Good morning friends. Life is a thrilling drama. Typical of the spectacle—perhaps its greatest highlight—is that oldest of stories: Two young people, a man and a woman, meet. Both are in radiant health; they are beautiful, happy, and magnetic. They are instantly attracted to each other.
Certainly the attraction is deeper than physical. Each senses in the other a quality that satisfies a deep need. Yearning, they reach out as if to absorb a fulfillment long and ardently awaited.
Can their hopes ever be fulfilled? The attraction they feel is indefinable, elusive and evanescent. They long to draw from each other something very special. What is that something?
It is all a play of consciousness—ripples rising in expectation, cresting, then scattering in foam — thoughts and emotions that flicker in the sunlight on life’s sea; wavelets that long to merge their separate identities in a larger wave. Waves themselves, however, are ephemeral. Moods pass. The starlight and the dancing, that gentle, sweet touch, those brief glimpses of beautiful, far-off scenes filled with love and happiness: All these change, and soon disappear. Is it all a mirage?
Can God have so arranged human existence that it is based eternally on false hopes? The loving embrace, then its sequel: children, each with its own interests and self-created destiny…Has that ardent coming together had no other purpose than to perpetuate the species?
Sexual union brings fleeting pleasure at first, then exhilaration—followed by physical and emotional depletion, and, if over-indulged, by satiety and disgust. What is the purpose?
The expression: “falling in love,” is a curious one. The experience is indeed a fall from high expectations, a crash downward into brambles of disappointment, suffering, and maybe, compromise. Will it ever be possible to become fully absorbed in that sweet smile, that loving look, that radiance in the eyes? Never! Such is the tragedy of human love.
Love has, in fact, a reality far more spiritual than material. The physical body is only a container for its animating spirit, to which one’s feelings truly belong. The less spiritual the feelings, however, the less also they qualify as love at all.
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