January 3, 2002

  • Once upon a time, two people who barely knew each other, and who lived on opposite sides of the planet, decided to fall into something akin to love.

    (Love is need, love is desire, love is growth and pain. Love isn’t about the heart; love is about the whole body, the whole energy, the whole being. Love is a chemical reaction between mutual sets of covalent needs. Sometimes people need lessons they can’t get any other way but through romantic love. We have something to give those poor souls: Compassion.)

    They anguished over their geographic locations, caught in the abject frustration their situation induced. They wanted love-ness so badly that they were willing to become upset when they didn’t get it.

    Then, one day, one of them went to where the other one was.

    (Buddha says there is no other, there’s just… something… and it’s separated into pieces, and all these pieces are trying to find each other, motivated by their dukka, or painful ignorance. All the pieces have to do is to decide not to be pieces any more and they’ll be whole again, but the pieces are strange in that they choose to be separate.)

    And when they did this, they discovered that what they’d both been doing all along was this: The gaps, the pieces they couldn’t possibly know about each other… they’d been filling in those gaps with their imaginations. And of course everyone does that all the time anyway, whenever they meet anyone, but the gaps had been so many and the imaginations had been so fertile and desirous that this particular set of delusions was quite a force to be reckoned with.

    (I once knew a woman named Kat, I once knew a woman named Xara, I once knew a woman named Karen, I once knew… I mean, well, I thought I knew a woman named Hilary. I guess I didn’t really know any of the others either.)

    When they met, these two freaked out. You’d freak out, too. Well, they freaked out, and didn’t know what to do, because they were unprepared for real, live, 3D truth. Truth In Three Dimensions.

    After the freak out, one of them said, “Hey, this is actually good. We get another opportunity to discover each other!” The other one said, “The one I thought I loved would never say that.”

    They parted ways, and even though the one tried to stay in contact, the other resisted, such can be the strength of tightly-held truths, no matter how deluded.

    I had just turned 30 at the time. We still talk. I’ve since jettisoned that set of deluded truths. I have yet to discover what other deluded truths I hold tightly. Pray for me that it’s easy to figure out.

Comments (9)

  • oh one thing I’d hate to miss out on is the chance to re-discover the truths about the one I love.

    discovery is easy, truth is easy…… trust yourself.

  • I will!! guess I’m going trough some discovering  of my own…

  • (((((You)))))

    Loosely held truths are much better, yes?

    Yes.

    I’m hanging on…

    …loosely.

    V~

  • Imaginations vs reality…I probably would have done the “opportunity of discovery bit”. At least I hope I would have.   Good luck on your journey of self discovery.

  • Dammit… I wrote a big long comment and it didn’t show up…

    Here I go again…

    I can strangely relate. The strange part of it is that I actually never MET the person (like YOU did). However, I learned a mighty lot in our non-meeting, as well.

    In fact, I have probably learned more from that somewhat brief online relationship than I have in any single RL relationship I have had, which was strange. I can see that was my attraction to that person. Since I seek out growth, and lessons to learn, I was very interested in him. And without growth, I tend to get bored. *yawn*

    Boredom happens to be my worst enemy. I am battling a case of it right now, and this is something that my partner and I want to work on this year.

    Human relationships are fascinating (albeit frustrating). I enjoyed your story.

  • Khalil Gibran writes: “Love is the greatest of our treasures, exhalted above all, but there is a price to be paid for it… Its unavoidable end.”

    To love and then hurt for it is what makes us human. And it is like a harvest. One must cut down the crop, so its body becomes the nourishment for the next cycle of growth.

  • But that does not mean it don’t suck ass.

  • Considering the brevity, that is an amazing blog. Entertaining and profound. A bit like Twelvth Night?

  • I want to say something profound about how this entry touched me, but it defies description. You don’t know me, but your words fit my life right now.

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