Below is what I like to think of as an Insta-Blog. It's when I get something, or think of something and I know for sure that I need to process it and write about it. And now that I have a blog...well...whatta perfect place to do that.
So I got this quote in an email from someone. It was an answered prayer- a note truly from the mouth of God. I have since shared it with friends, re-read it many many times and now am writing about it. Simply put, it is incredible.
“Love is a temporary madness; it erupts like volcanoes and then subsides. And when it subsides you have to make a decision. You have to work out whether your roots have so entwined together that it is inconceivable that you should ever part. Because this is what love is. Love is not breathlessness, it is not excitement, it is not the promulgation of eternal passion. That is just being in love, which any fool can do. Love itself is what is left over when being in love has burned away, and this is both an art and a fortunate accident. Those that truly love have roots that grow towards each other underground, and when all the pretty blossoms have fallen from their branches, they find that they are one tree and not two.” ~Louis de Bernieres
What resonates with me about this quote:
The idea of all that love is not. All that love is not is passion/excitement/breathlessness. Any fool can do this. No one really talks about all that love is not. Just all that it is.
The idea that one in love must ultimately come to a decision. That is so so SOO true. The passion of love will always subside. And when it does, the decision must be made.
The idea that it is inconceivable that the person who you are in love with and you should ever part. Inconceivable. Not likely, or maybe, or sad or scary. Inconceivable. Like losing a limb. Simply inconceivable. That is love. There should be a Hallmark card that says that. It's perfection.
The idea that love is what is left over after all has faded away. And it does. And it will. Love is what is left. Love is everything that is left.
The idea that love is the ultimate and eternal entwining of tree roots. The tree to me is the ultimate symbol of perfect life. It always has been. I love to be near a tree, to stare at a tree, to be under a tree, to be on a tree and to listen to a tree. They are everywhere and yet each one is significant beauty and ultimate perfection. As is, I believe, love.
The fact that the author used the word promulgation. I appreciate that word. "You had me at promulgation". :-)
The fact that love is work. Doesn't that seem counter-intuitive? What? Love is work? I thought all the work was in getting someone to love you and then the work is over? Nope. Wrong. Fail. Finally having someone to love you means you have another person willing to work the rest of their lives with you to continue to want to love you. It's a choice; not a sand pit one falls into and can't ever climb their way out of. That's not love. Love is a willing and conscious choice. Everyday that choice must be made. Or not made.
I'm not sure this would have made sense to me several years ago. I might have thought that I'd soak up the passion and breathlessness and early years of love while I could and leave the rest to the old folks. But I have learned so much and grown so deeply in the last several years and can't begin to describe the meaning this quote has for me. I get it now. A tree may lose it's leaves during a storm. It may have branches that snap off, or even parts of its' very trunk that are damaged, depending on how harsh the storm it has to weather. But that tree will not be swept away if the roots go deep and strong (unless it's a really bad tornado but stick with me here, people...). The analogies are endless. My how life is but an imitation of nature.
I guess... I am now the old folk. If that means I am wiser and I am more aware of what love truly is, and what love truly is not, then I am grateful.
No comments:
Post a Comment