Everyone on the planet, in this third dimension, is learning, or not learning about love. If we explore the concept, love might be described as an emotion, a good one that we all want. An emotion that makes us feel warm, accepted, in union with another. When we are loved we feel welcome, akin to something that is known.
If we try to pinpoint where love lives, as I have done in previous articles, a reasonable analysis might conclude that love lives in between. Between people. Between self and object. Between the memory and the moment. Between phantasy and the reality. True, non-possessive love – something beyond conditions or lust – exists as a pure enjoyment of another, a fondness or affection that can flow freely, whether they know it or not.
Often, we can see what or who someone loves, by simply observing where they spend their time, energy – or money, although that too can be motivated by other aims. Love isn’t just a word or a feeling, it’s something we express. As I describe it, “love is not a noun, it’s a verb”.
Most of us look for love in the things people do for us. But I’ve come to a deeper understanding: love is also in what someone chooses not to do. Love does not compete. Love does not make someone else responsible for our own wounds or areas for growth. Love does not secretly keep a cunning plan while appearing to behave on the surface. Love does not make a huge fuss. Love does not say cruel words. Love does not scowl. Love does not ruin someone else’s day. Love does not ignore or mock. Love does not inflict. Love does not run up a debt and expect someone else to pay for it. Love does not hit or hurt another. Love does not pass on harmful gossip or stir up family squabbles. Love does not leave someone suffering in the cold. Love does not cause scars. Love does not stress the other person out.
In psychological observation, we might look for love in the small things that are there. But in love analysis, I now look for what is not there. No tension. No noise. No drama. No sharp tones of voice. No toys out of the pram. When I see someone sacrificing what they really would like to do, in favour of making someone else happy – that’s when I see love in action. Real love is more than an emotion. It’s an integrity. It lives in the quiet acts, the self-restraint, the things we don’t say or do. To me, the deepest love exists in the silent sacrifices, where the other person may never know. Because love doesn’t only exist in the small things we do to another. It exists in the things we do not.
All loving things,
Carole Sawo