Poppy love


‘I shall say what inordinate love is’

I shall say what inordinate love is:
The furiosity and wodness of mind,
An instinguible burniong, faulting bliss,
A great hinger, insatiate to find,
A dulcet ill, an evil sweetness blind,
A right wonderful sugared sweet error,
Without labour rest, contrary to kind,
Or without quiet, to have huge labour.

ANON. (15th century)

I couldn’t say it better than this poet did, all those years ago.  It is a drive that we all hunger for , that we all share .  The challenge I face daily is the same challenge I recognised as a young child, that of wanting to seize moments of transcendence , and be transformed by them.  It is the loss of ego that is liberating,  and love allows that loss.  Some achieve the same glory through religion, and some by the creation of artistic endeavour.  It is transmitted in paintings that move us, and music that makes us quiver and tremble. I’m thinking Radiohead, Mozart, and Puccini, who all manage to touch  my core in a way I cannot explain.  How strange , then, that it is the loss of the ego that permits us to take those journeys, when we spend years building up a sense of our own identity. Someone explain that paradox to me.  I love the way artists have been sharing their experience of life , and in doing so, allowing the boundaries of identity to be submerged momentarily, so that I share the feelings they had through the expression of their art.  In a similar way that two lovers ‘become ‘ as one.  It is the abandonment of ego in each case, that makes life feel marvellous.  And I’m not even Buddhist. 

So many ways to lose oneself, through work or meditation or love. So many ways.  Enjoy the day.


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