Choosing to Love

When we see love as the will to nurture one's own or another's spiritual growth, revealed through acts of care, respect, knowing, and assuming responsibility, the foundation of all love in our life is the same.
~bell hooks, All About Love



So I've been loving someone for the past month and no one ever told me how time consuming this was. I used to think lolling around doing nothing with anyone - no matter how fascinating a person - would be tiresome. It's not. These days I sing little ditties I've made up, right into his smiling face. I bounce in my seat. I rock from side to side in contentment. Strange things bring me pleasure for no apparent reason. The other day the fellow and I were talking about religion, and I mused, "I think I'm a spiritual humanist." His plainspoken response was, "Well, I'm a secular humanist." At this, I actually felt happy!

I was the first one to say "I love you," which I'd never said to any man not related to me by blood or marriage. He said, "It makes me very happy to hear you say this," but was not ready to say the words back. That was okay with me. I did not have any anxieties or fears about it. I understood that for him, Love might be a state of being, but for me, loving him was an act I was committing. Later, I read in bell hooks' book, All About Love, that "to love somebody is not just a strong feeling - it is a decision, it is a judgment, it is a promise," and that "love is an act of will - namely, both an intention and action."*

There was a young man before this one who I'd abruptly and without warning "fallen in love" with. I never said anything to him about it, and he never said anything to me about it. I had no courage. After much thought on the matter I came to this conclusion: if I lacked the will to speak to him about my feelings, then I had no business trying to be in love with him; I was not ready. Almost immediately upon this realization, I felt elated and free. No more heartache and wringing of the hands. I was content with our friendship status. One week later, my mother introduced me to the fellow I'm seeing now, and after two months with him I decided: I am going to love him.

Due to all this thinking about love, I've been paying closer attention to other relationships in which I claim to love. Am I really loving this friend or that relative? What in my behavior demonstrates that love?

Recently a very good friend of mine has been having a difficult time. I called her because she seemed down last time I'd seen her. During our conversation it came to light that she'd been pulling away from some of her friends because she sensed that we were judging her. I remembered that a counselor had once told me that the way we related to our siblings as children was the training ground for how we related to our peers. I know that my friend's family is very critical of her, always telling her she needs to do this or that thing to be better, more successful, etc. And I, being the oldest "responsible" child, am prone to giving advice. It finally dawned on me that my friend just needed me to listen to her, and not tell her all the things she should do differently. I relayed this to her, and she confirmed my understanding. I apologized and resolved in my heart to view her "complaints" about her problems differently. I started to tear up. I had not been as good a friend as I could have been; I had said things that had damaged our relationship - even if she wasn't aware of it - because I'd gotten caught up in playing roles. The role of the know-it-all, or the disapproving sister, or whatever. Although I had claimed to love her, there were definitely some points at which I had stopped relating to her as who she was and who I was, and had been inauthentic, acting out of my own insecurities and pride. There were times in which I had not wanted the best for her, but had let annoyance and aggravation cause me to be haughty. I cried because I had temporarily stopped loving my friend and had gradually begun to place myself in the position of tolerating her, a horrible and horrendous thing. I went to bed that night thankful that I hadn't lost her friendship, or her love.

There is an acquaintance I've been thinking about a lot lately. I did not like her at first. Actually, I had nothing against her, but some chitter chatter among friends of mine, and some obnoxious behavior on her part, quickly caused me to have some disdain for her. I disliked that she was always tooting her own horn, and that her life was so "messy." Having always walked the straight and narrow, I had little tolerance for a woman who "created" problems for herself (as I saw it). Having made up my mind not to like her, I dismissed any positive statements about her from mutual friends. But one day, several weeks ago, I was reading something she had written, and finally broke down - I had to give the woman props for being pretty damned phenomenal. I had also, unknowingly, grown fond of her; it was actually taking effort to dislike her. I have a great deal of respect for her now. I'm ashamed of my own petty feelings about her; hopefully she'll never know.

It occurs to me that both of these women are part of my religious community, and if I cannot even love other UUs with my whole heart, then what hope can I have for loving the rest of the world? There are only a few hundred thousand UUs in the world; it is a good place to start!

What I'm finding is that I have set up barriers between myself and other people without even realizing it. Placed myself in a relationship of opposition. Waged unconscious wars in my heart against them. The challenge is to recognize when I am doing it. It is a tendency in myself that I must be vigilant of. Even though I am a mild mannered person not prone to violence or even harsh words, it is still there. I must remember that. In her chapter on Values, bell hooks writes, that "when we choose to love we choose to move against fear - against alienation and separation .... To live our lives based on the principles of the love ethic, we have to be courageous."




*hooks quotes Fromm and Peck.

(Photo by HSA: The doorways at the ruins of the convent Las Capuchinas, where I chose to believe in the spirit. Antigua, Guatemala. 2005).