Love Humbles.


To really love and be loved by someone we have to lay down our guard, trusting them not to stomp all over our fragile inner being (and they sometimes do). Most of all we have to lay aside our pride, love is always humbling, or it isn’t love.

Gayle Erwin (one of my favourite pastor/ comedians) coins the term “falling in lust” to describe the initial attraction a man and woman may feel for each other. Sadly this type of relationship is often portrayed as love in movies etc. but while physical attraction and sex generally forms a large part of romantic relationships, there has to be more, much more, or it will explode in glorious colour but then fizzle like a firework, leaving you with ashes.

Sometimes we want to be loved for our attributes, our looks, our strength, our intelligence, but real love cannot be founded on any of these (even being a kind/good person). We all mess up sometimes and one of the most important things we can learn in life is to come to terms with our own fallibility. Love founded on looks will die with age; an accident can take away strength and sickness our intelligence. I love the movie “The Ugly Truth”. I’m not sure why, perhaps I identify with the romantically inept female lead. Most of all, I love the end where he says he’s in love with her and baffled she asks why. He replies something to the effect of, “Hell, I don’t know why. I just am!” That’s how love is, it doesn’t love “because” it just loves, unconditionally, no matter what, warts and all. To receive this kind of love is humbling, it is undeserved.

I think this generation have it far harder than mine. The promotion of a cool image, of pride and independence makes it much harder to dare to expose your vulnerability, the inner you. However it’s impossible to form a love bond of any sort unless both parties drop the social masks and reveal their inner selves, and that’s humbling, more than that, it’s terrifying for some. Yet to be without these bonds of love whether romantic, parental, sibling, or friendship, is to live a life lacking the vibrant colour love brings.


In search of love.


Perhaps it was a fairytale,
This thing which they called love.
This thing that though intangible,
Was heralded above
The normal humdrum sphere of life.
A dream upon the wing,
Romantic, heady, streaming
Filling emptiness within.
She sought it much with eager heart
And quickly running feet,
Yet fingers seemed to grasp at mist
Its substance failed to meet
Until at last she lingered
And in a twilight’s song
A voice came softly singing
What she’d evaded all along.
She noticed other voices
Soft pleading like her own,
They had no loved one with them
They suffered all alone.
And tending to their plight
She quickly came enmeshed
In a love that was so blessed.
She’d found the very best.

Old Love.


old love

I reach to touch your cheek. It is withered like mine, for it has travelled many journeys, walked beneath many suns, loved beneath many moons. It has no more the outer blossom it once had, but “outer blossom” no longer concerns me. I know within lies a fountain of youth. I glimpse it in your gaze. I want to bathe in those eyes, to let the love I find there wash away the hurts, the compromises of this world. I’m drawn deep within. I feel you enter into me. Not as in youth a mere uniting of bodies. We need not undress, for we see each other’s naked beauty through the eyes. Though fingers trace remembered patterns it is in the spirit we touch, embrace, the physical a mere extension of what flows between us.

No longer the “young stud” your hands elicit joy from me as the virtuoso upon a beloved  old violin. You draw music from my soul with your touch. I do not see the flesh that sags, the wriggles at the brow. My eyes are drawn by something deep within. Like matured wine I taste you, no longer in rapid gulps but in small sips, savouring the flavour. We are one, tasting exquisite pleasure through eye, and touch and soul. With you the flower of youth blossoms once more. For we do not love as others but together enter in to another world. We close the door behind us as we lay aside our aging bodies and, cleansed by love, become young, unwrapping that secret kernel that lays beneath.