XORROX

I have been confronted with the question of love four times in the last 12 hours, by four different people. In one, we spoke of a love taken for granted, and now realizes, desired. In another, we spoke of a love recognized, but not complete. In another, a love that may never be equaled again, but how despite the "love" how another might be a better companion through life. And the last, about the ability to identify that you love someone.

I came to realize that the four ideals which I ascribe as the bohemian ideals (yes, a movie reference but one which I hold in reality) are not so easily defined. They have so many levels and can be so abstract, defined individually by each of our own realities and experiences.

Two of these ideals I have come to find comfort in. Beauty and Freedom are things I feel I have achieved for myself in that I have found peace in my interpretation and identification with them. Truth is one I will always seek, and in the knowledge that I will always seek it, I feel I have succeed. It is in the last that I find turmoil.

Unlike Truth, the seeking of love from no until my end seems tragic. The pursuit of truth is one through which I will grow, but the growth is one in which I find transparency. The greater understanding of "the more I know, the more I know I know nothing" is rewarding; finding myself lost in universe within which I am a sponge and able to take in greater depths of things because of my understandings that allow me to better interpret new experiences reinforces the freedom that I feel.

In my quest for "Truth" I am free, knowing that I am confined to nothing but the laws of a world that can do little to stop me, and that cares little to stop me so long as I am not abusing it. I am free because as much as I want to live I do not fear death, knowing that I am dead if I live in fear, and feel alive living intensely through the conviction that I am free; a free spirit, a free mind, a free body, a free soul.

And in that I seek Truth and have, to me, an unlimited Freedom to live, I see Beauty everywhere. I am constantly confronted with images of the mundane, and in that regular see so much beauty. The gecko sitting on the rock; the feathering of clouds on a clear blue sky; the lightening in the distance with no sound, bringing the night's sky to a glow; the pouring rain in buckets on a tin roof at night…every moment and every breath is so beautiful; everyone, myself included, have so much potential for beauty in the realization that it is everywhere and everything.

But Love…I am tormented by it. My Freedom is held back by it; Truth often distorted to create a reality whereby "Love" wins; Beauty held as a pressing weight on my chest, similar to the choking one feels when holding back tears, because I wish more than anything to share the beauty I experience with a love.

Should I seek freedom from love? Should I seek love, or seek it differently? Should I start by defining it? I think the latter is futile, as there are so many forms, or maybe it is that regardless of "Love" I can succeed in the desires which I wish to fulfill through love, but do so without it.

And here begins another journey...