Wednesday, April 7, 2010

Not sure what to call this one

While I have no doubt that Tiger Woods was fffs (@#$%!!* for @#$96!!*'s sake), and while there seem to be other numerous ramblings regarding infidelities amongst the glitterati, I seem to have found myself mired in the pool of mud we generally accept as 'normal' human relationships. In evolutionary terms, it seems to me that we humans are nowhere near as evolved as either the wolf, or the cardinal (the bird, not the catholic), and therefore, it seems specious at best to assume that we are genetically programmed for monogamy. After all, we share 99.something% of our DNA with the bonobo (and with the ring-tailed lemur...not sure I get this one)...

So, once again, I find myself ready to blog on the subject of Love. The nun often prods me with fascinating questions, and while I don't actually believe that I am polyamorous, I also don't believe most polyamorists are either, which, of course, led me straight to Buddha and yoga. I do believe I have finally figured out what grates me so about practicioners.

It strikes me that the basic aim of buddhists and yogis is the transcendence of life, and immersion in non-duality, and attainment of oneness with the universe. And it further occurred to me that unless one is proselytizing strictly for economic gain (which seems the motivation for most modern day evolutionaries), there is a dichotomy here which merits examination. For the modern day adherent, it seems that in order to truly look inward, and transcend the ego, one must step outside himself and pay gobs of money, so that someone else can tell him how to find his true self. Now, I'm no ascetic monk or anything, but it seems to me that we all do this anyway without really trying. I mean, I look at things that make me happy, and things that make me sad, and things that fuck me up almost everyday. And I think I do this not intellectually, but rather viscerally, regularly examining the big three... head, heart and gut.

So, enough of the non sequitor, and back to the nun. She has frequently made me ponder the quality of love that we generally accept as 'normal'. I mean I've read the bible, and Carl Jung, and even Fritz Perls...I've barely paid attention to Dr.Phil and Oprah...I've watched movies, read a huge number of novels, attended the theater, and listened to great, and not so great, music...and not once have I been informed that there are different kinds of love. As the nun says,"Love just is". Yet, we, as a species, have somehow decided that we should love our friends differently than we love our children, and that the ultimate goal is to find the one... your fucking soulmate... who you will, in practice, love differently than everyone else. OK, so maybe I am the queer duck in the pond here, but the notion of differentiating love just feels like pure hogwash. And tell me, how in the world do you stop loving someone? Did I miss the on/off switch while wandering through the darkness?

Sorry, folks, but there are no rules for loving. So, from this day forward, I am just going to start from that place. I'm going to love the guy who slices my pepperoni at the supermarket, the mechanic who fixes my car, the teenage girl collecting money for the homeless...fuck it...I'm going to love the terrorist, the rapist, the burglar, the soldier, the murderer...and yes, I'm going to love my son and daughters, both my wives and the nun.You see, you either are or you aren't. You can't get there forcing your ankles to you hipbones, om-ing, dancing in a psychotic frenzy, or fucking pathologically, popping psychedelics, or worshiping the burning man. All those things are external pretending. You either are a lover, or your not. If you want to be a lover, you only need the faith to do it. You were born to it. It won't come from Jesus, or Yahweh, or Buddha, or Ram Dass. It has to come from you. And for those of you who seek to compartmentalize it, or practice it, or breathe it, or chant the man said, "Pity the fool".