The Courage to Love is The Courage in Which We Face Death

I see men in my life, experience their words, their eye contact, and their unspoken desires to love fully and be loved fully in return. But what holds us back from that full commitment to love is the same fear that we have for death. What would happen if we completely let go of preconceived notions, of judgements of ourselves, of others, and allowed ourselves to fully love one another. With no fear. With no abandon. With every cell of our body loved them.

I have just returned from a trip to Costa Rica which was slightly dissatisfying. Because I was there to love, completely, to give love my all, and He, my Costa Rican lover, was distant. He was protecting his heart because he knew I would be leaving in  2 weeks. But love was the only reason I was there, the only reason I'm on earth, and I wish to love fully, even if that means I get my heart broken and feel the depths of despair. I miss him now, his smell, his body heat in the bed, his kisses in the morning, his undying compassionate presence. But most of all I miss his authentic self, which at his core, I know he is a Selfless, fearless lover.

I love the concept of being able to face love the same way you face death; they both have the power to transform us, to burn away at us our shadow, and to teach us the Ultimate Teaching. Eventually, we are burned by love, but this fire is purifying, distilling us down to our very core essence, that of God. If we are not willing to love, we are missing our chance to be realized beings.

"Death is the Road to Awe" Is one of my favorite quotes from the movie, "The Fountain," in which the antagonist is searching for eternal life through a scientific breakthrough in medicine as his wife is dying of cancer. She has surrendered to the fact that she's dying, and confesses that she's no longer scared, that she's at peace with her passing. It's her husband that is frantically running around denying reality, unable to witness and love her fully in the moment because he is afraid of death. He names it a disease. But the only disease that humans have is the inability to exist in the moment. We resist so much; so much of reality. What if we sat with love. What if we held hands with death? What if we kissed the night sky as it swallowed us up, traveling through the voids of space-time?

I used to deny love; to push it away, to disvalue it, I even tried to fight it. I never won. Surrender is the only thing that wins that fight. Now I have a partner that allows me to feel this old pattern in my that would shove love to the side, but the pattern is no longer there. I try to resist, I try to pout and scream and shove at love, and it no longer budges. Then I laugh at the absurdity of it all, and embrace love as I burst into laughter, curled up in a ball on the floor with my beloved.

 If my man hurts, I softly put my hand on his heart and ask him, "How's your heart, lover?" and gently wait for the answer of his longing, of his longing to be with one woman, to have a house and kids, to make his home and place in life. This is his soul's yearning, and even though I, his lover, is present, he knows it's not for keeps. He wants to play for keeps, and his heart burns in the face of that desire.  He told me stories of almost dying, of almost getting consumed by giant waves in the ocean, or held at gun point, and he just relaxed into the possibility of death. He survived by being ready to die at any moment. But will love be the thing that kills him? Will the yearning be so deep, that it is never quite reached? He is the best man I have ever met in my life; always considerate, always working, cleaning, cooking, finding ways to show his endless devotion. Alway surrendering his ego. I'm astounded by his ability to stay calm in the face of adversity or conflict or inner turmoil. But at some point don't we have to scream out to the beloved, to pry our hearts open and say,

"Just Fucking Love Me
That's All I ask.
Love me like You'll die tomorrow,
and I'll love you back."