To Love Oneself is the Beginning of a Lifelong Romance

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To Love Oneself is the Beginning of a Lifelong Romance

Prelude: What If?

What if you were about to meet your perfect lover?
What if you knew this lover better than anyone else in the world, and this lover knew you better than anyone else?
What if you liked the same food, loved the same movies, listened to the same music, rooted for the same teams, enjoyed the same friends, were fascinated by the same books, had the same spiritual beliefs, cared about the same causes, and shared the same goals?
What if you absolutely knew you two could live together comfortably?
What if this lover always had your best interests at heart?
What if you were brought before a large door and told that, behind the door, was the love of your life?
You straighten your hair, pop a Certs, take a deep breath, open the door . . .

. . . and find yourself face-to-face . . . 

 











...with a mirror.

INTRODUCTION:
You Are Already Living with the Love of Your Life
This is a book about a myth and a taboo.

THE MYTH: In order to be complete and fulfilled, you must find one "significant other" to love. This significant other must consider you his or her significant other and love you back with equal devotion till death do you part.

THE TABOO: It is somehow unwholesome to love yourself.

In LOVE 101 I'll be challenging both the myth and the taboo. If you're not ready to have these challenged, it would be best if you stop reading now--this book will only upset you.

If, on the other hand, you have been gradually coming to the seemingly forbidden conclusion that before we can truly love another, or allow another to properly love us, we must first learn to love ourselves--then this book is for you.

The taboo that we shouldn't love ourselves is one of the silliest in modern culture. Who else is more qualified to love you than you? Who else knows what you want, precisely when you want it, and is always around to supply it?

Who do you go to bed with, sleep with, dream with, shower with, eat with, work with, play with, pray with, go to the movies with, and watch TV with?

Who else knows where it itches, and just how hard to scratch it?

Who are you reading this book with?

Who have you always lived with, and whom will you eventually die with?

And, who will be the only person to accompany you on that ultimate adventure (just think of death as a theme park with a high admission cost), while all your other loved ones are consoling each other by saying how happy you must be with God and how natural you look?

Spiritually, who is the only person who can join you in your relationship with God, Jesus, Buddha, Mohammed, Moses, Mother Nature, The Force, Creative Intelligence, or whomever or whatever you consider to be the moving force of existence?

And, who has been there every time you've had sex?anything pleasurable we see, feel, hear, touch, or taste: without our senses nothing "out there"--from movies to pepperoni pizza--would be in the least enjoyable.

So, from the sacred to the profane (and all points in between), your ideal lover is you.

Then why is loving ourselves such a taboo? Why is the notion that we need another to love (who will love us back) such an enormous myth?

In a word, control.

The self-contained, emotionally autonomous, intellectually free individual is the greatest threat to the institutions that want to control us. Those of us who refuse to act like sheep--who question authority and want genuine answers, not just knee-jerk clichs--are a pain in the gluteus maximus (and regions nearby) to those who want to rule by power rather than by providing leadership.

We see attempts to manipulate almost everywhere--in politics, religion, advertising, entertainment.

When we are programmed to "fall" for the hunk or the honey of a certain aesthetic type, and to believe that these images of sex and beauty mean "true love," then these images can be used to sell us anything from cigarettes to movie tickets. And they are, they are.

Further, when the only "moral" outcome of a romantic relationship is a till-death-do-us-part, state-licensed, church-blessed marriage, we see the fundamental forces of conformity at work. If we're all the same, we are much easier to serve--also sell to, also control.

If we're all the same--and marriage is one of the best homogenizers around--then we only need one religion, one political party: the Family Values Party. In fact, why not combine religion and government in one?

That's been the history of the world--church and state hand-in-hand, slavish conformity, and those troublemakers (ungodly and unpatriotic) who fail to shape up . . . well, there have always been ways of dealing with them.

But this book is not a political diatribe. It's a book about personal freedom--the freedom to choose the life you want, even though the powers that be think you should not do so. They know best.

Except they don't. More than half the people in this country live outside the "traditional" mama-papa-children household. It hasn't worked.

Please understand that I am not against family, marriage, children, or even romance. I am merely against the idea that we should all be herded into that mode of relating when there are viable, satisfying alternatives (which we'll explore later in this book).

There will always be people who want to get married and raise children. More power to them. The trouble arises when people who want to do something else (write, pray, save the dolphins) get married and have children because they think they should, not because they want to.

This clutters up the marriage market with unqualified players--those who would rather be training for a decathlon just don't have the same commitment to child-rearing. So, they drop out of the marriage--emotionally or entirely--and the other partner, who still wants a marriage, wonders, "What happened?"

What happened is what happens every time we are all programmed to do the same thing--those who don't really want to be there muck it up for those who do.

If a group of people were all taken to an opera one night, a rock concert the second night, the latest Woody Allen movie the third night, and an Englebert Humperdink concert the fourth, chances are that on at least one of those nights, some of the audience would be, to paraphrase S.J. Pearlman, if not disgruntled, certainly not fully gruntled.

If, on the other hand, each individual in the group had a choice to go to any, all, or none of the four, then self-selection would lead to far more gruntled audiences at all the events.

This book is about you getting more gruntled in all your relationships--especially your relationship with yourself.

You'll note I've only talked about the failure of marriage. Imagine how much more unsuccessful romance is. There are two million divorces in the United States each year. Is it fair to estimate that for every divorce there are at least ten break-ups between nonmarried romantics? If so, there are, counting the newly divorced, twenty-two million broken hearts littering the emotional landscape. There are also twenty-two million (the ones who did the dumping) who are proclaiming "Free at last!"

And yet the majority of those millions, who now have already had first-hand experience that a romantic relationship doesn't necessarily lead to a lifelong happy marriage, will again be jumping into the next acceptable pair of eyes, or thighs, that come along. "The person was the problem," they tell themselves. "If only I find the right person." Maybe it's the type of relationship that's not working. Maybe.

What does it cost us to fall for this myth that we must find another to love, and must (in the same person) find someone to love us? It costs us the loving, laughing, emotionally stable, intellectually stimulating, and physically satisfying relationship with the person perfectly qualified to be our best friend in this lifetime--ourselves.

We trade the ongoing, here-and-now, potentially vibrant, fun-filled, nurturing relationship with ourselves for some future promise of Prince Charming or Cinderella riding in on a white charger or a refurbished pumpkin, transforming our lives with True Love. That's like not eating your home-cooked food because you have been convinced that any day now (real soon), a gourmet (not just any gourmet, mind you, but your own personal star-crossed gourmet) will appear---pots, pans, leeks, and all. Am I saying you should turn the gourmet away? Not at all. Being with others, sharing with others, supporting and being supported by others are among the most fulfilling activities we can enjoy. I'm simply saying that loving oneself while loving others makes all interactions more enjoyable. Some even say that loving oneself is a prerequisite to loving others. I won't take it quite that far, but I do know loving oneself is an important part of loving others (and allowing others to love you).

When we are already loving and loved by ourselves, our desire to love and be loved by others is just that--a desire. We no longer have the burning, aching need to love and be loved. Back in my desperately seeking-another-to-love-who-will-love-me-back days, I wrote a poem:

My needs destroy the paths through which those needs could be fulfilled.

I had on my wall in letters a foot tall, the needy proclamation taken from Peter Townsend's Tommy:

SEE ME
FEEL ME
TOUCH ME
HEAL ME
Talk about an intimidating message to present to the newly met. At seventeen, my muse gave me the answer. I was sitting in a coffee shop as the sun was coming up and wrote on a paper napkin (as all poets do from time to time):

I must conquer my loneliness alone.

I must be happy with myself or I have nothing to offer.

Two halves have little choice but to join, and yes, they do make a whole.

But two wholes, when they coincide . . . that is beauty.

That is love.

It took me some time--with any number of false starts, dead ends, and dashed hopesThe Lemon Cookbook.--to get the wisdom of this edict off the napkin and into my life.

LOVE 101 is what I learned along the way. You may have a different way with different learnings, but I pray that some of my musings you'll find useful, inspiring, or amusing.

I wrote this book for myself--a collection of what I have learned about self-loving so that if I fall into a pit of self-loathing (an inevitability--what lovers don't have quarrels?), I will have these reminders to help me de-pit myself.

I hope you'll read along in my "manual on loving me" and make as much of it your own as you care to.

Self-Love vs. Romantic Love

If love is the answer, could you rephrase the question?
LILY TOMLIN

When I talk about loving yourself, what sort of love do I mean? Simply this:

Love is taking care of, with regular intervals of taking good care of, and occasional splurges of pampering.
In this book, I am merely suggesting that you take care of yourself, regularly take good care of yourself, and every so often indulge yourself in a little pampering.

This is quite a different definition of love than the one offered by the proponents of "falling in love." Their love is an emotional bungee-jump from the depths to the heights of romance. Being "in love" generally implies people have "lost themselves" in someone (or at least the illusion of what that other person comprises), are obsessed by the other person (and relishing the addiction), and are desperate for the other person to feel the same way about them.

This form of love I shall refer to as romantic love. Essential to romantic love but (thankfully) missing from self-love, is an overwhelming, all consuming lust. What sort of lust? What sort have you got?

Sexual lust? Oh, my, yes. Although it is hidden behind any number of high-sounding platitudes, the need to do the dirty deed--and do it magnificently (and often)--is central to those "in love." The need for intense physical union, each to each, that obliterates physical boundaries and hurls one to the heavens, is a high-sounding way of saying, "I've got the hots for you."

Someday we are going to be lovers. Maybe married. At the least, an affair. What's your name?

Love ain't nothing but sex misspelled.
HARLAN ELLISON

Then there is emotional lust. We want the loved one to be ours, just as we want to be fully possessed by the one we love. This emotional bonding should be so tight that not only is there no room for emotional need; there is no thought of emotional need. All needs are met, once and for all, in the mutual clutching, that is, embrace of the lovers.

The term "spiritual lust" may seem to be an oxymoron, but not in the world of romantic love. Here lovers meet, soul to soul, "and this union is a reunion with creation" (as the romantic poet in me once put it). Nothing less than God is to be found in the physical, emotional, mental, and spiritual fusion of star-crossed lovers. Being in love is not just finding a mate; it is finding a soul mate. That spiritual "other half" (or "better half") that we have been deprived of since before birth has finally, at last, thank God, been given unto us and we can finally, at last, thank God, get on with the business of temporal bliss on earth and rehearse for the eternal bliss hereafter.

The belief that the beloved is God-given also goes a long way to remove any guilt interfering with the free, unfettered, and fabulous expression of the other lusts--especially sex.

Ordinary, everyday self-love, by comparison, is gentler, easier on the physiology. What it lacks in passion, it makes up for in practicality. Where it falls short in lust, it makes up for in like. What it fails to provide in false security ("I'll take care of you until the end of time!"), it makes up for in self-esteem, self-worth, and self-reliance. What it lacks in sexual yah-yahs, it makes up for in sensual umm-umms. In learning to love ourselves in this "taking care of" way, we also learn to love others--to take care of them, to occasionally take good care of them, and every so often (when we choose) to indulge them shamelessly.

Loving others, then, becomes part of loving ourselves if, when, and as we choose.

Not that romance can't be fun. It can. So can a roller coaster.

It's when we confuse the ride with real life or use it to make choices that have nothing to do with roller coasters that we get into trouble. As Stephen Sondheim put it, "the net descends."

Let's say we love the roller coaster and all the endorphins and adrenalin it produces. That doesn't mean that we should ever consider living on the roller coaster, or try to combine a roller-coaster life with career seeking, tranquility, or child rearing.

No, roller coaster rides are roller coaster rides and are compatible with loud music, screaming, losing your lunch (or at least the near occasion of losing your lunch), wind-blown hair, and not much else. If you desire and pursue the roller coaster above all else, then all else (especially those activities requiring tranquility, reflection, stability, nurturing, and quiet enjoyment) will not prevail.

Unless you want to run off with the carnival, letting a roller coaster (or, worse, Tunnel of Love) ride determine the rest of your life is, obviously, impractical.

And yet, that's just what we try to do with romantic love and the rest of our lives.

The Myth of Romantic Love: Living off the Fat of Infatuation
Romantic love is mental illness. But it's a pleasurable one. It's a drug. It distorts reality, and that's the point of it. It would be impossible to fall in love with someone that you really saw.
FRAN LEBOWITZ

Romantic love is, quite literally, a drug high. The intensely good feeling of "falling in love" is triggered by the same physiological reactions caused by free-fall in sky diving or winning a fortune in the lottery. Free-fall, fortune winning, and falling in love release into the bloodstream epinephrine, commonly known as adrenaline (the body's natural hey-hey-hey! chemical) and endorphins (the body's whoopee! chemical). These chemicals are just as pleasurable as any drugs (licit or illicit) you care to name--and just as addictive.

It's an addiction, however, our society not only tolerates, but encourages. According to cultural norms, addiction to heroin, cocaine, or alcohol is bad. Addiction to the thrill of falling in love is good. In fact, not being addicted to love is bad. Further, being "in love" is reason enough to do almost anything--from murder to abandoning one's career.

It is hard to name anything that gets more free positive publicity than romantic love. Every movie, commercial, TV show (sitcom, drama, or movie-of-the-week), popular song, billboard, and nine out of ten bestsellers sing the praises of romantic love.

It is painful to watch how tortured the plots become in order to work in the "love interest," as it's known in Hollywood. How is it that Indiana Jones always seems to find at least one gorgeous, intelligent, but otherwise romantically available woman in the midst of the jungle, desert, Incan ruins, Egyptian pyramids, or Peking opium den? Why? Well, as George Lucas once advised Steven Spielberg, "If the man and woman walk off into the sunset hand-in-hand in the last reel, it adds $10 million to the box office."

Human beings seem to have an almost unlimited capacity to deceive themselves and to deceive themselves into taking their own lies for the truth. One's only task is to realize oneself.
R. D. LAING

Romantic love is used so often because it sells so well, and the media always have something to sell. As they are using romantic love to sell what they want to sell (higher ratings, soap, Fenamint, books, tickets), they are also selling the notion of romantic love itself. This means romance sells better, which means it's used more often to sell, so it gets sold even more often, and so on. It's a very successful marketing tool.

From the consumer's point of view, however, there is only one small problem with romantic love: it's almost always doomed to failure.

Why Romantic Love Is Almost Always Doomed
The consuming desire of most human beings is deliberately to plant their whole life in the hands of some other person. For this purpose they frequently choose someone who doesn't even want the beastly thing. I would describe this method of searching for happiness as immature. Development of character consists solely in moving towards self-sufficiency.
QUENTIN CRISP

Few enterprises fail as often and as traumatically as romantic love, yet are still considered by many not just a solution, but the solution.

Solution to what? You name it: love waltzes in and dances your problems away. From solving the fundamental "problem" of existence to renewed health to financial rejuvenation to a cure for loneliness, Prince Charming or Cinderella cureth all.

At the outset, perhaps this is true. The problem, however, with this all-purpose problem solver is that it is based almost entirely on illusion.

We are programmed with the illusion of romantic love from an early age. The same culture that programs us to believe in Santa Claus, the Easter Bunny, the Tooth Fairy, and Free Lunch also programs us to believe in One Significant Other Out There Without Whom We Can't Be Whole, Much Less Happy. Minnie and Mickey, Olive Oyl and Popeye, Barbie and Ken, Lady and the Tramp--and they all lived happily ever after.

Right.

Mercifully, by the time we reach puberty and the advent of all those raging hormones that form the biochemical basis of romantic love, we have been disillusioned (probably traumatically) about Santa Claus, the Easter Bunny, the Tooth Fairy, and (for some) Free Lunch. Alas, as the early teenage years progress and our throbbing hormones create desires for other people's bodies which easily surpass even the most meaningful childhood visitation to Toys R Us, the illusion of romantic love is not dispelled. In fact, the spell is cast deeper, stronger, in Technicolor, 3-D, Dolby ProLogic, Sensearoundsound, and feelaroundbound.

In real love you want the other person's good. In romantic love you want the other person.
MARGARET ANDERSON

We are taught (by songs, movies, TV shows) that the natural physical attractions of the early teenage years are all part of the romantic ideal. It is "the dawn of love," "love at first sight," or "if you call it horny your parents will ground you, but if you say you're in love your parents will say it's a crush and whisper `Oh, how cute!'"

We are told the attraction--which is biochemical and electrical, but feels downright magnetic--is just the start of Something Big. "You mean it gets better than this?" Oh, yes, the more deeply you fall in love, the more spectacular it becomes. "Love Is a Many Splendored Thing."

To quote another song (you can discourse on romantic love's philosophy by quoting almost any song), "Fools Rush in Where Wise Men Fear to Tread." If this is true (and it probably is, if you consider that even the wise can become foolish when hormones and cultural programming combine to lower the IQ roughly one hundred points, as it does when one is about to fall in love), the wise are distressingly silent when it comes to teaching us about a certain biological imperative common to all mammals.

Rather than saying, for example, "Yes, this is a perfectly natural, healthy reaction, but it is not practical to act on it every time you feel it any more than it is practical to eat every morsel of food you see. Sexual attraction is just energy; if the time is not right to express it sexually, for whatever reason, then the energy can be used to create something else that is productive, satisfying, and fun."

No, the wise seem to have had their wisdom co-opted by the Grand Illusion. Some of the wise tales sound more like old wives' tales. "This feeling you have will deepen into desire, ripen into passion, grow into fulfillment, and flower into love." That even the wise want to escape the birds and the bees and instead discuss flowers is indicative of just how far from reality those who sell us the notion of romantic love must go.

The message that "love" will solve all of our problems is repeated incessantly in contemporary culture-- like a philosophical tom tom. It would be closer to the truth to say that love is a contagious and virulent disease which leaves a victim in a state of near imbecility, paralysis, profound melancholia, and sometimes culminates in death.
QUENTIN CRISP

As animals, we have more in common with birds and bees than we do with flowers. Most birds pair up for a season. They build a nest, mate, lay eggs, sit on eggs, feed the young for a few weeks, kick the kids out of the nest, and fly south for a well-deserved winter vacation--alone. In the spring, they fly north and begin it all again, usually with a new partner. With the exception of a few species including some lesbian sea gulls off the coast of California, to birds "till death do us part" means that they are living amongst a larger-than-usual population of pussy cats.

And of bees, well, allow Phyllis Lindstrom, of The Mary Tyler Moore Show to explain: Did you know the male bee is nothing but the slave of the queen? And once the male bee has, how should I say, serviced the queen, the male dies. All in all, not a bad system.

By the time we've reached dating age, the emotionally seductive concepts of "someone to watch over me," "in the morning, in the evening, ain't we got fun?" and "they all lived happily ever after" form an almost irresistible package, which has us by the end of the fifteen-year romance infomercial picking up our phones, dialing the number, and proclaiming, "I want it! I want it! I want it now!"

As with most illusions, reality inevitably intervenes, causing hurt, anger, and the exceptional success of broken-hearted love ballads. Unlike other disappointments, however, reality intervening in romantic love fails to bring disillusion. We still believe in romantic love; we just think we didn't measure up or they didn't measure up. Next time, we believe--next person, next weekend, next year, next lifetime it will be better, it will happen--true love, true love. To believe that the illusion is real, but that the loved one or our ability to love is inadequate, is of course all part of the illusion.

I'm not saying romantic love can't lead to solid, healthy, flexible, mutually nourishing relationships--sometimes it does, and sometimes it doesn't. But it's not a sure thing. Fifty-four percent of the marriages in this country end in divorce, and that's just the marriages. As we explored, if we add to that the number of people who fall in love "forever and ever" and break up before getting married, it's clear that what we are doing to achieve "happily ever after" ain't working.

When two people are under the influence of the most violent, most insane, most delusive, and most transient of passions, they are required to swear that they will remain in that excited, abnormal, and exhausting condition continuously until death do them part.
GEORGE BERNARD SHAW

Jack Parr, who was raised vegetarian, said that, as a child, every time he passed a butcher's window he thought there had been a terrible accident. It is not hard to come to the same conclusion as one surveys the landscape of romantic love, littered as it always seems to be with wounded, broken, and bleeding hearts.

Those who say the solution is to return to "traditional family values," have obviously spent very little time studying tradition, family, or history. In fact, "the good old days" (whenever you want to peg the good old days to be) were terrible for almost everyone. To return to "the good old days" would require women to be treated as chattel; a significantly shortened lifespan; six-day, fourteen-hour-a-day work weeks; fifty percent of all children dying before the age of eight; increased disease, pestilence, suffering, and no VCRs.

Since we can't go back to an idyllic past that never existed in the first place, what can we do? We do what we usually do when we discover what we believed in, hoped for, longed for, and fully expected to happen (someday) is simply not true; a myth. Poof. We become the sadder, but wiser, rabbit. This prevents us from becoming the miserable and stupid rabbit who keeps banking on a payoff that is a long shot at best.

The fundamental problem with romantic love is that it is based on sexual attraction, which is, at its most reliable, fickle. Once desire dries up--in a week, a month, or a year--it's hasta la vista, baby. More scientifically stated, when the physical and aesthetic characteristics of the love object no longer trigger spontaneous emissions of pleasurable chemicals into the bloodstream, the amount of time spent with, and attention paid to, the former object of desire decreases in direct ratio to the decrease of pleasurable hormonal secretions. Put most simply--when lust hits the dust, it's a bust.

Personally, I like sex and I don't care what a man thinks of me as long as I get what I want from him-- which is usually sex.
VALERIE PERRINE

"Oh, but I didn't love him for his body," some protest at my seemingly narrow analysis. "I loved him for his mind (character, ideals, kindness)." That may be so, dear heart, but you can bet the reason your partner--the mindful, idealistic, kindly character--showed you his remarkable mind, character, ideals, and kindness is, most likely, that he found your body not too shabby.behaviors (both uplifting and otherwise) in which anyone can take part--whether male or female, gay or straight, bi or sell.

When two people have a mutual nonsexual attraction, seldom, if ever, do they refer to it as "falling in love" or to their being together as a "relationship." It's called a friendship, partnership, or acquaintanceship. Although the two may grow to love one another, they do not fall into anything (unless there is money or some other lust-inducing enticement) and they don't go blindly leaping off emotional cliffs, yelling,
"Saint Valentine protect me! Here I go

                                 o
                                   o
                                     o
                                      o
                                       o
                                        oh-oh . . . "
                                             SPLAT.
From time to time great minds have risked censure, public ridicule, and the loss of research grants to speak the truth about romantic love. Here are the best I could find. (O, to have had this list when I was seventeen!)

A mighty pain to love it is, And `tis a pain that pain to miss; But of all pains, the greatest pain It is to love, but love in vain.
--Abraham Cowley (1656)
Time, which strengthens friendship, weakens love.
--Jean de La Bruyre (1688)

Beauty soon grows familiar to the lover, Fades in his eye, and palls upon the sense.
--Joseph Addison (1713)

If love is judged by most of its effects, it resembles hate more than friendship.
--La Rochefoucauld

Love is ridiculous passion which hath no being but in play-books and romances.
--Jonathan Swift

It is impossible to love and to be wise.
--Francis Bacon

Love is the child of illusion and the parent of disillusion.
--Miguel de Unamuno

Love is a springtime plant that perfumes everything with its hope, even the ruins to which it clings.
--Flaubert

Love is a disease which fills you with a desire to be desired.
--Toulouse-Lautrec

Never the time and the place And the loved one all together!
--Robert Browning

Friendship is a disinterested commerce between equals; love, an abject intercourse between tyrants and slaves.
--Oliver Goldsmith

When one is in love one begins by deceiving oneself, one ends by deceiving others. That is what the world calls romance.
--Oscar Wilde

For though I know he loves me Tonight my heart is sad His kiss was not so wonderful As all the dreams I had.
--Sara Teasdale

One is very crazy when in love.
--Freud

Love is a gross exaggeration of the difference between one person and everybody else.
--George Bernard Shaw The worst of having a romance is that it leaves one so unromantic.
--Oscar Wilde

When first we met we did not guess That Love would prove so hard a master.
--Robert Bridges

To be in love is merely to be in a state of perceptual anesthesia--to mistake an ordinary young man for a Greek god or an ordinary young woman for a goddess.
--H. L. Mencken

My silks and fine array, My smiles and languished air, By love are driv'n away; And mournful lean Despair Brings me yew to deck my grave: Such end true lovers have.
WILLIAM BLAKE

Lovers who have nothing to do but love each other are not really to be envied; love and nothing else very soon is nothing else.
--Walter Lippmann

Great loves too must be endured.
--Coco Chanel

If two people love each other there can be no happy end to it.
--Ernest Hemingway

Oh, life is a glorious cycle of song, A medley of extemporanea; And love is a thing that can never go wrong; And I am Marie of Roumania.
--Dorothy Parker

Love is the triumph of imagination over intelligence.
--H. L. Mencken

And the lovers lie abed with all their griefs in their arms.
--Dylan Thomas

There is hardly any activity, any enterprise, which is started with such tremendous hopes and expectations and yet which fails so regularly as love.
--Erich Fromm

Love is a universal migraine A bright stain on the vision Blotting out reason.
--Robert Graves

One should always be wary of anyone who promises that their love will last longer than a weekend.
--Quentin Crisp

Every young girl . . . tries to smother her first love in possessiveness. Oh what tears and rejection await the girl who imbues her first delicate match with fantasies of permanence, expecting that he at this gelatinous stage will fit with her in a finished puzzle for all the days.
--Gail Sheehy

Great passions don't exist--they are liar's fantasies. What do exist are little loves that may last for a short or longer while.
--Anna Magnani

There is one thing I would break up over, and that is if she caught me with another woman. I won't stand for that.
--Steve Martin

I can see from your utter misery, from your eagerness to misunderstand each other, and from your thoroughly bad temper, that this is the real thing.
--Peter Ustinov

You love me so much, you want to put me in your pocket. And I should die there smothered.
D. H. LAWRENCE

People in love, it is well known, suffer extreme conceptual delusions; the most common of these being that other people find your condition as thrilling and eye-watering as you do yourselves.
--Julian Barnes

She was a lovely girl. Our courtship was fast and furious--I was fast and she was furious.
--Max Kauffmann

My boyfriend and I broke up. He wanted to get married, and I didn't want him to.
--Rita Rudner

Told her I had always lived alone And I probably always would, And all I wanted was my freedom, And she told me that she understood. But I let her do some of my laundry And she slipped a few meals in between, The next thing I remember she was all moved in And I was buying her a washing machine.
--Jackson Browne

Kissing is a means of getting two people so close together that they can't see anything wrong with each other.
--Ren Yasenek

To fall in love is to create a religion that has a fallible God.
--Jorge Luis Borges

Love is simple to understand if you haven't got a mind soft and full of holes. It's a crutch, that's all and there isn't any one of us that doesn't need a crutch.
--Norman Mailer

Love is mainly an affair of short spasms. If these spasms disappoint us, love dies. It is very seldom that it weathers the experience and becomes friendship.
--Jean Cocteau

The happiest moments in any affair take place after the loved one has learned to accommodate the lover and before the maddening personality of either party has emerged like a jagged rock from the receding tides of lust and curiosity.
--Quentin Crisp

To fall in love you have to be in the state of mind for it to take, like a disease.
--Nancy Mitford

Love is the drug which makes sexuality palatable in popular mythology.
--Germaine Greer

If you can stay in love for more than two years, you're on something.
--Fran Lebowitz
« Last Edit: 28 Apr, 2023, 18:06:14 by spiros »


spiros

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A Brief and No Doubt Terribly Inaccurate
History of Romantic Love

In 1862, as token of love and remorse,--Dante Gabriel Rossetti buried a sheaf of original manuscript poems with his dear departed wife,--Elizabeth Siddal. In 1869, having reconsidered his romantic gesture, Dante Gabriel Rossetti exhumed his wife, retrieved and subsequently published the buried poems.
JON WINOKUR

Romantic love is an illusion because it was created by entertainers. The poets, musicians, dancers, and painters--under the direct instructions of the Powers That Were--created lyrics, melodies, movements, paintings, sculptures, and the now-notorious etchings to praise the ruler's next, or most recent, sexual conquest with the same enthusiasm (and exaggeration) they used when documenting the Great One's military victories. The entire Old Testament book, Solomon's Song of Songs, seems bent on making King Solomon's physical passion high fashion. It was written around three thousand years ago, perhaps by Solomon himself or, more likely, by one of Solomon's temple poets.

It is, shall we say, unabashed in its celebration of the more erotic pleasures. God is mentioned only in passing, like the perfunctory grace murmured by ravenous diners after the food is already on the table.

If the Song of Songs were not part of the Old Testament, the Bible thumpers would have demanded its banning long ago. It is more an erotic miniseries than Bible lesson, with the characters Lover and Beloved exchanging passionate pleasantries--sort of an erotic Can You Top This?watchmen of the walls!" Hardly the behavior--or the treatment--of the king's latest bride, one who is surrounded by handmaidens, and discourses the afternoon away on the tender pleasures of love.

Illusion is the first of all pleasures.
OSCAR WILDE

Like their twentieth-century counterparts, the lovers use time-honored seduction techniques on each other:

Gifts (or at least promises of gifts) . . . We will make you earrings of gold, studded with silver. (1:11)
Flattery . . . Take me away with you--let us hurry! The king has brought me into his chambers. We rejoice and delight in you; we will praise your love more than wine. How right they are to adore you! (1:4)

Your two breasts are like two fawns, like twin fawns of a gazelle that browse among the lilies. (4:5)

How handsome you are, my lover! Oh, how charming! And our bed is verdant. (1:16)

Which leads inexorably to the main event . . .

Like an apple tree among the trees of the forest is my lover among the young men. I delight to sit in his shade, and his fruit is sweet to my taste. He has taken me to the banquet hall, and his banner over me is love. Strengthen me with raisins, refresh me with apples, for I am faint with love. His left arm is under my head, and his right arm embraces me. (2:3-6)

I slept but my heart was awake. Listen! My lover is knocking: "Open to me, my sister, my darling, my dove, my flawless one. My head is drenched with dew, my hair with the dampness of the night." I have taken off my robe--must I put it on again? I have washed my feet--must I soil them again? My lover thrust his hand through the latch-opening; my heart began to pound for him. I arose to open for my lover, and my hands dripped with myrrh, my fingers with flowing myrrh, on the handles of the lock. (5:2-5)

He promised me earrings, but he only pierced my ears.
ARABIAN SAYING

Dripping with myrrh and dripping with metaphor, these could be passages from a romance novel published today. While the many seductive and erotic portrayals of true love in ancient literature, painting, and sculpture seem to prove that nothing really changes when it comes to human desire, significant elements have been incorporated into today's notion of romantic love that were unheard of until only a few centuries ago: monogamy, "till death do us part," equality of women, and average lifespans topping seventy years.

Prior to all that newfangled thinking and longer living, almost all marriages were arranged. From peasants to princesses, the families--not the participants--decided who would get hitched to whom.

These arrangements were often made at birth, and families would sometimes have an extra child especially to mate with an unspoken-for child in another family. To allow your parents to choose your spouse was accepted as a genetic inevitability--like eye color, balding pattern, or height.

These marriages often took place as soon as the couple was "ready for marriage"--specifically, when each had reached puberty. If you were able to reproduce, you were ready for marriage. In the Hebrew tradition, for example, a boy around thirteen would declare, "Today I am a man." His marriage followed shortly thereafter--sometimes on the same day.

In such marriages, till death do us part was the rule. Considering, however, the pestilence, wars, epidemics, droughts, floods, and any number of wrathful gods who would wipe out entire populations just to make a minor point, even if you survived for very long, your spouse probably wouldn't. Till death do you part, then, was usually a five- to six-year contract. With an average lifespan of about thirty-five, the husband or wife who lived to that ripe old age could have five or more domestic partners.

In olden times sacrifices were made at the altar-- a practice which is still continued.
HELEN ROWLAND

Nobility had arranged marriages, too, but nobility (naturally) had a loophole. The loopholes went by the name of mistresses, concubines, courtesans, lovers, palace guards, and, of course, multiple wives. Solomon dismissed--but acknowledged the presence of--his erotic entourage as he wooed his latest prize:

Sixty queens there may be, and eighty concubines, and virgins beyond number; but my dove, my perfect one, is unique, the only daughter of her mother, the favorite of the one who bore her. The maidens saw her and called her blessed; the queens and concubines praised her. (6:8-9)
This arrangement was described by Oscar Hammerstein II in The King and I:

A woman must be like a blossom, with honey for just one man. A man must be like a honey bee, and gather all he can. To fly from blossom to blossom, the honey bee must be free. But blossom must not ever fly, from bee to bee to bee!
In theory, the queens and concubines remained faithful, but in practice, well, what the honey bee doesn't know won't hurt him.

The word court originally meant a walled space in front of the house where chickens and other livestock were kept. The wall was a sign of wealth and power--and offered some protection from nosy-greedy-jealous neighbors. As the power and wealth of the powerful and wealthy grew, the courts became larger and larger, becoming covered spaces. Eventually, the great hall where the powerful brokered became known as the court. As it was also the ruler's job to dispense justice, royal courts became the basis for our courts of law today (where the majority of married couples will end up for divorce proceedings).

Naturally, the courts of the rich and powerful attracted rich and powerful wannabes, hangers on, and anyone the ruler found amusing. Hence, courtiers and courtesans, raising flattery and pleasure to world-class levels. Among the courtiers and courtesans, of course, would be some dangerous liaisons. Among these, romance was high on the list. The members of the court wooed with what they knew--praise and presents--which led to the word courtship.

We declare that love cannot exist between two people who are married to each other. For lovers give to each other freely, under no compulsion; married people are in duty bound to give in to each other's desires.
MARIE, COUNTESS OF CHAMPAGNE--1174

All of these are French words because romantic flattery reached a peak in the courts of France. Troubadours were hired to sing songs of love, lust, and longing to any objet d'desire. Fashion was used to attract romance. Satin clothing, lace, high heels, elaborate wigs, and jewelry, jewelry everywhere. (The women dressed nicely, too.)

The end result of all this courtship was, occasionally, one of those till-death-do-us-part marriages. What a concept! Getting married to the person you feel passionate about. What would the French think of next? Although the custom met with limited acceptance, by the time of the French Revolution--and especially after--it became a more popular pursuit.

The United States in the 1800s became a hotbed of select-your-own-spouse activity. Any number of people left the Old World and its old customs because they wanted to have some say in who their spousal roommate might be--and even more left to escape the mate selected by fate (that is, their parents): "I am not exactly sure what I'm looking for, but I know it is not that."

Another significant difference between then and now is the way in which women were viewed. Inexplicably, throughout the history of what we call Western civilization women have been treated appallingly. In biblical times, for the most part, they were viewed as one step above cattle. The man owned his wives, and listed them among an inventory of his possessions. Well into the nineteenth century, women had no rights, could not own property, and could not enter into contractual agreements. The reason prostitution is the world's oldest profession is that the only thing a woman who was not under the "protection" (and the thumb) of a man could sell was her body. In legal or criminal disputes between men and women, men always prevailed.

Perhaps in time the so-called Dark Ages will be thought of as including our own.
G. C. LICHTENBERG

To wealthy families, women were such a burden that the father offered money to any man who agreed to take the daughter away and spend a fraction of her own inheritance taking care of her. In Taming of the Shrew, when Petruchio arrives in town, he proclaims,

I come to wive it wealthily in Padua; If wealthily, then happily in Padua.
It was not the daughter, but the size of her dowry that aroused the passions of eligible men. In poorer families, the solution was often more direct--excess female children were murdered at birth. Children who were not able to start working in the fields--as most boys were--within a few years of birth were dispensed with.

When Thomas Jefferson wrote, "all men are created equal," he meant men, not women. The year 1776 was not the year of independence for American women. Women were arrested for smoking cigarettes as late as 1904, and Margaret Sanger was jailed in 1916 for teaching birth control. As hard as it is to believe, women did not have the right to vote in the United States until 1920. Even more astonishing: in Canada women did not have the right to vote until 1948.

In romance and marriage, the concept that women are equal to men is only a few decades old. A great many people in this country still haven't heard the news.

Another radical difference between then and now is lifespan. In the past three to four centuries the average lifespan has nearly doubled. Reaching thirty-five was once considered an accomplishment; today pushing seventy is commonplace. Thanks to indoor plumbing (which took septic waste away) and improved transportation (which made fresh fruits and vegetables available all year), combined with the three A's of modern medicine (antibiotics, anesthetics, and antiseptics), "happily ever after" has become a long, long, long time. Whereas "till death do us part" meant five to six years in the Middle Ages, it means--for the average twenty-one-year-old embarking on this adventure for the first time--more than half a century.

But enough on why romance isn't working. Let's focus instead on the solution.

The Solution
to Loving and Being Loved
Is Right under (and over, and around, and Including)
Your Nose
All hatred driven hence, The soul recovers radical innocence And learns at last that it is self-delighting, Self-appeasing, self-affrighting, And that its own sweet will is Heaven's will.
WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS

There's an old story about a brainstorming session called by God to discuss plans for the creation of the world.

"Nearly everything's taken care of," God observed, looking over the vast blueprint for Earth and all its inhabitants, "except we still have a few very important decisions to make. One of the most important is `Where do we hide humanity's true self?'" This was important because, at a previous planning session, it was decided that one of the games people would play on Earth--just to keep them from getting bored--would be Hide-and-Go-Seek. God would hide certain things on Earth--such as humanity's true self--and it would be up to human beings to find them.
This question prompted a flurry of suggestions. "Let's hide it on the highest mountain!" one of the architectural archangels recommended.

"No," said God, "someday human beings will climb the highest mountains and they'll find it."

"Let's hide it on the dark side of the moon!" one of the seraphim suggested.

"No," God said, "one day humanity will explore the moon--even the dark side--and the true self will be discovered."

"Let's put it at the bottom of the deepest ocean," offered a cherub.

I was told that the Chinese said they would bury me by the Western Lake and build a shrine to my memory. I have some slight regret that this did not happen, as I might have become a god, which would have been very chic for an atheist.
BERTRAND RUSSELL

"That's the best hiding place so far," said God, "but some day humans will even plumb the depths of the deepest oceans and find the Titanic of their true selves." God's little pun was met with polite laughter and a few celestial groans. "Besides," God continued, "we don't want all humanity to find their true selves at the same time. Then the game would be over forever. That's no fun."

A great peace settled on the heavenly conference room. Eventually, the voice of a timid but thoughtful angel broke the silence.

"Why don't we hide humanity's true self inside each and every human being?"

"Excellent!" proclaimed God. "Hide it in plain sight. Put it in the most obvious place of all. It will take them forever to find it inside themselves." God, who loves games, chuckled with delight.

"If it's going to be all that difficult, shouldn't we provide some clues?" asked an angel who was particularly fond of Earth.

"Yes," said God, "I suppose that would be only fair. In fact, we'll have all the great teachers of the true self tell humanity precisely where it is." God turned to the right. "Jesus."

"Yes, Dad?"

"Why don't you say something like this when you're down there: `The kingdom of heaven is within you,' or `the kingdom of God is within you,'--something like that? Where else would the true self reside than in the kingdom of God?"

Men talk of "finding God," but no wonder it is difficult; He is hidden in that darkest hiding-place, your heart. You yourself are a part of him.
CHRISTOPHER MORLEY

"Sure, Dad," Jesus replied, writing in his notebook. "I'll say it in Luke 17:21."

"Isn't that a little obvious?" asked one of the game-loving angels. "I mean, isn't that giving it away?"

"No," said God, "on Earth only the hummingbird has a shorter attention span than the human being. Most humans won't even hear it. Those who do hear it, and believe it, and discover it's true, will most likely forget it."

"Do you think we should give humans a few more memory chips?" an electrical engineering angel asked.

God pondered this for some time and finally remarked, "I don't think so. Maybe. Let's see how they do with the current allotment. But, just to be fair, let's give them another clue. Jesus, add to your statement about the kingdom of God being within something like `seek ye first the kingdom of God and all these things shall be added unto you.'"

"Sure, Dad," Jesus said, pulling out his notebook again. "I'll say that in Matthew 6:33 and Luke 12:31."

"There," God said, "are we all agreed?" There were murmurs of approval and delight. The angels couldn't wait to see how much fun human beings would have playing the Hide-and-Go-Seek-Yourself game. "Great! Let's break for lunch--it's on me. Diet Ambrosia for all!" There were general cheers and hurrahs from the satisfied but famished angels.

Here is where they usually put the fade-out in this story. It's as though this were the last major decision to be made. Most people assume that the cosmic construction crew got to work and six days later, there was Earth. The storytellers usually fail to relate what happened in the afternoon session. Another very important decision was yet to be made.

"Human beings have an in-built desire to love and to be loved," God said, "to care for and to be cared for; to support and be supported; to please and be pleased. Where shall we hide each human being's true love?"
"Begging your pardon, God," said the angel in charge of budgeting Earth, "but do humans really need any more love? After all, we are sending down legions of angels--at enormous expense--who have nothing to do but love and protect human beings. These angels are, it is well-known, exceedingly lovable. Then there is all the wonderful energy flowing in and around everything--what do you call it . . . ?"

"Life," God answered. "Or life force, spirit, cosmic energy, creative intelligence--it has a lot of names."

"Yeah, that," the CPA cherub said. "This energy seems to be loving; in fact, it seems to be ostentatiously loving."

"Well, that's because it is," God reminded the budget-conscious angel.

"Do you have any idea what it costs to maintain this energy, every day, all the time?"

"Yes," God said with a knowing smile, "I know, I know."

"Then we have all the emissaries you will be sending to Earth on one loving mission after another. The travel budget alone is astounding. And we have to amortize the cost of blessings, grace, miracles. Take your son Jesus, for example . . . "

You must believe in God, in spite of what the clergy say.
BENJAMIN JOWETT

"That won't be very expensive," said God. "A few robes, a couple of pairs of sandals, a donkey . . . not much."

"But there's the resurrection," sighed the cost-cutting angel in exasperation. His eyes would have rolled heavenward were the angel not already in heaven. "Do you know how expensive a resurrection is? Why, the paperwork alone . . . "

"Yes, I know, I know . . . "

"And then there is you," the fiscally responsible angel said, checking his Earth Construction Cost Analysis; "it says that you will personally dwell within each human on Earth!"

"If that's where we put the kingdom of God, where else am I supposed to dwell?"

"But have you considered the duplication costs?"

"Haven't these already been approved?" asked God.

"Yes, yes, I'm just trying to avoid redundancy. Certainly if you are inside each human being, loving them from the inside out, can't they just love you back and let that be enough loving?"

"Humans loving humans is like bananas on cereal," God said. "It's certainly not necessary, but it is nice."

"There were a lot of nice things we didn't include--television without commercials, Hagen Dazs as a health food, honest politicians, televangelists who have at least skimmed the Bible . . . "

"Oh, the unkind things they do in my name!" said Jesus, shaking his head.

"You agreed to be crucified by those on Earth," God reminded him.

"Yes, but I didn't think it would be like that," said Jesus.

"Always read the small print in the contract, son," God reminded him.

"If I may continue," the financial angel said.

"Please," said God.

"...eyes in the back of human heads plus one on top, a tropical climate for New York City--the list of unfundable niceties goes on and on . . . "

"Let's put humans loving humans into the category of very nice, then," said God, exercising his godly prerogative.

"You mean like songbirds, sunsets, and portable CD players?" the CPAngel asked, reviewing the very nice list. "Spacious skies; amber waves of grain, purple mountain majesties; above the fruited plain . . . "

"Yeah," God said. "That list."

"Very well," the CPAngel (who was always secretly pleased when God bumped something wonderful up to a higher budgetary category) said, "we'll put it in here--right under colors, music, and forgiveness."

"So," said God returning to his original question, "who would be a human's perfect human lover?"

It is the test of a good religion whether you can joke about it.
G. K. CHESTERTON

"What are the qualities of a perfect lover for humans?" an angel asked.

"Good question," said God. "Ideas?" he asked the assembled throng.

"The lover would have to know the beloved well," suggested one angel. "Likes, dislikes, wants, preferences--and then be willing to supply the good rather than the bad."

"Yes, and the lover would have to know when the beloved wanted the preferred good," another angel added, "and how much, and for how long."

"They would have to be together all the time," a third angel suggested; "that way when one or another of them wanted something, the other one would be always there to provide it."

"And this would mean that they would have to be able to live together, sleep together, eat together, and bathe together. They would have to be together during sickness and in health, in good times and bad, till death do them part."

"It would be nice if they both got into movie theaters for the same price," one of the more practical angels suggested.

"Yes," said God, "these are very good characteristics of ideal lovers. Who, then, is each human being's ideal lover?"

A flurry of suggestions cascaded in:

"Their soulmate!"

"The one who says `I will.'"

"Their star-crossed lover!"

"Marky Mark!"

"Their Valentine!"

"No, no, no," God said at last, "you're all considerably off track. Think deeper on this; think practically about love. That's something we can do that human beings don't seem to be capable of. It's our job, then, to provide the right answer, and to leave lots of clues about that answer all over the Earth."

The world embarrasses me, and I cannot dream That this watch exists and has no watchmaker.
VOLTAIRE

Another silence descended on the heavenly conference hall. Some angels went into deep reverie. Eventually, the thoughtful but timid angel who had suggested that humanity's true self be hidden within each human being spoke.

"The answer is simple," he said. All of heaven turned to listen to his words of wisdom. "We'll just make sure that every human is a Siamese twin."

"Closer," said God, "but not exactly there."

"And very, very expensive," said the CPAngel.

"Dad," said Jesus, looking through the notebook he was preparing for his earthly journey, "when in Matthew 19:19 and Mark 12:31 I repeat your commandment `love your neighbor as yourself,' it doesn't just mean to love your neighbor. Aren't you also telling people not to love any other human more than themselves?"

"Very good, Jesus," God said. "Just as `the kingdom of God is within you,' it is quite clear, but will be astonishingly misunderstood. Human beings must learn to love themselves first, and then they will be able to love their neighbor. They won't be able to help it, in fact."

"I don't remember `love your neighbor as yourself,' being one of the ten commandments," said an angel.

"It's not, but it is one of the two commandments that form the foundation for all the Old Testament teachings," God said. "Jesus, what do you say at Matthew 22:37-40?" asked God.

"About the same thing I say at Mark 12:28-31 and Luke 10:25-27," Jesus said, looking through his notebook.

"The one at Matthew 22:36-40 reads:

"Teacher, which is the greatest commandment in the Law?" Jesus replied: "`Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind.' This is the first and greatest commandment. And the second is like it: `Love your neighbor as yourself.' All the Law and the Prophets hang on these two commandments."

"Why does it say that the second commandment is like the first?" an angel asked.

There is a Law that man should love his neighbor as himself. In a few years it should be as natural to mankind as breathing or the upright gait; but if he does not learn it he must perish.
ALFRED ADLER

"Although I certainly like being loved," God said, "the reason humans are asked to love God is that loving feels good. If they're loving me with all their heart, soul, and mind, they are immersed in love and, therefore, in good feelings. The second commandment is like it because . . . Jesus, why don't you take this one?"

"One of the things that can interfere with loving God is hating what's on Earth. If humans are preoccupied with hating themselves and each other, they will be filled with hate and not love, which is neither enjoyable nor productive. In other words, if you are a human being and you're loving God, yourself, and your neighbor as yourself, then life is bound to be primarily loving."

"My boy!" said God proudly.

"Are you saying, God, that the best human lover for each individual human is himself or herself?" asked an angel.

"Each human is a lover and beloved in one?" asked another.

"Precisely," said God. "First, love God as you understand God to be; yourself second; and then everyone else. Those are the rules for a happy, productive, satisfying human life."

"That won't cost much," said the cost-conscious angel, "in fact, if they do that, this Earth venture could be nearly self-sustaining."

"Does this agree with what you will be teaching, Moses?" God asked.

"Fine, fine," said Moses.

"Confucius?" asked God.

"Yes, yes," Confucius nodded.

"Buddha?" God asked.

"Ah, yes," said Buddha.

"Krishna?"

"Of course," said Krishna.

"Mohammed?"

"Certainly, yes," said Mohammed.

"Tony Robbins?" asked God.

"He's out making another infomercial," said one of the angels.

"Oh, that's right," said God.

"But I think Tony would agree, too."

Love is a metaphysical gravity.
R. BUCKMINSTER FULLER

It was getting on toward evening. The heavenly bodies gathered 'round the place in time and space earmarked for the construction of Earth. They looked into the void that would soon be separated into the heavens and the earth.

"Will the human beings practice what we teach them and be happy," one of the Earth emissaries asked in a soft voice, "or do something else and be miserable?"

"Each human being has that choice in each moment of human existence--it's that free-will clause we are experimenting with."

"Will most human beings choose to love God, love themselves, and love their neighbors?"

"If they accept God for what they perceive God to be and not what other people proclaim God to be, then loving God is easy," said God. "They will then have all the loving they need to take care of themselves, and to give to others from the abundance."

"Will most human beings choose to do so?"

"Most human beings will choose to do it at least some of the time," said God.

"Eventually, what choice will most human beings make most of the time?"

"That's the end of the story," said God. "Do you really want to know the end of the story?"

"No, I guess not. It's more fun to watch and see what happens."

"I agree," said God. "That's why even I chose to not know the ending myself."



 

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