xander,
And one would hope sweet memories, but memories are a construct in the present. each time one has memories, one has new emotion of an old emotion. They are not one and the same. In this one does not lose the memory, who would want that? But one may choose to let the emotion go.
Let me try to draw this image.
Clinging - desperate and forceful, palm wrapped around.
Holding - calm, relaxed, palm open, as with a butterfly.
You can hold a butterfly, but if yoy try to cling to it then you will probably kill it. If you move from clinging to holding that can be a form of letting go. That is good letting go. Is that what you mean, or do you mean smothing else?
Hi xander,
Yes, a very good metaphor. I might not emphasize the desperate and forceful part… how about substituting compelling or obsessive? But this over all is precisely what I’m getting at.
Our memories never leave us, and all that we have learned both good and bad are still with us, and yes, there will always be some emotion attached to these experiences,but if we open our hand and let go, no matter how badly we wish to hold on, then the pain goes away, and our lives are focussed on the now instead of then.
Don’t ever let go of the experience. It is part of you forever, but don’t let the old emotions burn holes in your heart.
Yeah, the way of the open palm is a very good way. It manages to avoid clinging and it also avoids pushing away. It is deliberate having-ness without neediness. If the butterfly is with you, then you are also with it. If it flys away then you let it go and don’t try to hold it back. Yet you are ready should it come again.
The open palm is ready to receive and ready to let go.
So, open palm is half way between flat palm and fist. I’m on the flat palm side.
When it hurts, let it go. Love shouldn’t hurt - at least not the kind I want.
Love that doesn’t hurt is like a unicorn; beautiful and inspiring, but impossible to find.
The more you love someone the more you want to kill them.
gecota,
Sort of like that, yes. Not quite the words I would have used, but I think I get your gist. The person whom you love the most will evoke all of your passions. Or as Spinoza pointed out, the person who you love the most will also hurt you the most.
It’s not that they hurt you the most, it’s that they help you to grow. Growing pains are the most painful especially because they are not physical and often we dwell on the pain, stagnating and rendering our love useless. The pain is there to make you grow. If an arrow is shot into your body, it cannot be pulled out, it has to be pushed through even though it is more painful to do so, that is the only way to get the arrow out. To heal. Cupid’s arrow.
Love
When love beckons to you, follow him,
Though his ways are hard and steep.
And when his wings enfold you yield to him,
Though the sword hidden among his pinions may wound you.
And when he speaks to you believe in him,
Though his voice may shatter your dreams as the north wind lays waste the garden.
For even as love crowns you so shall he crucify you. Even as he is for your growth so is he for your pruning.
Even as he ascends to your height and caresses your tenderest branches that quiver in the sun,
So shall he descend to your roots and shake them in their clinging to the earth.
Like sheaves of corn he gathers you unto himself.
He threshes you to make you naked.
He sifts you to free you from your husks.
He grinds you to whiteness.
He kneads you until you are pliant;
And then he assigns you to his sacred fire, that you may become sacred bread for God’s sacred feast.
All these things shall love do unto you that you may know the secrets of your heart, and in that knowledge become a fragment of Life’s heart.
But if in your fear you would seek only love’s peace and love’s pleasure,
Then it is better for you that you cover your nakedness and pass out of love’s threshing-floor,
Into the seasonless world where you shall laugh, but not all of your laughter, and weep, but not all of your tears.
Love gives naught but itself and takes naught but from itself.
Love possesses not nor would it be possessed;
For love is sufficient unto love.
When you love you should not say, “God is in my heart,” but rather, “I am in the heart of God.”
And think not you can direct the course of love, for love, if it finds you worthy, directs your course.
Love has no other desire but to fulfill itself.
But if you love and must needs have desires, let these be your desires:
To melt and be like a running brook that sings its melody to the night.
To know the pain of too much tenderness.
To be wounded by your own understanding of love;
And to bleed willingly and joyfully.
To wake at dawn with a winged heart and give thanks for another day of loving;
To rest at the noon hour and meditate love’s ecstasy;
To return home at eventide with gratitude;
And then to sleep with a prayer for the beloved in your heart and a song of praise upon your lips.
A