Seems to me that one of the greatest mistakes I've made so far is to assume that just because it feels and felt so good to be close to them, that any of the loves of my life provide me with answers.
On the contrary, upon their attractive entrance, they open new lines of inquiry: into myself, into life itself, into what it means to love, into my past, into my deepest fears, plunging me deeper and deeper, lifting me higher and higher, below and beyond an outdated recognition of self.
In fact, as we draw closer to anyone, we are pulled into the unconscious, the out-of-control part of ourselves. All our little secrets from ourselves, once anesthetized by comfortable solitude are awakened and name-tagged by a connection that precariously and paradoxically tempts us with our oneness and announces our division.
If we live in love, if we live bravely, we are always being stretched.
We can run away. We can cling too tightly when the lessons are done. Many do. I know I have, sometimes. Then comes a time when the soul gets hungry for what it needs, overrides the silly and pointless aversion of nature and all of her gracious, healing elements.
In this staying, with anyone, we realize that it's the conscious gestures that are the rudder and the sails on our soul in a massive sea of self-and-other navigation--we learn through trials and pain to balance amidst the incessant stirring of these unconscious waters by relationship.
Essentially, the things we have conscious control over are the means to making what is inherently unpleasant--the tilling up of our most rigid personal soils--bearable and even enjoyable.
From the smallest, unseen, secret, subtle gestures to the most overt displays of affection--our conscious effort offsets what is natural with mechanisms termed civil ... even, superficially, "loving." Be they efforts toward the self or other, stuff that comes easy or changes that are tough, they are conscious.
In the end of the day, however, it is the submersion in this shadowy, unconscious sea, brave and ready for regular humiliation, that is the ultimate act of love in a universe held together by it.
I know today, who I am. But I'm ready, always ready, for you to change me, love. Because whether I surrender or not, you are doing this with every thought I think, every feeling I feel. Whether I want you to or not is irrelevant. Because you gave me life itself, we will.