More thoughts on the nature of love

I warn you that this might become a running theme as I try to wrap my heart and my mind around the idea of love.   

When we love someone, we want to take their pain away, soothe their worries, and give them solace.  That’s different than fixing them.  Or fixing ourselves.   We might need to fix a problem, or remove an obstacle, or overcome a challenge.  We don’t need to fix each other.   Even if a person is broken, nobody else can fix them.  All we can do is love them for who they are, now, broken places and all.   We should not even try to fix each other.  If we do, it means we judge each other as broken and not acceptable.   Isn’t that the very definition of conditional love? 

Here’s Coldplay’s take on conditional love, but I don’t think they meant it that way. 

When you try your best but you don’t succeed
When you get what you want but not what you need
When you feel so tired but you can’t sleep
Stuck in reverse.

And the tears come streaming down your face
When you lose something you can’t replace
When you love someone but it goes to waste
Could it be worse?

Lights will guide you home
And ignite your bones
And I will try to fix you

And high up above or down below
When you’re too in love to let it go
But if you never try you’ll never know
“Just what your worth”

Lights will guide you home
And ignite your bones
And I will try to fix you

Tears stream, down on your face
When you lose something you cannot replace
Tears stream down your face and I…

Tears stream, down on your face
I promise you I will learn from my mistakes
Tears stream down your face and I…

Lights will guide you home
And ignite your bones
And I will try to fix you.

What is the nature of love?

Lately I’ve had some very provocative discussions about the nature of love, and I am still working out which parts seem true.  Here’s what I think I understand so far.  

Love is a verb.  

To say I love someone means that I know them deeply and value them specifically; they are not generic to me.   I may also feel limerance, or that intoxication of feeling “in love.”  I may also feel attraction, or sexual chemistry with the person.   These are all distinct experiences that do not completely overlap with I love you. 

I love you should mean “I know you, I treasure you, I am fond of you, and I accept you as you are.”   Essentially, it’s the gift we give when we know someone deeply and we choose to value them despite being aware of their flaws and limits as people. 

Beyond that, we are trained to believe that the act of loving creates some kind of social contract that the love between people will endure.  Sometimes these contracts are formalized, as in marriages for love, in which partners promise to continue to love the person and maintain them as a romantic partner in the future.   This contract usually includes a monogamy clause, meaning that not only do I plan to love you forever, but I plan to forego loving anyone else.   Sometimes the corollary social contracts are unstated, as in the love that occurs during long term friendships.   Long term friends tend to love each other despite and because of understanding each other deeply and have a history of giving time and thought to each other, but this social contract tends to have different kinds of expectations than the love of a romantic nature.   Maybe it is not love itself, but our expectations of each other, that start to confine love.

Pure love is an action and an act of generosity, based on acceptance of the person without regard to personal needs.  

Conditional love is a transaction and an act of manipulation.   In conditional love, person A may value person B, but this valuing is at least partly a result of person A wanting something from person B and therefore is never based on true acceptance.   Many short term relationships seem based on conditional love.   Clues are that once the people know each other better, they love each other less, and evaluate each other rather than accept each other.  

What I can’t quite work out yet is why it is sometimes quite easy to practice pure love in friendships, where little is expected but much is given between friends, and sometimes quite hard to love unconditionally in romantic relationships.   Partners love each other, but become upset by the waxing and waning of attention, flirtation, and attraction.   Distrust creeps in when partners fear the judgment of each other and they hide aspects of themselves.  Even if the relationship began with acceptance, they start to judge each other and defend against each other.   Is it possible to love purely, and what would that look like?  Can this only occur in the case of friendship without romance?  

Another Satellite Night

I love to see live shows even when I’ve seen the artist before.  Especially if I get to hang out with a favorite friend when doing it. 

We started off with drinks and appetite enhancers at home, then parked easily right by the venue—-makes me worry that the active music scene here doesn’t have enough support—where are the fans parking?   We had dinner at the Mellow Mushroom down the street and shockingly that place was packed.   Apparently I made an inappropriate comment to a guy at the bar when I was just trying to describe the quality level of Knob Creek bourbon.  Being honest reportedly came across as elitist but hey, I am an elitist when it comes to bourbon and my life is better for it.  Anyway, a girl can’t be too careful when random guys at the bar ask for opinions out of the blue.  Shut em down early and often you can relax and enjoy the evening without excessive unwanted attention.

After a de-lish dinner we walked down the street (brrrr the temps sure dropped!) and into the show.  Tonight two DBT mates played at the Ballroom.  First up was Will Hoge and his band.  Will Hoge was rocking it by the time we got there and was playing straight up Nashville rock and enjoying it all.   His voice reminded me a little of Buddy Fleck from the old Shreveport R&B band A-Train, but with a lighter touch.   His fan base included lots of frat boys, but this is a Greek university town.   I really loved his tune Sex Lies and Money,  and enjoyed These were the days, with harmony from a redheaded girl fiddle player whose name I never caught.   My favorite might have been the bluesy  song Silver or Gold, with incisive lyrics about a relationship that’s just not healthy for either one of them:  “I wish you would tell me that you didn’t mean the things that you said yesterday……sometimes a woman needs more than nothing to keep her from going astray…..but you come home every evening and make me think leaving….is the only things to keep me from going insane…..”  Tell it brother. 

Last up was Jason Isbell, and this was version 2 for me this year because I saw him just a few months ago.  I don’t know what happened in the intervening time, but tonight, this band was tight and in the groove and I couldn’t stop dancing even though I didn’t know many of the words.    While he played lots of the same songs from a couple months ago, tonight they were more upbeat and definitely more complex.   He’s got some killer lyrics and a fan base that includes many adorable young tatooed braless women snapping shots with cameras and phones and planning to share them on a secret site later, and separately, young men who seem pretty ardent about his lyrics and could sing them loudly whenever needed.   I had more fun than I could have imagined, and we got right up front, 2nd row standing, and had great views of the guys getting sweaty and being earnest.   Highlights for me were once again, a cover of Psycho Killer, (qu’est ce que c’est? ba ba ba ba ba ba ba ba ba ba….) and amazingly, a fantastic cover of one of my old Van Morrison favorites, Into the Mystic, which is really hard to do well.   (I say that having seen lesser talents attempt it and fail miserably!)   Isbell played lots of anti-war songs and others off his record (Decoration Day, Chicago Promenade, the Magician) and indulged the crowd with some DBT faves too.  

The evening ended too soon for me because the music was so unexpectedly good and the whole time was so easy and fun.  I woke up happy, recalling good music and great conversation, the kind that helps you change your life for the better.  

Sharing my sorrow

Monday at work started like a normal day.  Then I got a message that changed my week and all of our lives.   To our shock, Mom and I learned that my cousin Tommy had died suddenly over the weekend.  Over the next 24 hours we made our way to New Orleans to begin mourning with my family.   Tommy’s mom asked me to say some words at the funeral, and here is part of what I shared.   

An excerpt of thoughts shared at the funeral of my cousin Tommy O’Brien, Feb. 13, 2008

 

I grew up with Tommy as an ever-present part of my extended family life.  Although he had two sides of his family living in New Orleans, I only had one, so all of my holidays and family events included him.  When we were children, we shared many things that made my life better.   I want to share some of the things that made me love Tommy.   At this time, our feelings are complicated and the unfolding of experiences leaves us confused.  Still, there are things I know to be true.

 

I have Snapshots of Tommy in my mind

 

1.  Tommy as a baby, one of the most beautiful ever.  My, mom found a picture in a magazine once.  It was a full page ad of a gorgeous dark haired baby with amazing bright blue eyes.  She cut it out and gave it to Vera saying “it looks just like Tommy!”  And it did.  His black hair, the longest eyelashes surrounding the bluest eyes ever—-a chick magnet even before the age of 1….

 

2. Tommy at age 4, hanging upside down on the monkey bars when we were playing at our house on Judy Drive, the same street where Colleen and Mel live now—who can forget his energy, his playfulness, his daring, and of course, we all know he loved showing off!!!

 

3. Tommy, at age 6, at the West End Park on the lakefront for the Charlie’s Saints Marching Club family picnic, jumping in the sack race and determined to win…..

 

4.  Tommy at age 8, with all of us and Grandma, going to Burger King with the expired coupons.  Those of you who knew our grandmother knew her to be a persuasive woman.  We cowered behind her when she made comments that should not be made in public, and when she insisted that merchants honor expired coupons and give discounts……and how they did, probably just to keep her from making a fuss….Tommy told those stories on grandma and remembered every detail of the story and told it with relish from teen years onward— and I think his versions got a little more embellished with each retelling!  Still, this snapshot makes me see Tommy as he was at 8—sharp, perceptive, and commenting on adults in ways children perhaps shouldn’t. 

 

5.  I don’t know what age this was, but somewhere along the line, probably when one of us went to wash up before dinner, Tommy starting the tradition of putting salt and pepper in our milk during Thanksgiving dinner—this progressed to all kinds of other items being put in the milk—corn, beans, etc….until finally none of us would leave the table for fear of being the victim—–no wonder we were confined to the children’s table for so many years!  I see Tommy, smiling, the practical joker, just a little sneaky, always trying to get away with things…

 

6.  I see Tommy between 10 and 12, playing a game we called Street City Rollers.  In this game, which we only played at my house because we had carpet, while his house had wood floors, I believe the idea was that one of us would get on the floor and start rolling around like a steamroller, knocking the others down like bowling pins.  I can’t say where my Mom and Auntie Vera were—maybe having a glass of wine in some other part of the house?   Anyway, the 4 of us cousins loved this game and played it for several years.   I see Tommy now, laughing, rolling wildly, knocking us all down, having easy and lighthearted fun, including everyone….

 

7.  My lifelong love of rock music really began with Tommy at age 12, introducing me to Led Zeppelin and Aerosmith.   He was so excited to share this music with me, and we would sit in his room with the lights out and the door shut with a black light poster on the wall, and crank it!  He knew all the words, especially to the intense ones, like Whole Lotta Love—for those of you who know it, you can just see him singing along especially at the ending….Thinking back now, on Tommy knowing the meanings of those lyrics, I realized he had knowledge beyond his years, but I remember his passion, excitement, experimentation, and generosity in sharing that with me, and in sharing himself, and the poignancy of how he wanted to be known….

 

8.  I see a snapshot of Tommy and me, during our early teen years, confiding in each other, testing out ideas about girls and boys on each other, telling secrets, and believe it or not….complaining to each other about our parents, but also acknowledging that we might share a lot of their qualities already…..

 

9.  I also see clearly Tommy at age 15, leading the way during Mardi Gras, me and a group of friends, and how we narrowly evaded some serious trouble in th wrong alley downtown….Tommy was so brave and showed leadership, caretaking, and of course, his keen interest in girls….

 

10.  Now I fast forward a bit in my memory.   I see a snapshot of Tommy at his youthful wedding to Caryn, excited, like a kid who just got his favorite wish granted, happy and sharing his thrill about simple things like wedding gifts with his new bride…..I remember his happiness at launching their new life together, even though they were really starting with nothing. 

 

11.  I see Tommy a little older now, in our mid 20’s,  talking about his mom when she graduated from UNO.   He was telling me how smart she is, and that finally other people would know it, and how proud he was of her for achieving something that he didn’t even want to try…..

 

12.  I see Tommy’s face shining at the birth of Tommy Jr., and he was so happy to have a son, making so many plans for his future, maybe even getting a bit carried away with the idea of a son….

 

13.  I also remember Tommy during Colleen’s graduation from medical school, his generous speech full of amazement for the accomplishments of his sister—“the doctor….”, he was so proud of her, and I was so surprised at his speech.  Not that I was surprised that he was generous, but that he was able to express his love for her, his pride in her, and be there for her, even while not always understanding her very well….

 

14.  I talked to Tommy often during Caryn’s pregnancy with Sean.  When he called, he was so excited that she and I were pregnant at the same time, that our kids could hang out together…..and later, he was so happy that his childhood dream of having 2 sons had come true….I see Tommy telling me about the birth of Sean, and how he always wanted to name a son Sean, and that it felt so good to be a father again.

 

15.   Now I see Tommy in his late 30s, telling me about the good times—he described these times as the happiest in his life—the family vacations in Florida with jet skis and wave runners and everyone all together.  He was so happy on the times that he was there with Caryn and little Tommy and Sean, along with his mom and dad, and Colleen and Mel and Megan….He told me how he and his dad made sure everyone had a good time, and he wanted me to figure out how I could bring my boys down for one of them……but what I recall most strongly is how he believed that these vacations were some of the best times of his life…

 

16.  Although I didn’t see it, I can picture it—Tommy, 18 months ago, hanging from the roof of the Superdome after Katrina, determined to be part of the rebuilding of the city, taking pride in his work, and persevering in pursuing his career despite great personal hardship.  Most of you know he had had a severe accident that left him with scars and he required so many surgeries on his leg….he suffered with severe pain….yet there he was, hanging in a harness, fixing that Dome roof…..  

 

17.  Too short a time ago, I can see another clear vision of Tommy, dazed and sad, with his arm around Sean, watching Tommy Jr. speak at Caryn’s memorial service, so proud and amazed by his son, but with some of the life already out of him….

 

18.  Now I see my last memory of Tommy, and with all the memories we will ever have of him finalized, too early, at age 45…..