Love   Leave a comment

I thought that Love meant always liking the beloved.

Yes, falling in love, adoring our children, or laughing with good friends–all of these things are glorious.  All of these states of being bring pleasure and joy and take us out of ourselves to where we are more–we are part of something bigger than ourselves.  But the sensations of pleasure that these wonderful times bring us are fleeting.  By definition they and we are finite.

However, these times of intimacy and joy are so delightful that we wish to remain in them permanently.  Our culture teaches us that love or being in love is the only reality to seek for; we demand that we stay in that frame of mind and body permanently.

What happens when the beloved is no longer pleasing?  What if his needs are downright demanding?

Before I had children, my parents had done such a dedicated job of raising me that it never even crossed my mind there may have been times they did not want to take care of me when I had a problem.  So I was unprepared for the mental dissonance caused by my lack of desire to take care of my baby when it was inconvenient for me.

All lights out, except the night-light in the hall.  No noise except an occasional random bark from the dog, and the far-off roar of the interstate highway.  There is the peaceful snore of the husband, but the most pressing sound is the wail of an infant.

Imagine my shock when I found I did not experience an overwhelming rush of happiness that caused me to leap joyfully out of bed to care for him.

Before I was actually in the situation, I really thought I would want to.

And I didn’t.  I had absolutely no interest in getting up at two o’clock in the morning and fixing the wet or hungry problem of my child.  I just wanted to get back to sleep.

I thought that Love meant always liking the beloved.

I learned then I did not have it in me to like the beloved at two o’clock in the morning.

But I also learned that is not what Love is.

 

 

 

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Posted December 17, 2015 by swanatbagend in parenting, reflections

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