Valentine’s day is upon us. And like most people in the inner city of singledom I too long to reach the city’s borders. Set sail to the glowing red city in the horizon where everything comes in twos and love is the language that keeps the city alive.
I’ve enjoyed being single for a good portion of my life. The reasons I’ve enjoyed it are plenty: my time is my time; an absence of vague relationship demands; my space is my space., etc. However, of late, I have been noticing a peculiar longing from within. One that leads my eyes to line the curves of clothed men in hope of getting a glimpse of what lies beneath. But it doesn’t end there. My body goes on to respond in ways ranging from feeling faint to feeling surged with excitement when my eyes comes across man specimen that curve perfect in the right places. So my relationship-related-consensus at the moment has been revolving around one idea. The idea that I need a man.
This is new. The younger version of me treated such inclination different. A bulb of lotion and an attached hand did the trick. But the current version of me wants things different. After months of staying away from “inappropriate” use of lotion. I am seeing new parts of me that seem foreign, ones that seem to point to the idea of needing a man.
One theme that kept me within a cocoon of emotional/sexual self-sufficiency was the denial of fantasies surrounding the idea of an enriching romantic life. There seemed to be little need to crowd my head with images that lack practical possibilities. Put another way, I felt hopeless about getting a boyfriend>partner>husband capable of inducing and educing love in satisfactory ways. However, upon pondering my life’s trajectory, I wondered what such hopelessness would mean to the outcome of my coming days, months and years.
I can point a hand to the outer world, say it is the reason for my hopelessness. But to do this is folly. I’ve played a part in entertaining the hopelessness. I point to my reliance on knowledge as the culprit.
Let’s call knowledge a database of information – from external sources – we carry in our heads at any given time, accumulated from moment of birth to present moment. It’s much like the bits of data in a computer storage disk, it holds what it is given.
Lots of the bits of information in my database do a poor job in giving support to the possibilities of a satisfactory romantic relationship – it can be difficult to entertain pleasure when a part of your head points to the sinful nature of your ways. So I want to begin the use of something else.
Einstein, arguably the most famous scientist and a quintessential representation of genius, is known to have said: “imagination is better than knowledge”. Perhaps a defiance to all the limitations brought upon by knowledge (that come from other people). He is also known for saying “there is a portion in my head where anything is possible, I like to spend time there”.
I propose these ideas as tools to use to remedy teachings that highlight that certain things are to be refrained from. This might seem obvious to some. However, in my experience, I have seen that the things I know seem to put up a fight to things I imagine; some things are possible while other things lack practical possibilities. The proffered ideas suggest using the notion of possibility to counter notions of im
practical-possibilities, even though just in your head.
It’s funny how laid down rules dictates the runnings of the mind. What is funnier, I think, is how deeply we entertain the rules. It’s like we played a part in their creation and hold on to them so as not to lose parts of ourselves. When it comes to something as important as love it may be helpful to consider re-creation, to modify ideas in our heads. So that moving forward, growing and thriving can come with an ease.
Love, after all, should easy. If any unease is to arise, none of it need come from you.
You are Awesome