On the heels of last week’s post about nothing, I’ve stepped it up and found something to write about. And it really is something... It makes the world go around, it lifts you up and it knocks you down. It can have you floating on air, or crushed by despair. You can feel it in your fingers; you can feel it in your toes. Yep… it’s LOVE.
Love is my something this week.
I did a quick search and found numerous sites about love, each with its own categorical definitions. One was content with just two categories: passion and compassion, another described three: Eros, Philos, and Agape, some defined as many as four or five or even six. But regardless of the number, all were firm with the limits of their categories. “That’s it, love defined,” they seem to say.
I see love and all of its variants as infinitely adaptable and therefore indefinable. Trying to define love is like trying to define literary genre, each variant squirms and strains against the trappings of classification.
Don’t believe me? Grab a few opinionated friends and try to classify this list without a debate.
In no particular order…
There’s puppy love and Courtney Love, unbidden and forbidden,
There’s sensual, consensual, unbridled, and once bitten,
There is fading love so bittersweet it tastes of melancholy,
And the crazy, stupid, crushing love that only leads to folly,
The obsessive and possessive loves, of tainted jealousy,
And the unrequited stinging love of ‘never meant to be’,
There’s timeless, endless, boundless love, and trysts that lead to scandal,
Cool, gentle, tender love, and love too hot to handle,
Ethereal, untellable, agape love divine,
The carefree-careless, summer love that ends before its time,
There’s gay love, straight love, and a mother’s love unguarded,
There’s funny love, a comic’s love, and that wasn’t me who farted,
Rivaling-reveling-sibling love ‘tween sister and a brother,
And the super freaky sort of love you don’t take home to mother,
But of passion or compassion or of tender loving care,
The best of love that I have found is that which I have shared.
Munk’s opening line.
On vacation by a lake, Munk had a second glass of wine and wrote a poem. No one had the good sense to stop him or help him with punctuation.
Munk’s opening line is yours to keep, use it.
This week’s music… Love is All Around, The Troggs--1967
A very cool band with a very cool and early promo video.
I will have limited connectivity this week... my replies will be even more sporadic than usual.