(no subject)

[kuangning]

Then said Almitra, "Speak to us of Love."

And he raised his head and looked upon the people, and there fell a stillness upon them. And with a great voice he said:

When love beckons to you follow him,
Though his ways are hard and steep.
And when his wings enfold you yield to him,
Though the sword hidden among his pinions may wound you.
And when he speaks to you believe in him,
Though his voice may shatter your dreams as the north wind lays waste the garden.
For even as love crowns you so shall he crucify you. Even as he is for your growth so is he for your pruning.
Even as he ascends to your height and caresses your tenderest branches that quiver in the sun,
So shall he descend to your roots and shake them in their clinging to the earth.
Like sheaves of corn he gathers you unto himself.
He threshes you to make you naked.
He sifts you to free you from your husks.
He grinds you to whiteness.
He kneads you until you are pliant;
And then he assigns you to his sacred fire, that you may become sacred bread for God's sacred feast.
All these things shall love do unto you that you may know the secrets of your heart, and in that knowledge become a fragment of Life's heart.
But if in your fear you would seek only love's peace and love's pleasure,
Then it is better for you that you cover your nakedness and pass out of love's threshing-floor,
Into the seasonless world where you shall laugh, but not all of your laughter, and weep, but not all of your tears.
Love gives naught but itself and takes naught but from itself.
Love possesses not nor would it be possessed;
For love is sufficient unto love.
When you love you should not say, "God is in my heart," but rather, I am in the heart of God."
And think not you can direct the course of love, for love, if it finds you worthy, directs your course.
Love has no other desire but to fulfil itself.
But if you love and must needs have desires, let these be your desires:
To melt and be like a running brook that sings its melody to the night.
To know the pain of too much tenderness.
To be wounded by your own understanding of love;
And to bleed willingly and joyfully.
To wake at dawn with a winged heart and give thanks for another day of loving;
To rest at the noon hour and meditate love's ecstasy;
To return home at eventide with gratitude;
And then to sleep with a prayer for the beloved in your heart and a song of praise upon your lips.

- "The Prophet", Kahlil Gibran.



I say sometimes that all my biggest lessons have been taught by people who loved me. Sometimes it seems that someone who has the access to my heart to teach me lessons I'm afraid of learning also has access to my body almost by default. Not all of them have chosen to be my lover. All of them have been loved. Most of them have passed out of my life after teaching me... and of those, only one ever left anger behind him. I don't know whether they'd all be proud of what I am and who I am right now - I wouldn't ask them if I could. But I don't know where I'd be without them, either, and sometimes I think I need to remember that I have learned.

Trust comes hard for me. But I've learned to acknowledge that I love someone. I've learned to trust enough to say that I love someone. It used to be that I would love someone for years, and they never would know, because I wouldn't have dreamed of saying anything or letting myself change the way I treated them.

When I learned to acknowledge that I loved someone, I still hadn't learned that just because I loved someone, it didn't follow that they loved me back. I learned through someone who loved me but wasn't in love with me, that I can deal with the times when love isn't a two-way street, and that I'm strong enough not to misbehave out of disappointment.

I learned to give my body long before I learned to give my heart, and they were separate things for me. I despised my body for a long time, not as in "I'm fat" or "I'm ugly" necessarily, but as in "it's only my body, it doesn't matter." Someone who never was my lover taught me that since the only tangible way I have of giving my heart is giving my body, perhaps I should not discount and degrade the gift by giving it thoughtlessly. And I learned the difference between having sex and making love.

Trust... is still a stumbling block for me. But I've learned to want to trust. And when I don't speak, it's out of fear, not because I don't want to give myself and my thoughts over to someone I am learning to trust. I've learned faith, in a lot of ways, and with that, the ability to walk away and not break - the end of one relationship isn't the end of every relationship with that person, even. I've learned that it's possible to step back without running away.

I've been disappointed in and frustrated with myself just lately. Sometimes I wonder if I make any difference to anyone at all, why I bother to try, what point there is to anything. Being understood is important to me, and sometimes it seems as if no-one really hears or wants to, as if all these words are just so much noise. But if nothing else, putting them here helps me understand - and maybe there'll come a point where I can say that I've learned that it isn't really important whether anyone else understands.

Your hearts know in silence the secrets of the days and the nights.
But your ears thirst for the sound of your heart's knowledge.
You would know in words that which you have always known in thought.
You would touch with your fingers the naked body of your dreams.
And it is well you should.

Comments

[wiredferret.livejournal.com]

I don't know if I understand you. That would require an all-knowing character to sit outside both of us and judge. What you say sometimes resonates with me in ways that I do not expect. That's why I miss you when you're gone -- I feel like there could be harmonics here and there that are absent.

[kuangning]

That's an interesting thought. I think I was about twelve when I first read about the concept of syzygy... and it seemed to sum up everything I had ever wanted. Complete understanding, complete and total knowing. Not sameness, but oneness. In a lot of ways, I suppose, I'm still searching for that, even though it's impossible. So maybe I'm just being unfair, and unsatisfied with what may quite well be all I have a right to expect.

[envoy.livejournal.com]

So maybe I'm just being unfair, and unsatisfied with what may quite well be all I have a right to expect.

How exquisitely, beautifully human you are.

[kuangning]

Thank you. That's a beautiful thought.