I do not believe that love grows and develops in us. It does not develop thanks to our parents, nor thanks to the woman that comes into our life, nor because of the loving Grandmother. Love does not grow out of reactions and experience. Love is like air: always there.
We do not see the air, neither do we see love. We only see both in the reaction they cause on others whenever the reaction gets transported. Everything reacts to the existence of love and air.
If we do not feel accepted at home, we wait and search, for it is one of our natural tendencies, to desire to have those around us that respond to the signs of love we radiate. And so we search and trust that we will find others that interchange love signs with us, if there are none at home.
Love is an essential quality within our existence and independent of how the world around us might treat us when we are born into it, we search with nose, eyes, ears, skin and hands for something that will agree with the love in us. It might be hard to find it at times, but that seems to be irrelevant for us: we search.
That is perhaps the reason why so many jump, dive and fly in any possible direction, as soon and wherever they suspect or notice signs of what they consider to be love. I also do not think that there is a physical love. That bodily sensation – sex – is, next to the automatism coming from nature, an accompaniment to the soul’s love state, or an impulse, a necessity, very much independent from love. It is however our luck that again and again we meet individuals and are given the opportunity to experience sex with those that we also are willing to give sings of love to. It is also our luck that we might find very clear signs of loving coming from those to whom we fell physically attracted to and wish to take in physically as well.
Some are very sure that love is a feeling. Some are very shure that love is not a feeling.
Everything tells and shows me that it cannot be a feeling, but a perpetual, existential state.
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