Well, I feel this night like stepping out on a limb as I haven't done for a long while.
Do you know different kinds of love? I feel a bit violent, this night. But violence is not all 'bad'. Birth is violent, realization is violent, airth energy is violent, loyalty and submission and protectiveness, all these things have violent faces, sometimes.
Even in love play, biting and tenderness, they may have violent faces.
I have known different kinds of love. Sexual love, which cruises on the very differences which engender it.
Some love, seems only a dimly realized barter system; it asks much, as it offers what it can.
There is a sere, quiet, foreborn love, unexpressed, on the surface of it, but for all that not passive. It burns lowly, like a candle, shedding small obsequious prayers, but night after night, day after day, for a life-time.
There is a swollen kind of objectless love, that crosses boundaries, hazards dangerous connections. Like people reaching across or above or below a scratching barbed-wire, of a night, say in Norn Ireland, only for an instance.
There is a love that's fanned by nationalistic marches, that blinds its adherents, but connects them to the team wearing the same shirt in footie matches, or gets fanned on picnic days, when it sees a certain flag, and oohs and aahhhs under fire-works.
There is a love that reaches past ugliness, snotty noses, retardation, bad communication, that bends down, to see the piglet, the salamander, the mongoloid idiot, the scabby foundling, the errant.
There is the love you feel coming at you, if you've been knocked off your vehicle at high speed. It seems at first impersonal, it is the love of the nurse or doctor or emergency worker. You see it as you lie on an asphalt road, with blue and red lights flashing round you, above you, as you lie bleeding and helpless, stunned thoughtless. Ironically, this 'impersonal love' cuts you to the quick and rescues you in its expert clinical loving arms, when no one knows you for who you think you are.
There is a love for the tantrum child, the heavy metal band, the cheetah racing after the helpless dik dik. There is a love for the earth-mover, staggering across the land-scape in a gas-guzzling hole-digger, who plants macadamia trees, or demolishes landscapes to build.
There is a quiet love, of humble bending grasses, of little helpless worms, of the bald baby gabbling in its swaddling.
There is the love that says 'I will never forget you', and the love that teeters only in one drunken embrace, one night, with the floor full of drum beats, and forgets itself with dawn.
There is the love that bends down, there is the love that stretches far, and puts its last farthing at the costly turnstyle, onto a boat, headed for a distant shore.
There is a love that is exact and careful, and another that is careless and oblique.
Aren't all these different kinds of love equal? I think so, just now. I think all loves are equal somehow, inexpert, inarticulate, promised, feckless, sorry and proud.
What do ye think, those of you who tried for the 'Ultimate Love'? Don't you think there's different kinds, but they all smack the same, at the end of the day?
(er, pardon me. I haven't been able to write any poetry for a very long time, so, this is a, an offering, in stead.)
Full Version: Different Kinds of Love
Um, you are a genius. Is that assessment alright by you? This should be in a book.
I am unsure of how I categorize the different types of Love. I don't think I really experienced Love as a devotee. I know I never loved Krishna, Radha, the way I read of it in the books, the way I imagined it. I wanted it because I was told it was the highest thing; but I joined the Vaishnava world as a seeker of Truth. Love was inconsequential to me. I could find Love around me in the world; it was Truth, Answers, that I needed.
Striving for a Love delineated in a book seems to me so inauthentic now, and I feel that my natural, real propensity for Love was overborne by the futile quest for some sort of God-Love. I did not love others, for I was taught that the normal people around me were worthy of scorn, or at best, pity. I did not love devotees in any real sense because our relationships were based on our quest for God-Love, elsewhere-Love. I never knew anybody, and I'm certain of this because nobody ever knew me. When I left, I ceased to exist. Not many cared who I really was, or to have that person in their lives.
There were a few oases in those days when Love did shine through. One such case was Bindu-Sarovara devi dasi. I met her at New Vrindaban one day, and could not forget her afterward. Whenever I went there, the first thing I hoped for was to see her; everything else could wait.
My Love for Bindu was not romantic. It was not sexual. I felt those types of Love would actually demean the Love I did feel for her, which had an innocent, honest quality to it, and which was deep beyond measure. It was a Love that drove me to write her letters when I was away from her, and share every moment I could with her when in her presence, but never became a passionate fantasy, never spoke to me of "soulmates." The temple authorities did not understand this type of Love. They told her not to sit with me inside the temple any longer, and to watch her association with me in general.
There was Maria. But I didn't Love Maria. Maria was everything Bindu wasn't - with Maria, I sought to fulfill every flowery, romantic fantasy I had denied myself as a "brahmachari." Maria perhaps liked me, but she did not Love me, and she certainly did not share my need to connect with a human being of the opposite gender; thus she became my first heartbreak after finding Krishna.
There are certain people, male and female alike, that give me feelings that must be Love. When I think of them, I sometimes feel completely peaceful and calmed, supremely happy. Other times, I feel tumultuous, crashing waves of Love that are almost painful; my chest burns and my eyes water, and I want to find them to put my arms around them and hold them to me.
What is it that makes one Love romantic and another "Platonic"? Most of my close friends are female, and I Love them with all my heart; what makes that different from the Love I feel for my partner? Is sexual interest the only distinguishing factor, and if so, what if I told you that I found all of my close female friends indescribably attractive? Do we simply arbitrarily choose our object of romantic Love because we know we can't have more than one?
All I know, at this point, is that I want Love to be the defining characteristic of my life. I capitalize it because I hold it more sacred than anything; inside Love is everything else I hold dear, such as Understanding and Support. Love to me is the Patience to Understand another; the withholding of judgment; an undying Support for one who needs you. It must be more than just a feeling in one's chest; it must be active, living, breathing. Love is constantly in motion; it's demonstrative.
Earlier this year, I lost a friend who I Loved with all my heart. He said some very hurtful, evil things to me. A year or two ago, I would have shown him my pain; I would have ground him into the earth with words of anger and hatred. But this time, I told him I Loved him. Though it has since dwindled away, I needed him to know it at the time. He could not go away from me without knowing how much he meant to me for so long.
This does not really answer your question, A.L., but it is what I feel when I think of Love, for what it's worth.
Striving for a Love delineated in a book seems to me so inauthentic now, and I feel that my natural, real propensity for Love was overborne by the futile quest for some sort of God-Love. I did not love others, for I was taught that the normal people around me were worthy of scorn, or at best, pity. I did not love devotees in any real sense because our relationships were based on our quest for God-Love, elsewhere-Love. I never knew anybody, and I'm certain of this because nobody ever knew me. When I left, I ceased to exist. Not many cared who I really was, or to have that person in their lives.
There were a few oases in those days when Love did shine through. One such case was Bindu-Sarovara devi dasi. I met her at New Vrindaban one day, and could not forget her afterward. Whenever I went there, the first thing I hoped for was to see her; everything else could wait.
My Love for Bindu was not romantic. It was not sexual. I felt those types of Love would actually demean the Love I did feel for her, which had an innocent, honest quality to it, and which was deep beyond measure. It was a Love that drove me to write her letters when I was away from her, and share every moment I could with her when in her presence, but never became a passionate fantasy, never spoke to me of "soulmates." The temple authorities did not understand this type of Love. They told her not to sit with me inside the temple any longer, and to watch her association with me in general.
There was Maria. But I didn't Love Maria. Maria was everything Bindu wasn't - with Maria, I sought to fulfill every flowery, romantic fantasy I had denied myself as a "brahmachari." Maria perhaps liked me, but she did not Love me, and she certainly did not share my need to connect with a human being of the opposite gender; thus she became my first heartbreak after finding Krishna.
There are certain people, male and female alike, that give me feelings that must be Love. When I think of them, I sometimes feel completely peaceful and calmed, supremely happy. Other times, I feel tumultuous, crashing waves of Love that are almost painful; my chest burns and my eyes water, and I want to find them to put my arms around them and hold them to me.
What is it that makes one Love romantic and another "Platonic"? Most of my close friends are female, and I Love them with all my heart; what makes that different from the Love I feel for my partner? Is sexual interest the only distinguishing factor, and if so, what if I told you that I found all of my close female friends indescribably attractive? Do we simply arbitrarily choose our object of romantic Love because we know we can't have more than one?
All I know, at this point, is that I want Love to be the defining characteristic of my life. I capitalize it because I hold it more sacred than anything; inside Love is everything else I hold dear, such as Understanding and Support. Love to me is the Patience to Understand another; the withholding of judgment; an undying Support for one who needs you. It must be more than just a feeling in one's chest; it must be active, living, breathing. Love is constantly in motion; it's demonstrative.
Earlier this year, I lost a friend who I Loved with all my heart. He said some very hurtful, evil things to me. A year or two ago, I would have shown him my pain; I would have ground him into the earth with words of anger and hatred. But this time, I told him I Loved him. Though it has since dwindled away, I needed him to know it at the time. He could not go away from me without knowing how much he meant to me for so long.
This does not really answer your question, A.L., but it is what I feel when I think of Love, for what it's worth.
QUOTE (zvs @ Sep 22 2009, 04:50 AM) 
What is it that makes one Love romantic and another "Platonic"? Most of my close friends are female, and I Love them with all my heart; what makes that different from the Love I feel for my partner? Is sexual interest the only distinguishing factor, and if so, what if I told you that I found all of my close female friends indescribably attractive?
If we go back to the historical origins of the "Platonic love" notion, it turns out far from its current usage. What Plato described (approvingly), and which later led to the expression being coined, was the transitory romantic and sexual relationships between men. In those times these were socially accepted and were often between an older man and a young one just beginning to climb the social ladder. Typically before the younger lover entered a (heterosexual) marriage.
I read about it in Martha Nussbaum, Sex & Social Justice. It's probably described in other places too.
QUOTE
Do we simply arbitrarily choose our object of romantic Love because we know we can't have more than one?
I suspect so. Sometimes one can catch oneself being strongly touched, moved or inspired by a person of opposite sex, in a way that could develop into romance if one were looking for it.
Maybe for non-heterosexual people who aren't aware of their orientation yet, this would also apply to their crushes on same-sex persons. They don't evolve into romantic love because one doesn't have a notion that they could.
QUOTE (Dhyana @ Sep 22 2009, 03:06 PM)
QUOTE
Do we simply arbitrarily choose our object of romantic Love because we know we can't have more than one?
I suspect so. Sometimes one can catch oneself being strongly touched, moved or inspired by a person of opposite sex, in a way that could develop into romance if one were looking for it.
I was thinking about this more this morning, on my way to the courthouse, desperately looking for a parking space. Does all love between those with a possible romantic link have the potential to be transformed?
I have, for some time, rejected the hyperbole that is usually expressed in relationships. To my girlfriend, I have never, ever said, "You're my everything," "you mean everything to me," "I love you more than anything," "You're the only one I could ever want," etc, because I simply know them not to be true. If one single person literally meant everything to me, it'd be a dangerous emotional life, indeed. And to express such, I feel, is to demean the other things I do value.
But that final one - that one where we convince ourselves that we could only ever want this one person standing before us - is troubling, and yet I have to admit: I know there is far more than one person with whom I could imagine myself. I have a lot of friends with whom I know I'd have an amazing relationship, if I look at them honestly. Now what has prevented those friendships from turning into romance, and what differentiates my current relationship from any of those friendships? Is it really simply a label that we slap on our connection with someone, because (1) we know we love them and (2) we know we must be monogamous?
No one wants to think that their relationship boils down to such a thing. But then again, even if it did, does that demean the relationship? I don't think so. Love is per se beautiful and so is the dedication you show to the person with whom you've decided to share your life in so unique a way.
".....Some kinds of love, are better than others...."
It is one big nail into the coffin neo-GV-theory. That there is only one "highest" love. It does not make sense from any point of view. And not even GV-philosophically. So let's just bury the idea, together with other ISKCON nonsense speculated ideas.
It is one big nail into the coffin neo-GV-theory. That there is only one "highest" love. It does not make sense from any point of view. And not even GV-philosophically. So let's just bury the idea, together with other ISKCON nonsense speculated ideas.
QUOTE (zvs @ Sep 22 2009, 04:14 PM)
I was thinking about this more this morning, on my way to the courthouse, desperately looking for a parking space. Does all love between those with a possible romantic link have the potential to be transformed?
I have, for some time, rejected the hyperbole that is usually expressed in relationships. To my girlfriend, I have never, ever said, "You're my everything," "you mean everything to me," "I love you more than anything," "You're the only one I could ever want," etc, because I simply know them not to be true. If one single person literally meant everything to me, it'd be a dangerous emotional life, indeed. And to express such, I feel, is to demean the other things I do value.
But that final one - that one where we convince ourselves that we could only ever want this one person standing before us - is troubling, and yet I have to admit: I know there is far more than one person with whom I could imagine myself. I have a lot of friends with whom I know I'd have an amazing relationship, if I look at them honestly. Now what has prevented those friendships from turning into romance, and what differentiates my current relationship from any of those friendships? Is it really simply a label that we slap on our connection with someone, because (1) we know we love them and (2) we know we must be monogamous?
No one wants to think that their relationship boils down to such a thing. But then again, even if it did, does that demean the relationship? I don't think so. Love is per se beautiful and so is the dedication you show to the person with whom you've decided to share your life in so unique a way.
I have, for some time, rejected the hyperbole that is usually expressed in relationships. To my girlfriend, I have never, ever said, "You're my everything," "you mean everything to me," "I love you more than anything," "You're the only one I could ever want," etc, because I simply know them not to be true. If one single person literally meant everything to me, it'd be a dangerous emotional life, indeed. And to express such, I feel, is to demean the other things I do value.
But that final one - that one where we convince ourselves that we could only ever want this one person standing before us - is troubling, and yet I have to admit: I know there is far more than one person with whom I could imagine myself. I have a lot of friends with whom I know I'd have an amazing relationship, if I look at them honestly. Now what has prevented those friendships from turning into romance, and what differentiates my current relationship from any of those friendships? Is it really simply a label that we slap on our connection with someone, because (1) we know we love them and (2) we know we must be monogamous?
No one wants to think that their relationship boils down to such a thing. But then again, even if it did, does that demean the relationship? I don't think so. Love is per se beautiful and so is the dedication you show to the person with whom you've decided to share your life in so unique a way.
I think the notion that one person should be everything to us or THE ONLY ONE we could ever love, etc., is a dangerous one and leads to things like battered women staying far too long with their abuser, or people committing suicide because they've lost what they think is THE ONLY ONE. Women are fed this romantic crap from early childhood on and soak it in. Add in an absent parent and one has the recipe for disaster. But so much in our culture reinforces this notion, and add in the new age talk about "soulmate" which just brings it to a new level.
On a planet with billions of people of course there is more than one person we could find happiness and romance with. I have nothing against polyamorous relationships--some people can make them work. I myself tend to be monogamous by nature, not really being interested in the logistical headaches involved with multiple partners and dates and such. Too complicated for me! I'll confine my non-monogamous moments to fantasy.
All I know is my dog loves me more than anyone else on the planet does. I don't know what category that fits into.
Hmmm. I feel, that quantification of any sort doesn't quite cut it. Hmmm, and that the kinds, the types, the styles, dog, god, mata, pita, child, stirrings in your breast when you see beauty, pity, whatever, whatever, these differentiations are language things only. Somewhat like you have all said, in different ways, I guess I just wrote this because I was disturbed by my own paltry categorizations. High love, low love, not enough, too much, pah! Certainly at this time in my life, maybe, maybe because also, it's autumn, and my autumn, and I am a creature with seasons, and that's as it, not only should be, but is, that I'm angry at myself for judging my loves, and then I don't even want to be angry anymore. Nor judge. I feel very strongly, that it's one big thing all the same, and not a thing atall, but a continuum, and that language doesn't deal with continuums so well; it's more like music.
Perhaps because I've had trouble with monogamy, whether it stretch to marriage or God love, my envisioning of the question was coloured. That's a strange irony; I'm calling all the loves 'one', but when I try to do just 'one', I fail. Pah! Maybe the fault lies in the language I use, which, well, talking about it, writing about it, is in a way a meagre messenger.
Buh. Thanks for answering you all. I been reading these replies, but stayed silent because I knew if I replied it would come out like this! A hodge-podge.
Something, someone, that is, loves something or someone else, that is. That's just gotta be good enough for now. Even when I haven't been good at loving, others have loved me. And that has sustained me 'til my next try at loving. So it's a big circle.
Perhaps because I've had trouble with monogamy, whether it stretch to marriage or God love, my envisioning of the question was coloured. That's a strange irony; I'm calling all the loves 'one', but when I try to do just 'one', I fail. Pah! Maybe the fault lies in the language I use, which, well, talking about it, writing about it, is in a way a meagre messenger.
Buh. Thanks for answering you all. I been reading these replies, but stayed silent because I knew if I replied it would come out like this! A hodge-podge.
Something, someone, that is, loves something or someone else, that is. That's just gotta be good enough for now. Even when I haven't been good at loving, others have loved me. And that has sustained me 'til my next try at loving. So it's a big circle.
I love you Apres Laulyam, you are a good one.
I Dig Love
I dig love
I dig love
I dig love
I dig love in the morning
I dig love in the evening
I dig love, and I want you to know
I dig love
I love dig
I love dig
I love dig
I love dig in the morning
I love dig in the evening
I need love, and I want you to know,
I dig love
So, don't dig love, I don't care love
Don't give love to me
I put my love anywhere, love
C'mon and get it, it's free
I dig love
I dig love
I dig love
I dig love in the morning
I dig love in the evening
I dig love, but I want you to know
I dig love
Oh my love's always there, love, always there to see
Make love, take love, but you should give love
Try to let love, c'mon that's the way it should be
I dig love
I dig love
I dig love
I dig love in the morning
I dig love in the evening
I dig love, and I want you to know
I dig love, and I want you to know
I dig love, and I want you to know
I dig love
--George Harrison
I dig love
I dig love
I dig love
I dig love in the morning
I dig love in the evening
I dig love, and I want you to know
I dig love
I love dig
I love dig
I love dig
I love dig in the morning
I love dig in the evening
I need love, and I want you to know,
I dig love
So, don't dig love, I don't care love
Don't give love to me
I put my love anywhere, love
C'mon and get it, it's free
I dig love
I dig love
I dig love
I dig love in the morning
I dig love in the evening
I dig love, but I want you to know
I dig love
Oh my love's always there, love, always there to see
Make love, take love, but you should give love
Try to let love, c'mon that's the way it should be
I dig love
I dig love
I dig love
I dig love in the morning
I dig love in the evening
I dig love, and I want you to know
I dig love, and I want you to know
I dig love, and I want you to know
I dig love
--George Harrison
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