Saturday, June 27, 2015

Report from the Love Shack


Thank you for your comments on my previous post about love. I've been reading them over and over again. I appreciate your wisdom, your stories, and your honesty from the bottom of my heart.

It's not too late to leave a comment if you haven't done so already. I'm listening. Tell me what you know.

Just scroll down to the previous post.

3 comments:

Elizabeth said...

I hope you found that heart today and that your life is filled with love -- not just the usual and spectacular kind with children and parents and friends but the other kind, too. You know.

Not Blank said...

Regarding romantic love - I fell in love for the first time just 3 years ago. When it happened, I realized I had never really loved the man I spent 33 years with.
I'm so glad I am getting to experience romantic love, finally. I am very fortunate, I know.

Anonymous said...

Denise,

Took me a long time to think about this comment. And time is a big part of this thing called love. It can happen in an instant, or it can take years to develop. It can last a lifetime, or it can fade suddenly. Why is that so? I think it's mostly because life and the universe are all about change. We all change over time, and we like to think that we gain wisdom and become better people. Of course, many of us don't. We lose our way, and are no longer the person that our lover "fell" for. Or we don't like the changes we see in the one we love. Maybe those things we don't like were always there and we overlooked them, or we fell so fast we didn't have time to notice them. Our circumstances and the stresses in our live change, and often the love is not strong or deep enough to withstand them.

Ultimately, we each have our own personal concept of love, and that concept may not be shared by both lovers. To know that we have fallen in love is not a simple matter - is it simply infatuation or lust, either of which may not last? Often time is cited as the test of true love, but who's to say that a feeling that faded too quickly was not really love? Poets and playwrights and artists and filmmakers and ordinary Janes and Joes have struggled for centuries to figure it all out, but they can't define it for us. The best they can do is offer images that strike a chord of recognition within us, that shared experience that brings us a little closer to understanding. And then life throws us another curveball, and there we are, just as bewildered as ever, standing there with the bat in our hands as the players run off the field and the fans head for the turnstiles.

Jim