”There is more wisdom in your body than in your deepest philosophy.” ~ Nietzsche
so when you tell me you are more head than physical, it scares me. i am resistant. it tells me that what you feel is not a wisdom you listen to rather you strategically hunt and create situations to which you probably already know the outcome.
you have to feel it before it is real. before you can experience it and before you can learn from it. thinking and saying doesn’t make something true or real, it only puts it out there. when you feel it in your bones, your blood, muscles and heart, that is when things happen.
“Your task is not to seek for love, but merely to seek and find all the barriers within yourself that you have built against it.”
When we let love in, we allow others to be themselves. When we allow others to be themselves, we, ourselves, are loving.
Let yourself be affected by the person standing in front of you. Quit thinking so much about what you’re going to say next, and see them clearly. Allow yourself to be fascinated, confused and open toeverything they have to teach you. It might hurt sometimes, but the risk is worth it when the return is the freedom to be fully alive.
Perhaps the most beautiful and poetic explanation of love ever offered to children, comes from the pen of Jeanette Winterson, as an answer to one of our most burning, timeless question:
How do you fall in love?
You don’t fall in love like you fall in a hole. You fall like falling through space. It’s like you jump off your own private planet to visit someone else’s planet. And when you get there it all looks different: the flowers, the animals, the colours people wear.
It is a big surprise falling in love because you thought you had everything just right on your own planet, and that was true, in a way, but then somebody signaled to you across space and the only way you could visit was to take a giant jump. Away you go, falling into someone else’s orbit and after a while you might decide to pull your two planets together and call it home.
And you can bring your dog. Or your cat. Your goldfish, hamster, collection of stones, all your odd socks. (The ones you lost, including the holes, are on the new planet you found.)
And you can bring your friends to visit. And read your favourite stories to each other. And the falling was really the big jump that you had to make to be with someone you don’t want to be without. That’s it.
P.S. You have to be brave.
“During times of universal deceit, telling the truth becomes a revolutionary act.”