Self-love

Like Action Like Thought

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Another blog about trust. Eyy.

Today I want to dedicate my writing to Komal. I love you dearly friend. And when people learn to witness you correctly, we will all be better for it. This is also dedicated to Mikey. For you, there’s a part two.

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Humans typically have much more in common than not in many ways. In healthy humans we have similar needs for staying alive. We typically have the same circuitry to allow emotional experience. We all must find our way in this world. As far as we know all of us live on the planet or in nearby space stations.





It’s a simple mistake.




We meet someone volunteering at the free farm stand and we assume that because we love giving back to our community, so do they. They must have a similar desire to engage generously with their time. And as we chat we discover that they love the same artists as we do, we start associating them with having a similar emotional or political sensibility. How can you love Serj Tankian and not care about his politics? But as we meet them for lunch one day and see how disgusted they are by the unhoused man on the corner… we notice something feels a little off. We go back to the farmstand and they’re not there. After a few questions we find out their presence had been court mandated. And it was “better than picking up someone else’s trash on the freeway.”





People frequently mistake “like action” with “like thought.”




And I find it feels like it’s not discussed enough, if ever, in the circles I move in. I find for many people, it is preferable to take like actions while never discussing their real opinions and perspectives in their personal and communal relationships. The unspoken rule seems to be “what should be done is what is socially agreed upon and what is suspected not to be agreed upon ought to be consciously or unconsciously avoided.” 





On the other hand it is incredibly common to watch conflict arise when opinions and perspectives are understood to be similar, but different courses of action are found preferable. As if the rejection of one’s actions are tantamount to a rejection of the individual. Of their reason or rightness or righteousness.




Even amongst intellectuals, there is safety in group think.




And what is not openly justified with a rational explanation, but intuition, whether a positive hunch or distrust, can be treated as foolish and chaotic. Even if if the hunch is a prediction based on evidence:




In 1994 Joycelyn Elders, surgeon general, was stripped of her position, disgraced and pilloried about her personal opinions on health and wellness, because she had outspoken, progressive(at the time) beliefs that were too radical. How dare she suggest masturbation was natural and might be a part of sex education, believing that it could lead to less teen pregnancy, economic empowerment for women, and slow the spread of STDs? Americans were not ready for that level of sex positivity. And we still suffer today because of it. As recently as 2020 I have watched a number of a confidant’s friendships end over their caution about the covid vaccine, even though the person in question was neither against vaccines nor ignoring covid regulations. Their faith in their fellow Americans was shaken by the zealous scientism of people hoping that their trust in modern technology would bring them back to a pre-covid world. And when it didn’t, blaming “those people” who “just couldn’t listen to reason” and “do what they were told” was treated as the problem. Acting as if the issue wasn’t much more complex and the reality was that vaccine or not, unless people were of the same mind, and willing to work together, zero covid wasn’t going to happen anyway. But even as partisan rhetoric, and conspiracy abounded in the US, communally the population of New Zealand in 2020 actually managed to be covid free for a time, while Americans were dying in droves and calling the disease a hoax. What happened in New Zealand was a reflection of what humanity is capable of when like action and like thought combine. Unity instead of division.

 

And even then, it’s still more complex.




Sometimes, when someone does what we do, it can be irritating. Especially when we assume that they’re not thinking for themselves or that they're trying to profit from our hard work. Perhaps it comes from hypocrisy or self hatred, which is a topic for another day. But when we assume imitation is because they like, admire, or agree with us, imitation becomes the highest form of flattery.




Imitation is primal. It’s how babies learn. And cooperation is cohesion. To be like, creates kinship. Kinship creates legacy, for better or for worse.




Similarly, when someone doesn’t do what we do… When they refuse our guidance or reject our ways, it can feel like an attack on our reasoning, identity, or even our validity. We can over identify with our actions and thoughts, surely. But we can also become dependent on agreement, requiring acceptance or validation, lest we face distress. But when we are secure in ourselves, the differences can be something to marvel at and in many cases benefit from.




Our relationship to these presumptions is that they shortcut needing to vet every individual directly. But this leads to its own problems. We don't just confuse like action for like thought. We mistake community with agreement.




I said earlier that a seemingly unspoken rule of social harmony is, “What should be done is what is socially agreed upon and what is suspected not to be agreed upon ought to be consciously or unconsciously avoided.”




And I have a theory as to why this happens.




Many of us have an unconscious competence in the space of submission and agreeability. Whether it came from an authoritarian guardian or the institutions to which we are beholden and subject, it can easily be internalized that hiding or ignoring differences potentially benefits the common good. If we don’t need to know each other’s politics to get our shelter built, it doesn’t really make sense to give ourselves reasons to distrust each other or to not cooperate. If we all love the same person, it does not make sense to focus on our differences and ruin the experience of togetherness on their birthday. It’s imprudent to talk about religion and politics not because people don’t want to know what others believe or care about their truths… but because when the conversation begins, questions of one’s identity are involved. The authorities to which they may submit their thinking to are called into question, and it is possible that even a casual interaction will end with an inadvertent, or intentional attack on the identity of a person. Sure people are people, and not their religion or political party(over-identify as they may) but the state of online discourse and news media couldn’t be what they are if it couldn’t FEEL that way. 




If a christian living in Ohio can feel persecuted because christianity is outlawed in foreign countries, an inability to sympathize or empathize can derail an otherwise productive interaction. Sure, a christian may be of a protected class, where you are, from your perspective. But that’s not their perspective, no matter how out of touch it is with your own perception of reality. Beneath their existential dread is the same humanity any person concerned for themselves and people like them is likely to express. Rejecting that they are persecuted because others who they identify with have been persecuted, is your choice. But if you make that the crux of your argument, you’re engaged in whataboutism. Regardless of your feelings about christianity, if you replace that identity in with some other demographic, it becomes pretty clear. People who identify with a demographic can feel that the capacity to deny the reality of their potential persecution somewhere in the world is indicative of a lack of concern with their safety and wellbeing. Replace christians with lgbtq, ukranians, jews, palestinians, uighurs, armenians, trans people.




The lines we draw about who deserves empathy create tribal lines of us and them, which derail our capacity for unity. There is one human race. (Even if there wasn’t, our mistreatment of life reflects poorly on our capacity to wield power, and illuminates our own potential for callous and abusive behavior. It does not reflect the potential or quality of the exploited beings.)  This practice of submitting to our tribes decrease of which people and things are deserving of platforms and aid is an example of the divisive nature of our shortcutting and submissiveness and agreeability. Activists, changemakers, and revolutionaries must answer to higher or deeper authorities than group think.




These positive and negative attributes that we give people based on our understandings of self and our like actions affect us at every level. I’m sure sociology has a sophisticated term for the positive prejudice of assuming likeness.




Beyond Objectification: Exploring the Complexity of Sex and Humanity

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I met a circus performer who wanted to create a piece about what it is to be sexualized and it reminded me of something I wrote a couple years ago. I told myself I would go back to it, and never did. So, firstly I’d like to thank Sydney, because without her, you likely might not be seeing this:

I wanted to write about sexual objectification, but I feel like I can’t really do that without talking about what sex is.


What is sex? 

“Sex is where babies come from.” 

Birds do it, bees do it,

then the bees help the plants do it. 

Sex is the genesis of complex life. It turns a uterus into the portal through which new consciousness arises. It allows two cells, under the correct circumstances and consequence cascade, to become many millions of cells, unified into a series of singular experiences. 

Nurtured appropriately, they become many trillions of cells that will consume other life and generate new experiences that even more life may witness. And these trillions of cells with their specialized roles will form a body - a body working in unison to create an experience so complex that it is likely impossible to fully understand. And that body will reconstitute the matter of this earth into the forms and fuels that will allow an awareness to turn energies and frequencies into pleasure, pain, and concepts of beauty. These forms can turn light to art, chemicals to tastes and smells, and vibrations to heat, sound, and sensation. We may hear music, and maybe we will dance. It will turn our witnessing into fear, anger, and love. We will meet strangers one day, perhaps after thousands of days have passed, and we will decide we don’t want to face the days to come without them. Or perhaps we will be the reason that they do not see another.

Sex drives human existence. We persist because things procreate. Because they have fucked and they will continue to do so. And as time has passed, our awareness around sex has shifted. As our understanding of what it is to be human changes, so too do our attitudes towards sex.

If we believe that a god cares about marriage, we may feel extreme shame and guilt over acting on sexual desires... or even simply having them. Homosexuality occurs in nature but, because of religious law, is punishable by imprisonment or death in some places. Some might have social or political motivations for sexual activity. For one wave of feminism, promiscuity and sex positivity were a symbol of liberation and rebellion. For some, it’s an economic strategy to be selected, whether by one person or by many. Whether an unwed woman from certain societies or eras needs to make a good match or a sex worker needs clients. For some, it’s experienced as essential to bonding. For others, it’s seen as a necessary evil. Still, there are the abstinent and celibate who might find emotional desolation or spiritual connection without sex. There are nuances to the conscious and unconscious understandings of what sex is and can be, for at least as many people as there are to have them.

So where does objectification come in?

One version of objectification invokes how a person really understands anything.

Objectification used to mean concretizing the abstract. Now it also means degrading someone or something’s purpose to its utility. This is problematic in the sense that this word creates loaded language. Humans understand the world through constructs. Constructs are a form of objectification. We simplify things in order to know how to interact with them.

Human constructs are immensely complex as well as complicated. Complex in the sense that there are many interconnected parts. Complicated in the sense that how each part actually relates to the others requires not just information but intuition to grasp. The phenomena in question, the observers of it, their interpretations of it... arguments for or against its very existence and the consequences of interacting with the phenomenon all play a part. How valuable a construct is in helping us understand or engage with the actual reality we are witnessing usually determines its longevity.

(It’s one thing to recognize colors; it’s another to create art that speaks to others’ spirits like it’s your job. It’s one thing to love the art you make, and another entirely to have it critiqued by people whose opinions are respected that happen to hate your guts. It’s one thing to tell someone what a color is scientifically, it’s another to teach a course on how to use it to trick the eye into seeing wondrous things to people who did not think they could be artists.) Hopefully the metaphor is not too extended.

The reason objectification is so fraught and perilous when it comes to social interactions is that we take it for granted. Someone is paid to wait on you at the restaurant. Someone is paid to do your nails at the salon. Their worth is treated as the quality of their service, but we hopefully recognize it’s so much more. Their character, care, integrity, and patience make it so that our experiences can leave us feeling like a business is our friend, or that we are nothing but a paycheck. The objectification goes both ways… and frequently if not always, it’s harmful. No matter what, something is lost.

When we lived in tribes and villages, every human wore multiple hats. We couldn’t see someone as just a shitty plumber or a rude waitress. They hunted with someone we knew. They helped tend the children. They built a barn or made the best elk jerky. The service industry was not an industry. We as communities served each other. And as the spirit of this dies, we wound our humanity.

To objectify a person is to degrade them, from a whole human at best, and from a spiritual being whom the divine witnesses you through at worst. Even if you’re not spiritual, it still sucks.

And if you don’t have to think about it frequently, you might be the one doing it. To engage with others as though the experience doesn’t matter. To treat them as replaceable, usable. To treat them as property. To act as though they are allowed to or deserve to be used, abused, or violated. In the western world, this is most intensely done to women and people of color, and media and socialization can prime children for it to happen before they’re even grown. Objectification happens when you feel like you are excused from respecting their humanity.

When we talk about sexual objectification, we’re talking about engaging in this way to make their existence, identity, and value equal to their capacity to be consumed for sexual gratification.

We’re talking about language: “she’s for the streets” “you can’t turn a hoe into a housewife.”

 We’re talking about culture. Virginity and innocence. Statistics of sex crimes. 

We’re talking about the male gaze and the corresponding female vigilance.

It’s not enough that women are portrayed as consumable; they also have to construct their path through life in relation to how they are perceived sexually. To have a powerful sense of sexuality too early can be dangerous when young women are seen as a status symbol and predatory masculinity is celebrated. To be too attractive in the workplace can hinder your successes, and to be a mother or to have the potential can limit your opportunities.

Sexuality is a dimension of existence. Before in vitro fertilization, each individual only came into existence if sex happened. Sex is potentially beautiful. The desire someone can feel for another person is powerful. It can upend one’s entire existence. The potential for love and attraction to create literal life is magnificent. When the consequences of intimacy with another person are that bits of what make them, them, and you, you, come together to find their own potential for life and love and suffering and joy, that’s its own kind of magic. You do not know what you will get. You do not know what they will do. And until you’ve met the product of that connection, you do not know how profoundly it will affect you, if you let it.

To sexualize someone is to recognize them as a sexual being. To acknowledge sex as one of their attributes or to make them “sexy.” I apparently get sexualized frequently. I don’t always know how or why, but people frequently read my existence as sexual. It might be how I dance or my devotion to my body. It might be the freedom with which I can talk about sex. It might honestly just be my skin color. Even when I was doing youth theater (I was 18+ at the time), directors would talk to me about my sex appeal, and I would not understand what they meant or what they wanted from me on stage. For me, in the earlier parts of my life, overt sexuality was a power women had. Men were just attractive or not based on the murky preferences of the female psyche or how well they fit male power fantasies, which afforded them the confidence to approach and be approached. Black people are objectified constantly, and since rumor has it we have big dicks, it only occurred to me recently that there are a number of people who probably had that specific sexual curiosity about me based on this stereotype alone. I knew from growing up around white men that it wasn’t uncommon or even taboo for them to sexualize black women when women couldn’t hear, or even to casually joke about my body or Asian men and women’s bodies.

As a person who, for a long time, identified as demisexual, I’ve personally had an experience of discovering what it is to sexualize someone only after getting to know them. To see them as beautiful in a variety of ways that simply doesn’t include sexual attractiveness. For the things they’ve chosen. The loves they’ve cultivated. For the passions of their life that have come and gone. For their unique experience of common things. For their uncommon experiences that they don’t realize are unique. For the way that they laugh or dance. For how open their hearts are or how they guard what is vulnerable or what they love. For me to discover them as a sexual being is a celebration of all of that and more. And it is also a celebration of the body they’ve brought all of this to me with. It can genuinely become a holy experience to see someone as sexual. To be invited to intimacy with them. And to offer it back. And how congruent or disjointed that experience of their pleasure can be is also delightful. People who are dominant in one place and not the other. Playful in the bedroom but not in life. Good kissers. Bad kissers. The cautious and the confident. People who have one way of being in the bedroom and people who wear a million faces. And to recognize that the experience they can have with me is only one of the many they could have. That I can’t know the full potential of our own connection. And that I could never truly know them as anyone else, no matter how much I would love to step outside myself and meet them as someone else and explore them in different ways. Sexually or not. I will never be their sister or the mother of their child. I cannot be their grandfather or their childhood friend who has never given up on them. I can only be so many people’s friend in a truly intimate way.

And honestly for me, sexuality is only one dimension of existence. And it’s one I’m perfectly happy never to explore with someone no matter how magnificent they are. Being given sexual access is a thing to honor. Because even if the participants don’t consciously experience it this way, scientists have discovered that when a lover connects with us sexually, it tells us that things are ok. That we are accepted as we are. And if we fail to communicate in so many ways over so many topics, touch can say for us what words cannot.

Of course, that power is misused... but that’s a topic for another day.

For me, finding the nonsexual connection that says, “I unconditionally accept you, as you appear in each moment,” is the most important part of constructing any intimate relationship. It may be because I was celibate for a time and instinctively felt I must find some other way of holding the space and intimacy of sex if I wasn’t going to have romantic love as a part of my life, but still felt a deep desire to connect with others.

We frequently destroy the beauty of sexuality with objectification. In a western world where capital is king and relationships themselves can be reduced to another set of transactions, sexualization is frequently objectification. In a world spun by money, anyone who exists is likely going to be reduced to their monetary worth.

And for a woman, in a world where across the board they earn less for the same work a man does, what are we telling them about their worth?

When the only arenas where women are expected to earn more than men are fashion modeling and sex work, what are we telling women about their worth?

And when the rules of society rob a woman of her value for how sexually promiscuous she is perceived to be, while a man’s promiscuity in similar ways could be socially rewarded, what are we telling our children about equity? About what it means to respect themselves and each other? About who they are allowed to be?

And when we defend the status quo of sexual objectification, what are we telling our daughters and our sons? It’s clearly not that they are perfectly worthy of love the way that they are. And not that they all deserve to be respected equally for how they embody their truths, make their own mistakes, and grow into who it lights up their soul to be.

We are trauma bonded with society if we allow it to erode our sense of self-worth as a function of the system. If we say that it is ok for society to treat any person as an object, we teach ourselves and our children to accept this treatment if those circumstances ever come about in their lives. (This is actually a question of justice, but that’ll be for a different time).

So even with all the social complexity layered into our experiences of sexuality, we are still animals. Conditioned and instinctual.

For animals and plants out in nature, there can be clear seasonal and environmental triggers that dictate when reproduction happens. It’s an automatic process. And to be sexually successful is to be successful. 

That is what success is.

To be healthy enough to do it and to be attractive or seductive enough to mate. To have enough resources for the offspring to mature.

That’s what success is.

For some, it’s so cut and dry, sex is a death sentence. The male antechinus, some octopuses, some spiders, and many praying mantises die shortly after mating. For at least female ferrets, a lack of sex is a death sentence. For male lions, if they cannot find a pride, they live alone or die fighting to get or keep one.

We may think of ourselves as more evolved. We think our behaviors are less “automatic.” But experiencing your own humanity and allowing yourself to be programmed and conditioned not to think, and not to imbue others with the fullness of their humanity at every chance you get is an argument against that. To degrade another human to protect, improve, or maintain your social status is an argument against that idea. To treat other beings as objects, outside of the context of mutually consensual play is an argument against that. I can’t think of another species on this planet that can be developmentally traumatized by seeing its own kind naked or mating because it’s been conditioned to be so unnatural that the most natural things are aberrant. We do not just pay with money, but with time and experiences. With our psyches. We make endless exchanges. We pay not to see trash. We pay to hide death. We’ve made objectification business as usual and intimacy transactional. And we pay the prices for all these purchases with the fullness of our humanity.

And if you are dissatisfied with the experience, what you’re getting probably isn’t worth the cost.

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If this spoke to you, I’d love for you to leave a comment. If you think this would speak to someone else, share it. If this helps you say something you could not put words to, I am blessed to be of service.

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And if you are Sydney Billings, thank you for reminding me to take the time to say all of this.

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I wrote this for every woman I’ve ever known. For my sisters. For every daughter I haven’t had. For every woman whose hands have ever felt forced where love and sex is concerned. That sexism and objectification are the standards that they must accept. I’m sorry for all the men in your life that didn’t have the courage to stand up for you when you needed them. For the ones who simply don’t care. For the ones who believe this is the proper order of the world. The ones that the double standards are dogma for.



I am sorry for every time you have had to fear that what you are won’t matter in the face of your capacity to be objectified. For everyone who has ever been trafficked or abused. For everyone who lost their job or friends or family because of sex positivity or youthful exuberance a man would never be punished for.  I’m sorry that any of you have lived a life where the fullness of what each person is, ends up discarded for what can be used, or what is convenient. I am sorry that I can’t snap my fingers and fix the ills of society. You deserve to be seen not just as whole but divine. And I think the greatest sin I will ever commit is failing to honor that.



How Can I Trust You?

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49 “She is good to people who are good. She is also good to people who aren’t good. This is true goodness. She trusts people who are trustworthy. She trusts people who aren’t trustworthy. This is true trust.”

Lao Tzu, Tao Te Ching

How can I trust you?

Trust is a funny thing.

Trust is inextricably linked to personal truths.

Some of us don’t recognize that truths are personal. Even if we believe we know the "objective" truth with deep conviction, the reality is that this truth is a personal interpretation of a personal perspective on a concept or phenomenon.

And that perspective might change.

If you think you’re a relatively consistent person and that your views on things likely won’t change, consider this:

Have you ever met someone who used to be a devout believer but is now full of doubts? (Gnostic Theist - Pure Agnostic) Or who started as an atheist and then became a devout believer? (Gnostic Atheist - Gnostic Theist)

If we were to ask them at either point why they believe what they believe, they would have a distinctly different answer than they would have at the other point in their journey. You might even be that person if you ever believed in Santa Claus or the Tooth Fairy.

Somehow, more or different information changed their sense of what may have been an absolute truth and fundamental to their understanding of the structure of reality.

They are arguably the same person, but from moment to moment, their truth shifts.

They may not be tomorrow the person that made you that promise today. And perhaps their vow to harm you will go unfulfilled... Or the promise to help you. And you may or may not carry the effects of this broken promise with you. Whether it gave you grace or grief.

Instead of fooling myself into believing that I am not capable of anything another human is capable of, in terms of actions or belief, I made peace very early in life with the fact that I simply have not encountered the circumstances that would lead to me taking an action or adopting a belief. I discover what would make violence and dishonesty tempting. I make peace with the reality that the kind of patterns I cultivate are responsible for what I do or don’t do. I’m not a murderer or martyr today, but do I know what I would kill or die for?

When I tell myself what my convictions are, do I live into them? Appreciating the chance life has given me to honor the values I claim I wish to uphold. Or do I wither in the face of challenge, much less difficulty or inconvenience?

If I allow myself to perpetually make my choices based on convenience, who will I become when the immoral action is convenient? If I do not practice discipline, where will it come from when I need it?

If I am unwilling to answer these kinds of questions, what am I really telling myself? Is it that I don’t want or cannot handle the responsibility of self-actualization? That I don’t actually want to feel culpable, if I get caught up in the role of the abuser or oppressor? That I don’t want to take responsibility for my agency in avoiding/overcoming/accepting helplessness or victimhood? That I am somehow better than others, when I find myself in the circumstance of being the hero... not because I faced my weaknesses or ignorance, but because I am a noble soul destined for greatness?

If I reflect on who I’ve been, what does it say about who I’m taking responsibility for becoming?

So in light of that:

What does it mean to trust?

Where does my faith come from when I trust? The strength of my convictions? Hope? Fear? Whose integrity galvanizes mine? Corrodes it?

If you “trust” someone, have you considered what you’re actually saying about your relationship to them, your own perspectives, and reality?

  • You might actually be expressing that you believe they are afraid of the consequences of breaking trust with you. (a punitive incentive)

  • You might actually be expressing that you believe they want to honor whatever leads them to build trust with you. (an equanimous/reciprocal experience)

  • You might also be actually expressing that you are fully accepting of whatever actions they take, regardless of if they are going to break trust with you, because you “trust the process.” (transcendent trust in reality itself)

People can flow through these experiences of trust and trustworthiness. Experiencing different versions in different aspects of relationships or even just different circumstances at different times of day. Are we cultivating transcendent trust, or do we stumble into it when high on divinity or drugs? Of course this is general and non-comprehensive, as anything that I write will be.

No model is ever the thing itself.

I started by asking how can I trust you? But I suppose we’ve arrived somewhere else:

How do I trust myself? Is my trust a shackle, a gift, or even divinity honored?

When I am afraid to trust, what am I really afraid of?

Love As a Fire

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Loving people correctly is like tending a tiny fire in their heart. We all have these little fires to tend. However, if we tend them incorrectly, they can be smothered by too much fuel or put out by too much wind. Neglected, they can be choked by their own ashes or burn through all their fuel.

We can share our fires with others. By learning to tend our own fire, we can teach others how to tend it, too.

We can even help them with their own. For those of us who have had to restart the fire when it has been put out, we have the ability to share the methods of how we did that with those who are experiencing it for the first time. For those who have lived life primarily without this fire, even if we have as well, we can love them from the place of having that fire built. It may be tempting to put ours out to feel accepted or to dim its light to belong, but that temptation is worth resisting.

Then there are those who want to love us and tend to our fires. If someone wants to tend your fire, there is a risk that they will do it wrong. In order not to hurt their feelings, you might put in extra work to pretend that's not the case. However, each mistake is a potential teaching moment. Few people enjoy being shamed for doing something incorrectly or ineffectively, but many people love to learn to do something properly and even excel at it. Hiding the truth denies them the opportunity to grow as someone who loves you, and it denies you the opportunity to grow in the strength of vulnerability. Hiding the truth robs both parties of opportunities to witness each other's character.

Telling someone you love them in a love language they understand and accept tends the fire. Telling someone you love them in a way that truly resonates fuels that fire. Loving them through your actions, without feeling entitled to the fruits of those actions, allows love to become a prayer. Loving without entitlement to outcomes is a practice of unconditional love. If you can do this, the love you give becomes miraculous. It lives beyond transactional ways of meeting your needs through energy exchanges and exists as an expression of your own divinity. It is a sacred trust in being something and someone that life is happening for, not to. It is the capacity to take action because it feels right to you, not because you are compelling reality to produce a certain result for you.

It's not to say that any one way of loving is better than another or that one is right and the other is wrong. For those who cannot consciously feel safe with intimacy, love is anxiety-inducing and dangerous. It does not feel rewarding to share your light or your fire. And if you do not have the means to easily reignite it, or to tend to it when it is weak, or someone to turn to—people to safely and happily turn to—when you do not know what it needs, then why should you ever leave it in the care of someone who you cannot verify will care for it well? It is selfish of others to demand you do as they do when they have never experienced a similar precariousness.

To those who have lived a life where risks were worth taking because the community was full of people to tend their fire, and resources for feeding and starting it were plentiful—those who could even be a little careless with the fires of others because everyone would clearly be okay unless something catastrophic happened—how could they not be careless? Their privilege was to make mistakes repeatedly, without even having to learn from them. From their perspective, those mistakes are their birthright and not even mistakes at all, perhaps. If anyone has ever told you to “trust the process” you know that means that it’s ok to fail, and to make mistakes. To learn experientially.

When all of these different experiences meet, it is easy to reject that which is not like us due to the difficulty, discomfort, or pain proximity causes. Things that may seem like care to one could be an act of aggression or betrayal to another. Some incessantly tease out of love where others decidedly only have the ability to mock. And how we interpret or misinterpret intentions makes all the difference.

Let’s start with love as seeing the worthiness of a thing to experience beneficence, like a parent to a child. This, consciously or not, is the first love one is capable of succeeding or failing to experience personally. And whether it is experienced or not deeply affects one's capacity to develop healthy, life-affirming relationships with aspects of oneself, community, and environment. It becomes easier to see why one projects the worthiness of beneficence onto that which is like them if they have learned to believe they are worthy of love. It is also easier to see how many things can go awry when that belief in one's own foundational experience of worthiness of beneficence and grace is missing or conditional.



What is Love?

Guys.

It’s come to my attention that I should never have deleted my blog about self-love.

What is love?

A feeling? An action? A state of mind? Is love all? Is God love?

This a question that each person can only truly answer for themselves.

I realized at some point I was getting tired of trying to explain what I believe love is. My mother told me I need to stop arguing with people about things, so I decided to write a blog so that if someone wanted to argue with me, they could just go read my blog and leave their argument in the comment section. I don’t have time to catch people up on everything I’ve meditated on, thought, or read about love in the last 1/4 century of living…

So here’s my answer:

For me it’s been a developing aspect of my existence, until it became the lens through which I see my existence. But now I believe that in my best moments, it’s really the fabric of my existence.

To really grasp this, you’d have to understand how I see myself I guess. And maybe we’ll get there.

I promised on twitter that I would write about love until there was nothing left to say. And as long as it feeds my spirit to do so, I guess that’s what I’m going to be up to.

Maybe I can’t transmit fully the secret of my endless joy, but it seems like something worth documenting for those who need to know someone is out there who might be entertaining similar ideas.

I have a whole theory about love as unconditional in it’s purest state. About how love exists everywhere we can look for it. About how it comes in many incomplete forms and conditional forms that enslave us, but how when we truly access unconditional love, it is transformative.

A love that is always there to support and uplift us.

If you don’t know what I’m talking about, perhaps you should come back.