So, Why Are We In So Much Pain?
The saddest love story I know is the tarantula's. In the foothills of California, tarantulas come out ever fall. Hideous, hairy spiders swarm everywhere. On certain roads a driver can't help squishing them under his tires. Housewives, armed with brooms, beat them to death. Everyone reviles them. But, they still come out ever fall, swarming by the millions.
If that sounds more like a horror story than a love story, it's because you don't know much about tarantulas. They don't live up to their fierce image. Actually, the would rather hide under a bush than jump out and bite you. And their bite is not particularly poisonous. They are solitary, oversized, ungainly creatures, so heavy they can break a leg in a fall. They are friendly, make good pets and will even take to being walked on a leash. And, they are virtually blind.
So, how does a poor blind spider, living a solitary life under a pile of brush, find a mate? The answer, apparently, is that some autumn instinct sends him wandering across the countryside, bumping into everything in his path, risking terrified housewives and speeding cars until he bumps into a tarantula of the opposite sex. Without much vision, and without extraordinary powers of hearing or scent, he has to establish contact by touch.
So it is really only by accident that two tarantulas find each other. The fact that there are so many tarantulas, and that they try so desperately, keeps the tarantula race intact. But most tarantulas never find a suitable love at all; they go bumping across the landscape until the end of their forlorn days.
They are not so different from us. Perhaps the tarantula, rather than the cherub, should be the symbol of romantic love for us human beings. Most of us look desperately for love. We don't know how to look; our senses don't lead us very well, so we wander across our landscape hoping to bump into it. We take many risks and the losers are strewn everywhere. But, there is no time for pity. We keep rushing along, bumping into people and checking them out, hoping to find the right mate. Some of us succeed. But, a large proportion of us never find that true love we dream of. we make sad, or at best, dull love stories with our lives.
I believe that the concept of “soul mates” is primarily responsible for most of the depression, suicides, failed marriages, and broken homes in our current society. The thought that there is only one person out there, and if you lose that person you will never get it back, has caused more pain than it has caused joy.
In the play “Fiddler on the Roof” the Father, Tevya, had a beautiful scene with his wife. He asked her, “Goldie, do you love me?”
Her response was classic: “You’re a fool!”
He was persistent and at the end, she said, “After thirty six years, I’ve scrubbed his clothes, I’ve cooked him food, if that isn’t love, what is?”
Love is not the infatuation that occurs for the first three years of a relationship. Love is the binding tie that allows you to tolerate one-another until you are wrinkled and slow moving.
Once you have abandoned the thought that only one person in the world can possibly love a stuttering, pathetic, possibly psychopathic, blubbering drunk who calls people at midnight, like you, you can stop feeling all the heartache if one of your relationships doesn’t work.
Free from that pain, you can then range into the world looking forward to human contact, instead of dreading the thought of another rejection, which is usually the cause of all the problems at the beginning of a relationship, anyway.
Once you have stopped looking for “The One” you can enjoy the experience of meeting “People”. People are those creatures that are going about doing the same thing you are doing. They are also afraid of rejection. They have also been lied to and tricked into believing that only one person out there is going to love them forever, and that they have to hectically search to find that one person among the billions of beings coming and leaving their lives.
Enjoy the people you meet. If it develops into a romance, then that is good. If it ends, then that is good, because it was better for it to end then to keep going.
There are many more people to meet.
You will find someone eventually that enjoys just being with you as much as you enjoy being with them. Until then just enjoy being around as many people as possible. Be honest. Be patient. Don’t pretend. Don’t expect anything from them. They have enough expectations. But, most of all love people for who they are.
Make friends, not lovers. Becoming lovers will take care of itself. The most important thing is to become friends. The main reason for going out ought to be getting to know each other, therefore, your main activity shouldn't be making out, watching movies, eating expensive (or cheap) meals, but having fun.
Love wants to take over your life. It claims to be the only thing worthwhile. Don't give up on everything else, including outside friendships. Love, by itself, is too intense, too confusing and too ingrown. Make a concious effort to continue the rest of your life: other friends, other activities, time with family. Don't put them in competition with love or you'll end up splitting yourself in two and making yourself extremely miserable in the process.
If that sounds more like a horror story than a love story, it's because you don't know much about tarantulas. They don't live up to their fierce image. Actually, the would rather hide under a bush than jump out and bite you. And their bite is not particularly poisonous. They are solitary, oversized, ungainly creatures, so heavy they can break a leg in a fall. They are friendly, make good pets and will even take to being walked on a leash. And, they are virtually blind.
So, how does a poor blind spider, living a solitary life under a pile of brush, find a mate? The answer, apparently, is that some autumn instinct sends him wandering across the countryside, bumping into everything in his path, risking terrified housewives and speeding cars until he bumps into a tarantula of the opposite sex. Without much vision, and without extraordinary powers of hearing or scent, he has to establish contact by touch.
So it is really only by accident that two tarantulas find each other. The fact that there are so many tarantulas, and that they try so desperately, keeps the tarantula race intact. But most tarantulas never find a suitable love at all; they go bumping across the landscape until the end of their forlorn days.
They are not so different from us. Perhaps the tarantula, rather than the cherub, should be the symbol of romantic love for us human beings. Most of us look desperately for love. We don't know how to look; our senses don't lead us very well, so we wander across our landscape hoping to bump into it. We take many risks and the losers are strewn everywhere. But, there is no time for pity. We keep rushing along, bumping into people and checking them out, hoping to find the right mate. Some of us succeed. But, a large proportion of us never find that true love we dream of. we make sad, or at best, dull love stories with our lives.
I believe that the concept of “soul mates” is primarily responsible for most of the depression, suicides, failed marriages, and broken homes in our current society. The thought that there is only one person out there, and if you lose that person you will never get it back, has caused more pain than it has caused joy.
In the play “Fiddler on the Roof” the Father, Tevya, had a beautiful scene with his wife. He asked her, “Goldie, do you love me?”
Her response was classic: “You’re a fool!”
He was persistent and at the end, she said, “After thirty six years, I’ve scrubbed his clothes, I’ve cooked him food, if that isn’t love, what is?”
Love is not the infatuation that occurs for the first three years of a relationship. Love is the binding tie that allows you to tolerate one-another until you are wrinkled and slow moving.
Once you have abandoned the thought that only one person in the world can possibly love a stuttering, pathetic, possibly psychopathic, blubbering drunk who calls people at midnight, like you, you can stop feeling all the heartache if one of your relationships doesn’t work.
Free from that pain, you can then range into the world looking forward to human contact, instead of dreading the thought of another rejection, which is usually the cause of all the problems at the beginning of a relationship, anyway.
Once you have stopped looking for “The One” you can enjoy the experience of meeting “People”. People are those creatures that are going about doing the same thing you are doing. They are also afraid of rejection. They have also been lied to and tricked into believing that only one person out there is going to love them forever, and that they have to hectically search to find that one person among the billions of beings coming and leaving their lives.
Enjoy the people you meet. If it develops into a romance, then that is good. If it ends, then that is good, because it was better for it to end then to keep going.
There are many more people to meet.
You will find someone eventually that enjoys just being with you as much as you enjoy being with them. Until then just enjoy being around as many people as possible. Be honest. Be patient. Don’t pretend. Don’t expect anything from them. They have enough expectations. But, most of all love people for who they are.
Make friends, not lovers. Becoming lovers will take care of itself. The most important thing is to become friends. The main reason for going out ought to be getting to know each other, therefore, your main activity shouldn't be making out, watching movies, eating expensive (or cheap) meals, but having fun.
Love wants to take over your life. It claims to be the only thing worthwhile. Don't give up on everything else, including outside friendships. Love, by itself, is too intense, too confusing and too ingrown. Make a concious effort to continue the rest of your life: other friends, other activities, time with family. Don't put them in competition with love or you'll end up splitting yourself in two and making yourself extremely miserable in the process.