Love
is one of the most basic, powerful, and admirable traits of our
species…though we cannot claim exclusivity on it, as anyone who has
ever had a dog or a cat can attest. Like so many things in life, love
has an infinite number of shadings and varieties and intensities, as
does its balance between the individuals involved.
The
love between parents and children is quite different than the love
between friends, and the love between friends is different than
romantic love between two people which includes but transcends the
others.
Love
feeds us and sustains us, and without it we wither and die. It is
essential for our survival and our emotional development, and we seem
able to store it up, like some animals store up body fat for use
during periods of deprivation. Science has shown that babies need to
be touched and held and fondled as much as they need physical
nourishment. Deprivation of love and attention warps the individual
forever. (I once saw a heartbreaking experiment conducted on baby
monkeys, in which they were denied any contact with their mothers or
other living creatures,, and it horrified and devastated me, as the
very memory of it does to this day. Such experiments may further
science, but their effect on the individual monkeys is
unconscionable.)
As
we grow older, our sources of love grow fewer. Our parents die as do,
over the years, our partners and our friends, until we find ourselves
like newborns once again, desperately needing love and attention and
touch, but receiving less and less of it.
I
am comfortable in my life. I am blessed with supportive, caring
friends who provide emotional nourishment the human soul requires,
and I try to reciprocate it, though I am far less adept at it than
they. I still have some family left, and they remain my anchors to
the past. I am fortunate, too, to have friends I’ve never met but
who know and seem to appreciate me through my writing.
But
what I do not have, and miss with a true sense of longing, is
romantic love—a partner with whom to share my life. I used to joke
that the one thing that separates friends from lovers is sex, and at
the risk of eliciting a scrinched-face “eeeeee-eeewwww!!”
from those under 40, I can assure you that for the majority of
humans, sex remains a strong factor even after one’s own sexual
appeal is totally lost on others.
For
the most part, people tend to be pretty selfish when it comes to any
form of love. They want it, need it, and even expect it as their due,
though they are…like me…somewhat loath to express it as
frequently as they should.
I
have never met or even heard of a single person who, claiming with or
without justification that they are unloved, ever claims they are
happy. It is a tragic fact that far, far too many people in our
increasingly self-isolated world are deprived of love, of affection,
of kindness, of the even casual genuine touch on the arm from someone
who cares about them.
In
our increasingly predatory society, unfortunately, even the most
innocent and casual physical contact with anyone other than one’s
own immediate family is discouraged, and we are rapidly becoming a
nation of paranoids. That teachers are forbidden to hug a troubled
student for fear of official reprimand or dismissal is a sign of just
how far down the path of dehumanization we have traveled. That a
kind, well-intentioned stranger cannot reach out and casually touch a
child without being suspected of being a child molester is
disgusting.
As
elemental as it sounds, the fact remains: the best way to get
positive attention is to give it without really expecting it to be
returned; the best way to make a friend is to be a friend. The best
way to be loved is to show love. Sounds elemental, doesn't it? Then
why isn't there more of it?
Dorien's blogs are posted by 10 a.m. Central time every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday. Please take a moment to visit his website (http://www.doriengrey.com) and, if you enjoy these blogs, you might want to check out Short Circuits: a Life in Blogs (http://bit.ly/m8CSO1).
1 comment:
Valid questions.
One of the failings of youth is wanting love so bad that someone will take almost anyone available...only to discover the match is a poor one. By the time they get done trying to find another and another and another, they're either jaded or just in it for the short fix.
The true partner (except in rare cases) seems to come later with maturity. Even then, not every relationship is perfect, yet we apply a high degree of pressure thinking it should be.
Sometimes, though, that imperfection is what created the roots of love in the first place. I guess it'll still remain a mystery to us.
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