Love
It has been almost two years since I listened to the 1956 book “The Art of Love” by Erich Fromm. It seems like it took a while for me to wrap my head around it.
I had tried to put the lessons from the book into practice as good as I could, but it was hard because not everyone was ready to accept my love. And part of love is to not push it on anyone. It means being there for people when they need and want it but also letting them go and allowing their own experiences and choices, whatever that may mean for them.
This time it had been different. I felt like there was no expectation placed on me but also no restriction. It was just free flow. I often had the desire to articulate my feeling in the famous three words, but I always decided to just keep going with the flow and try to rather talk through my actions.
I had to think of the story of an Indian cricket player who had been verbally abused by a British player ahead of a game. During the game, inside the rules of the game, he destroyed his contrary with his skill. After the match, in an interview, he said: “The British speak with their mouth. We speak with our bat.”
Still, when the words entered my ears, I was surprised by how good they felt.
It was probably the most beautiful sentence I heard in my entire life:
“I love you... ...unconditionally.”
It was like the emotional reaction to the first part of this sentence was amplified tenfold by its following second part. I almost want to make it a meme.
This is what I want to give to the world. And someone wanting to give this to me seems like a very good sign that I'm on a good way. And also, first of all, it's a good indicator that unconditional love is actually possible.
It also reminds me very much of a poem I read on a wall in the Guggeneim Museum in Bilbao that seemed to energize me like nothing else:
