I wrote this a year or so ago and just found it, so i’ve added it to my long-forgotten blog.
This morning I watched a video about a woman who became a porn star at 47. It was so touching. After an outwardly successful but unhappy marriage and divorce, she had been suffering from severe depression, to the point she was planning to end her life. But before she did this, she wanted to experience sex and real intimacy, just once, before she died. She hired an escort for an overnight stay, and planned a dream date, including a meal and a night at the theatre followed by sex – after which she planned to go home and commit suicide. In the video she relates that while the sex was good, the moment that changed everything was at the theatre. Halfway through the play, unprompted, her companion reached over and took her hand. Her heart raced; instead of wanting to die, she began to fall back in love with the world.
At the moment I feel a growing intimacy with all things, with all life around me. If I pay attention I can sense the vivid, joyful feeling of the world loving being alive. I feel my own heart tremble in resonance. I too am falling back in love. It’s not that I didn’t love the word before, but this is deeper and more intimate. This is Love. I think the world might be The One. There is no going back from here – i am smitten.
I can’t help but feel romantic about this new relationship with – well, with everything. Romance like I want to write poetry, and bring the world flowers. Romance like I want to hold it in my arms. Like I want to tenderly hold its hand in mine.
I feel intoxicated by its beauty sometimes. There are little heart-signs in my eyes like i’m blinded to reality by love. Maybe what it does instead is reveal the truth – that there is only love. I want to forgive the world it’s failings and weaknesses, instead experiencing these as endearing signs of humanity, of imperfect samsara. I can feel such heartache for its suffering and self-harm, but try to have the courage to stay by its side, sharing the hurt to keep it company, trying to stay open and not turn away, even in the face of pain I can’t save it from. It’s so hard to do this, to stay this close to the world and allow it to be as it is. It’s so hard to accept I can’t change the world by force, or even at all – I can only love it and encourage it to do the same.
The world is so big; there’s so much to love. I can only see a part at a time. Usually my heart throbs the hardest while looking at the sky, but more recently, I’ve been being seduced by trees. I’m delighted by the smallest creatures and the most absurd moments.
In this love story, I’m beginning to understand that ‘cultivating metta’ isn’t about this duty to love the people in your life like spiritual social work, but the beginning of a love story – the greatest ever told. For so long I’ve felt it’s about trying to dutifully change my negative feelings into positive ones, to mechanically crank metta out like a factory – this so often has left me feeling depleted and unsuccessful. Metta doesn’t come from me – I’m too small to hold feelings this big. I just have to learn to open myself up and allow it to flow through me like a river.
queerdharmafaring 