Because Blogger's "Adult warning" often goes into a perpetual loop (isn't working properly), I will be making all new posts at my WordPress blog. You can follow it even if you do not have a WordPress Account. There're also my Twitter and my Tumblr blog, my Facebook and my Google+ page and my group.
(Update: Blogger hasn't fixed its problem with the "adult warning". Will go back to posting at my WordPress blog)

Friday, September 17, 2010

Cross Currents

I've talked about love and love and sex and how I dislike the cum-and-go culture. But I don't necessarily mean in love. I'd like you to read this chapter from the ongoing story Cross Currents, about a bloke Andy who falls in love with his best friend Matt.

It beautifully exemplifies what I'm talking about when I talk about love. I deeply mistrust in love. Being in love has always hurt me. But, equally, I value love of all kinds: between father and son; or father and daughter; between husband and wife; between friends; between siblings. Maybe in love is about selfishness, or perhaps about a mindless chemical/hormonal connection between two people. It's about yourself. Love, though, is about the other person. In this chapter, Andy the narrator makes love to his mate Brad. Brad is straight. Andy is mostly straight. But . . . . they make love. It's erotic, moving, romantic, powerful. And beautifully written. An impressive achievement.

I find it impossible to believe the Lord does not highly value the love described in this chapter. He gave us sex organs, so we might enjoy the pleasure they give us. He gave us hearts to love. He gave us minds and souls that we might think on these things. Love is a Divine gift. We are meant to love. Sexually as well as in all the other ways our subtle, clever, unwise species is capable of.


The CLOD and the PEBBLE

"Love seeketh not Itself to please,
"Nor for itself hath any care,
"But for another gives its ease,
"And builds a Heaven in Hell's despair."
So sang little Clod of Clay
Trodden with the cattle's feet
But a Pebble of the brook
Warbled out these metres meet:
"Love seeketh only Self to please,
"To bind another to Its delight,
"Joys in another's loss of ease,
"And builds a Hell in Heaven's despite."

William Blake (1757-1827)

We are only human; we fail; we have petty jealousies; we do stupid and foolish things. But if we remember to strive for a love which seeketh not itself to please, we have a chance of happiness. Supremely ironic. Thinking of yourself won't make you happy. Thinking of others just might.

1 comment:

Fit Studs said...

Those eyes are a killer!