On Making Love

The term ‘making love’ has been perverted by society in Western Culture, we use the phrase ‘make love’ as a euphemism for sexual innuendos or provacotive suggestions. I would beseech thee, dear reader, to relook and re-inspect with re-spect the idea and concept on what it means to “Make Love”.

One of the difficultist ideas to contain or define that is up there with truth, enlightenment, forgiveness, Grace, and reason, is the idea of Love.

Some believe that love does not exist. They see it as a ploy or a marketing gimmick to sell a rebranded package of something steamy, as if love was something that’s far off on an unreal realm of existence. Some people are disheartened and devoid of the joy of the experience.

Others use words to downplay or up play the concept of love. To say that their love is a puppy love, and to say that there is a true love.

Some people try to seek it, as much as there are truth seekers, there are love seekers. And love itself is something they so desperately want to cling to as if filling an endless gullet with a chalice of holy water. Yet love itself seems to elude them and these people may worry that their life will be a loveless one, never receiving or having had the love that they yearn for. The worry turns into fear and other emotions resulting in a perverse idea of love, settling for the nearest simulacra or strawman object to direct their attention to. Searching so hard, that they would fabricate falsehoods to settle for their specific definition.

Others try to reach the idea of love through poetry, for the languages of the world hold not a candle to the sun of something that is an experience. The Poetry describes closely to what Love is as closely as the poetry would describe that of God. Yet, in those that listen, they feel the yearning and glimmer of something more, just beyond the corner, that there exists the idea of love.

Some say that butterflies in the stomach are signs of love, and the emotions swelling are coupled to define that. Others vouch that the stillness of the heart and the calmness are the signs of love. Others say it’s the love lost, the pain, that tells you more about love after having lost it.

The sciences use their beloved and believed models to describe love as a chemical reaction, a molecule, an interaction or hormonal imbalance in a particular set or setting. This is merely one valid perspective to describe it, yet no one can explain the objective taste of a particular food, nor can they describe raw emotions. Love being the Oxytocin or chemical equivalent to the opiates and barbituates that give the expression ‘love as a drug’ meaning in a literal sense. The addicted and riddled masses chasing joy through happy pills and injections, perhaps a perverse version of love itself.

The Sciences still have work to be done in this field, and our human lens of perception is limiting us on the idea of Love, whether we try to box Love with Words or with empirical data. Our definitions are important for they shape the direction of meaning for a word, they define what the word is and what the word is not. Words Mean Things, and Love most definitely has a meaning.

For Me personally,

I do not know exactly what Love is, nor could words possibly define it as what it should be.

I’ve heard many a tales and seen many a poems and experienced my fair share of the world’s concepts. Love is much like enlightenment, there are levels and you do not attain the entirety. It’s not a one stop and then you’re done.

To me, Love is a perpetual infinite ladder of feelings that transcend the traditional ideas of monotonous rationality. There’s more layers to the onion of love and the feeling grows like rolling waves that grow more stronger shattering past expectations to what the limits of love could be.

Love sometimes feels for me, like the burning embers of a tiny sun radiating a warm glow, that would out compete my existence, like a soul within my soul that grows larger and fills me to the brim with life.

Love sometimes feels for me, like the compassionate caring of a long line of ancestral interactions embodied in the entirety of one’s being. Seeing one person and recognizing their line of ancestors, their sacrifices, their love, their entire being and seeing those relations span near infinitely shows an inkling of love.

Love sometimes feels for me, like the tiny gaze that I give to beautiful beings and see that all is alright, that if time were to stand still, I would not mind once more forevermore or for nevermore.

I’ve felt love when I went out of my way to make an entire course meal for my puppy, not having a single intention of having a bite for myself. The feeling is raw and strong, addicting even. And like moths to a flame, that feeling and energy of Love attracts others as well, it attracts those that have love as well as those that seek to obtain it or tarnish it.

Love has a strong gravitas to it, it sometimes evokes for me, the feelings of other emotions, that if time were to strip this experience of love, I’d reason a fight with Chronos himself to borrow a second more.

I’ve felt love, when looking at loved ones, I’ve felt love when caring for loved ones, I’ve felt love in being selfless and giving, and I’ll most likely feel love again and again. If I were to forget, I know it would not be long for it to return to me, and that it was never really gone. I hope you can feel the same.

And most importantly, being able to love oneself is one of the highest forms of love as well as one of the initial or foundational building blocks for love. Make Self Care a priority, and learn to love yourself and you’ll see love for others within yourself as well.

As a side note, when you do things for you, the amount of care and love you put in the work reflects upon you. If you are sloppy with your bed, or sloppy with your writing, and yet you’re the one to sleep in your bed and you’re the one to read you’re writing, in a way, you’re disrespecting yourself. So do things with care, calmness and serenity in your self care routines.

The reason I’m writing this,

Is two fold.

It is to first give my interpretation for a concept that the word cannot describe itself accurately. That concept is love itself. To spell for you that words mean things, and that words themselves do not Mean the entirety of the thing itself.

The second reason for my writing is to muse and ponder over the concept of ‘Making Love’. That phrase needs a new revival and it should not be lingering in the shadows of something specific, rather it should be all encompassing and grand. Not a profanity that makes people feel uncomfortable.

We can make loves in our lives, like a flower bed that can be cultivated.

We can plant the seeds of caring intent, and water and nurture it.

We can live our lives journaling and thinking of loving moments to embrace and expound upon the infinite expressions of our multiplicitous infinite domains of relations corresponding to that of love itself. Journaling, scrapbooking, keeping log and records with the intent and focus of love cultivates it.

We can make moments and memories with those around us, and even enjoy our own presence to create more moments of love itself.

We can make love by being loving. Spending time with others. Doing things with others. Being spontaneous, being silly, being safe, basking in the sun, or singing and dancing and embracing the inner child behind the societal masks we wear and burden our heart like fettered shackles.

When you see others feel comfortable to sleep in your presence, and you enjoy their company, that can be a form of cultivating love too. To provide that safety and space to grow their being as well. From hearing their snores to knowing that they’re safe, that’s a feeling equitable to love.

The idea and perversion of love into being a narrowly defined existence such as procreation or gift giving or romantic movies and novels is too limiting. Our definitions for our words shape our perception of the world when using these words. The idea of love is beyond my estimations for something we should even dare to limit, perhaps it’s analogous to God itself. For I am but an ignorant soul, writing my ponderous musings to a digital deep space where I hope an alien will find useful and in service of.

Epilogue,

I’ve recently felt my heart chakra unblock and I’m overwhelmed with emotions that make me feel like I’m not me, and for that I take my digital pen dipped in my drunken emotional fervor to write out an expressive essay of that which ails me. I’m not sure if I want these feelings to linger or to leave me be, yet I want to annotate for those that care to know that they too have the capacity for Love and to be loved.

Please, love yourself, start with yourself, cultivate it, make love a principle, a promise to yourself. Keep it.

If you find someone who loves you for you, then you can share that love in common. That love for you being you.

Perhaps even love them for being them, and to learn or convince them to love themselves too.

I digress, we can live in a much more loving world, and we can even learn to Love -well- love itself. Hopefully we can make the phrase ‘making love’ a more loving phrase again.

Enjoy this little nugget of a mantra as I fade back behind the Deep Digital space of the internet. Somewhere out there, know that I exist, and take care in knowing that you do too;

Infinitely Loving Love Infinitely