Love lot like any other biological function happens repeatedly till we die. The one thing which separates love from other needs is its blinding hold on the self. It always feels that love 'like this' has never happened before and will never happen ever again. And, in all probability this ought to be true. This is how I would I'd like to define 'Love'. Or I really don't understand love.
I strongly believe that things which consume our mind, consume our bodies too. They decide our physical existence. Beginning of love can be thought of as the aroma of a new exotic delicacy. Yes, the romance we experience in the early days is lot like that aroma which captivates us for the first time.
We tend to get attracted, distracted & diverted as we keep on moving forward to play a part in the nature cycle of birth, sustenance & death. These are the ways to make us get into the self-destructive act of loving. All the same, you resist love or accept it, the effects are not going to change. Love is going to topple all your ideas of life; and about yourself. You can then choose to stand in that hurricane waiting for it to get over or become a part of it & lose your identity. Losing your identity is the bravest thing you can do. It makes your realise the magnanimity of nature and your feeble yet essential role in it.
Love batters you, moulds you into a new being to be fed into the circle of existence. The part of you which died takes a form of fossil to give clues to earthly beings as to what to expect next.
Love is always a matter of choice. No matter how we feel about it. It is a full time job. You have to nurture your love. Let's look at it as something which is killing or burning you from inside. But, if you take its proper care, it cures a lot of things. It hastens the process of your dissolution of existence into mother nature. It is what mother nature wants from you. And, so she cures you by love. If you resist, you get reprimanded. Accepting love, and losing yourself in the hurricane to metamorphose into something the world needs is indeed art. Art is Love. So, love is love. Excuse me! What is love? Love is what you lack...perhaps!
Book Suggestions Below:
.
