which is within. Conversely, an inner stench, once discovered, will spoil even the most alluring outward charm. The rose that smelled of sulfur would none of us keep. And yet, the thorny branch that inside is all sweetness, though its hardness and potential for hurt increase with age, so long as within its heart it remains good and growing, this thing we should hold tightly to.
Perhaps you tire of the metaphors. You needn’t worry, as I’m running short on them anyway. But I hope you remember their message. To fall in love is dangerous indeed; for while the outer beauty which at first attracts our notice will last for a time and be wonderful to hold and behold, if the soul to which it is attached is hard and unkind, we may well find ourselves in love with one undeserving. Not because of any true fault of theirs, any ugliness of soul that they have asked for; many of us have wounds we are unaware of, and have allowed them to make us cold, greedy and irritable, prone to pain and even expectant of it, so that those who would do us the most good we drive away with unkindness and negligence. These souls are to be pitied, and loved. But to love in such a way that you become broken even as the thing that you desired to save, this is unwise. To love another you must love yourself.
Beware of falling in love. Powerful, dangerous, life-giving and destructive thing that it may be, beware of it. The greatest hurt and the greatest hope will come from it, and which of the two comes to you no one can tell. Many times they go together, goodness and struggle, pain and growth. And I pity the one who falls in love while ignorant of this potential. The potential for heaven, and for hell in the same person. All of us carry a bit of both in our hearts. But I do hope the one you love has more of the former.
Maybe the things I write have more of poetry than practicality in them. But I think there are some things for which formulas and fixatives will never be adequate. As the blood in our veins is more than liquid, so the words we speak can be more than language. In all honesty, it is among my greatest ambitions to be such a man — one whose life communicates what language could never say, from whom a glance brings a smile, and a smile brings laughter. I want to inspire love. That is what I want.
with love,
Joel