But I love you dammit!

I thought it was appropriate on Valentine's Day to talk about love. When I was growing up I was very suspicious of those 3 little words: I love you. I knew even as a child that there was something else going on there. The words almost never seemed to be a spontaneous outpouring of love and affection and I never used them myself. I didn't want to have anything to do with them until I had some sense of what they actually meant. Because what I heard was "I love you...(expectant pause...don't you understand what that MEANS?? You're supposed to love me back.)" or "(I really can't believe how stupid and selfish you're being but) I love you (anyway I guess because it's what I'm supposed to do.)" or "I love you (but I'm going to sigh now and be a martyr because you're not turning out to be who I wanted you to be.)" It rarely sounded like, "I love you (because you are such a fabulous over the top incredible person that really who wouldn't love you just for being you?)"

Even as I got older and got some experience at falling in love, I didn't feel like it was a terribly practical emotion. And I had to empathize with the folks who sent me the mixed messages of my youth once I had a few of my own under my belt. Here are some of my own personal favorites that I trot out periodically: "I love you (you asshole! You can't do this to me!)" and "I love you. (Don't you dare leave!)" and "I love you (and I need reassurance that you're still here.)" oh and here's a good one "I love you (even though you're being really shitty, because I am a better person than you are.)"

Even with all that craziness, I still do have a sense of a deep and abiding love that I am connected to, and that connects me to all of these other people, somewhere deeper than these frantic emotional blips on the screen. But how to find that part and express it clearly? You know how Air Supply (oh, come on, admit it...you LOVE these guys too!!) sings about being Lost in Love? Well, sometimes I feel like it's more like the love gets lost underneath all these other things that seem to come along for the ride.

But recently my journey has taken me to some interesting stops along this particular ride. I had begun taking meditative walks at the turning of the seasons, opening to the energy of the earth and sun and sky at the times of solar holidays. On one of my walks on Samhain, I had a sense of something saying to me, "Nothing is required of you." And I kept waiting for the "except....", as in "except to be loving", "except to be nice to people", "except to go organize your basement", or something along those lines. But nothing else came except my own thought...does that mean that I am enough? Exactly as I am?

Around that same time, I had an assignment to write some sort of affirmation. I was very focused on human limitation at that time because a friend of mine was dying so I was trying to find something endless and infinitely large to hold on to. And this is what I wrote: I am created of divine love and my capacity for joy is endless. And you know I actually believe the damn thing.

I just read a book called Lovingkindness by Sharon Salzberg and began adding meditation on this Buddhist principle to my other thoughts on love. And I realized two things (well, three if you count the fact that my basement really DOES need to be organized): One was that I believe that the universe wants me here, that it has organized all its energy and its molecules to make space for me, and that it rejoices in my presence, and two was that almost always when we say "I love you" it's bound to be more about the "I" than the "you", simply from the construction of the sentence (subject/verb/object). But when I thought about the people whom I love, but with whom I have these very human difficulties, I realized that I also believe the universe rejoices in their presence, too, and that the world is better off with them here, and that regardless of what happens between us, I'm really glad they're here, on this earth, in this life. It doesn't get rid of the difficulties of "I love you" but it's good to know.

copyright 2007 J. Autumn Needles