Love and Relationships,  Personal Growth

What Madness is This?

Why is it easier to speak about everything that is difficult?  Why is it that when joy moves me I do not wish to pick up paper and pen (laptop)?

While my writing has its own life – a life that “comes upon me”, there is a difference between that “which must be written” and that “which does not need to be written”.  Grief and pain hold some shadow of doubt, a life tension that casts a shadow on all thoughts.  Happiness holds confidence and joy and there are no shadows lingering about.  I think it is that life tension that must be written so that each piece of doubt, each shadow of anguish can be examined and perhaps – purged.  It is the act of writing that makes the nonsensical make sense; it is the act of writing that sheds light on anguish.

Joy needs no sense; joy needs no explanation, it is satisfactory the way that it is.  So is it true that artists need to be tortured souls?  Well versed in heartbreak and woe?  Must a good story include what is hurtful, bad and evil before shedding light on what is joyful, good and right?

Is there any thing or any relationship that is all about joy?  Ah, but no.  It does not exist, there is no such thing as a uni-faceted relationship.  There are times in a relationship that are joyful, new and beginning relationships share this characteristic of happiness.  Newborns are born into a celebratory atmosphere, weddings are celebratory events, as many newly formed relationships begin with a “honeymoon”.

As surely as we lay our head on our lover’s shoulder sighing deeply in satisfaction, we will also be hurt and angry in turns and at times.  Some people choose to pursue only new relationships in the hopes that they will never have to experience the hurt and anger of a long term relationship.  Some people are in fear of long term relationships and would rather not commit love in any long or lasting manner.   Then of course, there is the dilemma of love: the more intensely you love, the more your passion and your joy for another is, the more you can be hurt by your relationship with your loved one.  It is the very intensity of the love that dictates the depth of despair you may feel.  Then there is the other relationship dilemma and that is the choice to not love another, which is a real tragedy, though a silent and quiet one.

I have given a lot of thought to this idea; the idea that writing out my grief and despair is so much easier than writing out my love.  When I am feeling love, I am usually engaged in love and thus have no time to put the thoughts to paper. When I am feeling despair, I am likely to be alone and thus can befriend my laptop and spend long hours in thought.   But, I am thinking that it might be important to express my love and my happiness.  It may be important to find a way to write about what is right about my life.  It may be important to express the joy and the love that occurs daily in my life.

To be engaged in love is a singular experience and can happen no matter what type of relationship it is.  Being engaged in love is creating a cocoon with another.  Inside of the cocoon emotions shoot like sparks and ricochet around only to be caught by the other who is in the cocoon with you, thoughts will randomly attach to your loved one as well.  Eye contact is utterly intense and can move your heart in all different ways.  Small movements can be profoundly intimate and warm touches can be magical.  Hearing your loved one can change the response of your whole body and feeling the presence of your lover can make your body go through changes.  Loving is a joyful experience that brings happiness to those who give it and to those who receive it.  Finally, love compels sharing.  Feeling love in my heart always pushes me to reach out, either to say “I love you” or to touch, hug, or kiss, but love is always compelling, it compels all of us to give.

So what madness is this that writing about love is awkward, while writing about hurt and grief is like putting on comfortable pajamas?  That, my friend, must change.  Because – while I have had my share of broken hearts, it certainly is not the definition of my life and therefore cannot be the definition of my writing.

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