Why Love?

[impressive]

All the excitement of Christmas Eve over here.

Sarcastic offspring of a randy mare!

 

[BlackShanglan]

Sarcastic offspring of a randy mare!

Solemn as a judge on the topic of anticipating your PM, I promise. My smile was merely glee!

 

[impressive]

No problem.

But tell me this: Can you love without constant concern and worries abotu the well-being and safety of those that you love, and is that not exhausting?

It sure is for me. On the other hand, even if I'm not loved back, it's still well worth it.

Of course I prefer that my loved ones be free of pain & suffering, and to that end, I will offer my assistance in whatever capacity is wanted -- but that "constant concern" is often simply one's own fear of loss.

Give your love. What is done with it is the responsibility of the recipient.

 

[English Lady]

I live to love. love is what fuels me, love is my whole reason for being.

Love is many things and comes in many guises
often it's not returned.
I love being loved but I love to love even more. Love makes life interesting.

Love is all good BUT can attract pain,
when love is not returned or is forgotten or overlooked. When Love is manipulated and faked and feined.
It hurts.

When you love your soul is filled to overflowing,
You can't help but show it, share it, release it to all that you meet.
Love is impssobile to hide ocmpletely.
It shows through in a persons eyes, in their touch, in their voice.

Love is letting go.
Not being scared of the negatives but embracing the positives.
Love is life.

 

[entitled]

Being a veterinarian, I had been called to examine a
ten-year- old Irish Wolfhound named Belker. The dog's
owners, Ron, his wife, Lisa, and their little boy, Shane,
were all very attached to Belker and they were hoping for a
miracle.

I examined Belker and found he was dying of cancer. I
told the family there were no miracles left for Belker, and
offered to perform the euthanasia procedure for the old dog
in their home. As we made arrangements, Ron and Lisa told
me they thought it would be good for the four-year-old
Shane to observe the procedure. They felt as though Shane
might learn something from the experience.

The next day, I felt the familiar catch in my throat
as Belker's family surrounded him. Shane seemed so calm,
petting the old dog for the last time, that I wondered if
he understood what was going on. Within a few minutes,
Belker slipped peacefully away. The little boy seemed to
accept Belker's transition without any difficulty or
confusion.

We sat together for a while after Belker's death,
wondering aloud about the sad fact that animal lives are
shorter than human lives. Shane, who had been listening
quietly, piped up, "I know why."

Startled, we all turned to him. What came out of his
mouth next stunned me. I'd never heard a more comforting
explanation.

He said, "People are born so that they can learn how
to live a good life -- like loving everybody all the time
and being nice, right?" The four-year-old continued,
"Well, dogs already know how to do that, so they don't have
to stay as long."

Live simply. Love generously. Care deeply, Speak
kindly. Leave the rest to God

 

[Harry Leg]

Love ain't nothin but evol spelt backwards

 

[matriarch]

..... If you are lucky, you don't need to get anything back per se, the act of giving without expecting return can be a source of joy in itself.

Exactly!
My joy in my love comes from making her happy, seeing her smile. I expect nothing in return. The fact that I get her love back equally is a constant source of amazement and an extra joy.

I live to love her, to ensure she knows she is loved, in every way I can.

The clever part, the real love, will still be feeling the same way in say, another 10, 20, 30 years, after all the breathless lightheadedness that comes at the first realisation of love, has gently diffused into the knowledge that my life is incomplete without her.

 

[blueskies]

Exactly!
My joy in my love comes from making her happy, seeing her smile. I expect nothing in return. The fact that I get her love back equally is a constant source of amazement and an extra joy.

I live to love her, to ensure she knows she is loved, in every way I can.

The clever part, the real love, will still be feeling the same way in say, another 10, 20, 30 years, after all the breathless lightheadedness that comes at the first realisation of love, has gently diffused into the knowledge that my life is incomplete without her.

WOW... She is one lucky girl...

 

[Nirvanadragones]

unsure of the author...written from hetero perspective

Born, we are mortal, dehydrated, and ordinary; love is the oil that
plumps us up, dilates the eyes, puts a glow on the skin, and lifts us
free from the weight of time.

At best, love is simply the slipping of a hand in another's; of
knowing you are where you belong at last.

But if we have chosen to live in the private grip of love - and it
seems most of us have - (and remembering at the same time that there
are worse masters in the world) - perhaps we might ask what such love
should be.

Not the seeking of ourselves in others, certainly, which can lead
later to mutual rejection, but is acknowledging the uniqueness of the
sexes, their tongue-and-groove opposites, which provides love with its
natural adhesive.

Love should be an act of will, of passionate patience, flexible
cunning, constant proof against roasting and freezing, drought and
flood, and the shifting climates of mood and age. In order to make it
succeed, one must lose all preconceptions, including a reliance on
milk and honey, and fashion something that can blanket the whole range
of experience from ecstasy to decay.

Most of all it must be built on truth, not dream, the knowledge of
what we are rather than what we think it is the fashion to be. Neither
person is used simply as the other's victim, but as one whose needs
should also be cherished. Love approves, allows and liberates, and is
not a course of moral correction, nor a penitential brainwash or a
psychiatrist's couch, but a warm-bloodied acceptance of what one is.

The sum of love is that it should be a meeting place, an interlocking
of nerves and senses, a series of constant surprises and renewals of
each others moods, a sharing of the gods of bliss and silence - best
of all, a steady building, from the inside out, from the cozy centre
of love's indulgences, to extend its regions to admit a larger world
where children can live and breathe.

Love is not merely the indulgence of one's personal taste-buds; it is
also the delight in indulging another's. Also in remembering the lost
beauties of such simplicities as tenderness and care, in feeling able
to charm without suffering loss of status, in taking some pleasure in
the act of adoring, and in being content now and then to lie by one's
sleeping love and to shield her eyes from the sun

 

[BlackShanglan]

Whatever it is, it's damned stubborn. If making it through difficulties makes one stronger, the SO and I ought to be flying, invisible, and bulletproof.

 

[Selena_Kitt]

Whatever it is, it's damned stubborn. If making it through difficulties makes one stronger, the SO and I ought to be flying, invisible, and bulletproof.

amen to that!

 

[Harry Leg]

Whatever it is, it's damned stubborn. If making it through difficulties makes one stronger, the SO and I ought to be flying, invisible, and bulletproof.

I always thought you were

 

[BlackShanglan]

I always thought you were

*laugh*

Thanks, Harry.

 

[gauchecritic]

I've been given something for a while,

and the price of it is that I have to give it back.



Love happens. It happens to murderers and to the murdered. It happens to boys and it happens to other boys. Girls too.

Love happens to the shy and the boisterous to the athlete and the infirm.

There is no secret to it. It just happens. There is no searching it out, there is no hiding from its sting.

It can't be made stronger by whispered words, neither can it be broken by betrayal. That's not to say that it can't die but neither can it be created. It appears where it will, it flies of its own accord.

There is no accounting for love. No credits, no debits, no red ink, no black. No ledgers, no trials and balances, no price and no discount.

Love is never unrequited, never from afar, it is up close and in your face and mutual. Love never lingers unaccompanied.

Love never grows, it is you that grows into love. It never withers, it's you that withdraws.

Love never demands except that you put it to trial. Love is never cruel, never hard, never unworkable but for attempting to control it and move it to your whim.

It doesn't blossom, it never fades. It's you that has only just noticed it or taken it for granted.

There are only two ways to find out you're in love. One is that you realise. The other is that you've lost it.

 

[McKenna]

Born, we are mortal, dehydrated, and ordinary; love is the oil that
plumps us up, dilates the eyes, puts a glow on the skin, and lifts us
free from the weight of time.

At best, love is simply the slipping of a hand in another's; of
knowing you are where you belong at last.

But if we have chosen to live in the private grip of love - and it
seems most of us have - (and remembering at the same time that there
are worse masters in the world) - perhaps we might ask what such love
should be.

Not the seeking of ourselves in others, certainly, which can lead
later to mutual rejection, but is acknowledging the uniqueness of the
sexes, their tongue-and-groove opposites, which provides love with its
natural adhesive.

Love should be an act of will, of passionate patience, flexible
cunning, constant proof against roasting and freezing, drought and
flood, and the shifting climates of mood and age. In order to make it
succeed, one must lose all preconceptions, including a reliance on
milk and honey, and fashion something that can blanket the whole range
of experience from ecstasy to decay.

Most of all it must be built on truth, not dream, the knowledge of
what we are rather than what we think it is the fashion to be. Neither
person is used simply as the other's victim, but as one whose needs
should also be cherished. Love approves, allows and liberates, and is
not a course of moral correction, nor a penitential brainwash or a
psychiatrist's couch, but a warm-bloodied acceptance of what one is.

The sum of love is that it should be a meeting place, an interlocking
of nerves and senses, a series of constant surprises and renewals of
each others moods, a sharing of the gods of bliss and silence - best
of all, a steady building, from the inside out, from the cozy centre
of love's indulgences, to extend its regions to admit a larger world
where children can live and breathe.

Love is not merely the indulgence of one's personal taste-buds; it is
also the delight in indulging another's. Also in remembering the lost
beauties of such simplicities as tenderness and care, in feeling able
to charm without suffering loss of status, in taking some pleasure in
the act of adoring, and in being content now and then to lie by one's
sleeping love and to shield her eyes from the sun

This is incredibly beautiful. Thank you for sharing it! I tried to pick out just one or two sentences that meant the most, but couldn't do it; the whole thing is powerful, and deserved to be repeated.

 

[SeaCat]

I think I am one of the luckiest men alive. I have loved, not once but twice.

I was married at 18, to a beautiful wonderful woman named Mikhaila. She was taken from me several weeks later when visiting her family. I raged, I hated. (My hatred was something to behold, I had no soft feelings, no soft emotions. I was pure hate and pure hell. My government loved me, they did not see the blood on my hands nor did I for many years.) I suffered from my loss, and suffer I did.

In 1991 I met a wonderful woman, a woman who in 1992 became my wife. She broke through the ice around my heart. She helped me with my anger, my rage, and my hatred. She taught me that to truly become free I had to learn to forgive. I forgave. She stayed with me through the nightmares, she even stayed with me through being homeless for several months. She is still with me.

So yes, love and the loss of it does hurt. But love does also save, it saved me. (If I hadn't met my current wife I am sure I would be dead now, that is what my lifestyle was like.)

Cat

 

[Sarah Tonin]

Real love is when you get your name spray-painted on the side of a building.

Is it really love if you have to announce it?

 

[BlackShanglan]

Real love is when you get your name spray-painted on the side of a building.

Is it really love if you have to announce it?

I like that thought.

 

[elbieh]

What an Awesome Question

What an awesome question and what an array of different views!
You ask, Why Love; I might ask, why hate?
Are they not both deep rooted and heart-felt emotions that can bring about
physical and emotional distress? Do any of us have any control over who we love or hate and how it bares itself on our lives?
I say, we have NO control over who we love OR hate.
I say, we're not able to absolve ourselves from our feelings.
I say, we love or hate by something even deeper than our own DNA!

In my life, I have learned; to love does not require love in return.
To hate, only requires injustice from another without cause.
In loving, we find giving of ones self.
In hating, we find losing of ones self.

Isn't it amazing how such simple emotions can make or break our lives?

A wonderful question and many profound answers.
Thanks for letting me share!

 

[Nirvanadragones]

Tx McKenna

This is incredibly beautiful. Thank you for sharing it! I tried to pick out just one or two sentences that meant the most, but couldn't do it; the whole thing is powerful, and deserved to be repeated.

You're welcome. I carry these words around with me in a journal wherever I go.

 

[Guest]

oh MY!

Born, we are mortal, dehydrated, and ordinary; love is the oil that
plumps us up, dilates the eyes, puts a glow on the skin, and lifts us
free from the weight of time.

At best, love is simply the slipping of a hand in another's; of
knowing you are where you belong at last.

But if we have chosen to live in the private grip of love - and it
seems most of us have - (and remembering at the same time that there
are worse masters in the world) - perhaps we might ask what such love
should be.

Not the seeking of ourselves in others, certainly, which can lead
later to mutual rejection, but is acknowledging the uniqueness of the
sexes, their tongue-and-groove opposites, which provides love with its
natural adhesive.

Love should be an act of will, of passionate patience, flexible
cunning, constant proof against roasting and freezing, drought and
flood, and the shifting climates of mood and age. In order to make it
succeed, one must lose all preconceptions, including a reliance on
milk and honey, and fashion something that can blanket the whole range
of experience from ecstasy to decay.

Most of all it must be built on truth, not dream, the knowledge of
what we are rather than what we think it is the fashion to be. Neither
person is used simply as the other's victim, but as one whose needs
should also be cherished. Love approves, allows and liberates, and is
not a course of moral correction, nor a penitential brainwash or a
psychiatrist's couch, but a warm-bloodied acceptance of what one is.

The sum of love is that it should be a meeting place, an interlocking
of nerves and senses, a series of constant surprises and renewals of
each others moods, a sharing of the gods of bliss and silence - best
of all, a steady building, from the inside out, from the cozy centre
of love's indulgences, to extend its regions to admit a larger world
where children can live and breathe.

Love is not merely the indulgence of one's personal taste-buds; it is
also the delight in indulging another's. Also in remembering the lost
beauties of such simplicities as tenderness and care, in feeling able
to charm without suffering loss of status, in taking some pleasure in
the act of adoring, and in being content now and then to lie by one's
sleeping love and to shield her eyes from the sun

Let me worship You

 

[SEVERUSMAX]

I really don't believe that love CAN be chosen, nor hate, for that matter. It is NOT a conscious choice. It is an involuntary impulse, which MUST be triggered by something. That is why I don't believe in the existence of unconditional love- love MUST BE CONDITIONED by something. There HAS to be a stimulus. Of course, I am inclined to look to science and philosophy on issues like this, not to cliches, pop culture, and mindless ramblings from celebrities.

 

[Honey123]

At best, love is simply the slipping of a hand in another's; of knowing you are where you belong at last.

Not that this totally defines love for me...but when I saw these words, my heart and soul said, "Yes!"

Good choice of words for this thread, Nirvana...