love as recognition

بِسْمِ اللهِ الرَّحْمٰنِ الرَّحِيْمِ

I came across a definition of falling in love that feels true. To love someone or something is to perceive the divinity in it; to witness the signature of the Creator in its composition. Those who appear to me to be most alive seem to wear this genre of love like a fragrance. It clings close to them but also has an aura that hovers around their body and those in their proximity. They have a way of recognising beauty in the mundane and discerning lack thereof in the seemingly pleasant, not as a creative exercise or flexing of taste, but as a matter of fact. It's as if they see life through a keener lens.

If you've ever experienced a baby staring deeply into your eyes, you've probably suspected them of an unspoken clairvoyance reminiscent of this. There's an intensity in their gaze that feels like you're being read from the inside out. Multiple times a day I find myself wondering what my 10 month old son sees when he sees. Why does a particular object bring him to ecstatic joy? Is there something particular about a person that he's just met that lets him rest his guard and read safety in their presence, yet cry with terror at the face of another?

seeking balance

In writing, I can suspend the subject of focus in a position of respect beyond what a shallow glance permits a passing stranger, or landscape, or event - allowing the possibility to be moved by it. I think this applies to the self as much as it does any external entity; providing a dignified veil for what otherwise might feel like narcissistic navel gazing.

In a way, the broader picture of becoming human is a desire to cultivate a less blunted form of myself; to know the feeling of continuously falling in love with the reality around me and embodying it as effortlessly as my bright-eyed baby. So whilst the online ‘manosphere’ appears to be leaning heavily towards the idealised image of the impermeable stoic, as someone who quite naturally inhabits that spirit, for me, equilibrium is better served gravitating towards the opposite.

Luckily, I don't have to look far for an example of this. My wife is someone who can soak up the full range of human emotion at her disposal. Even when it baffles me to no end, it’s one of her traits that I admire most because it's exposed me to what fullness in expression looks like - to feel deeply and wear it on display. Whereas a former version of myself may have seen this as a weakness - and I'm sure there's part of me that is way more forgiving of this from a woman, not to mention one I love - it’s something that I’m beginning to value and trust for guidance. Connected to such emotional receptivity is a deep intelligence; intuitive, sensitive and vibrant, which I have no doubt I would hugely benefit from in seeking balance.

mirrors

Easier said than done, but even more so, better actualised in writing than in daily living where attention is either too scattered, or too narrowly oriented to capture in real time. Despite this, I approached the page this week with apprehension. After 3 months of weekly reflections, the question of why I share these thoughts crept up, not for the first time, but met with the fatigue of competing demands, doubt occupies more space than it is due.

To call it a labour of love would be undeservedly charitable because it would suggest an indifference to receiving which I do not in honesty possess. I do want something in return. Probably too much.

Months ago a podcast I was listening to brought up the subject of ‘non-sexual polyamory’, which can be described as injecting platonic romance into a wider array of interactions - relationships, possessions, creative endeavours etc. In its own language it reminded me of one of the concepts of ihsan; to beautify, but for the pursuit of love as defined earlier; the perception of divinity.

Though these words are not addressed to anyone in particular, they are like love letters to the unseen hoping to be seen, and in a muted sense, a remote extension of kinship. As if to say, I've held up a mirror to my heart, do you recognise yourself in it?

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