I got a good chunk of a blog written and then decided mid-page I didn’t want to go there any longer. It was an epistle about knowing oneself and I found myself, maybe therapeutically, revealing aspects of me I then decided I didn’t want to share at random with people who either read my blogs (all 3 of them) or people who peruse my musings on Facebook.
So I was pounding away about some elements I realized I didn’t necessarily want to share with everybody. There are people here who know a little bit about me – those bits I choose to share – and people here who know a great deal about me because our connections through the years have been, ahem, closer. Closer at a number of different levels, not necessarily at an intimate level. Or maybe even so. I certainly am never ever about to write about ‘all’ my connectedness. Does that make sense?
And so, in knowing myself, which was my original intention – and it’s a good thing to know ourselves. Socrates suggested an “unexamined life” is not worth horse droppings, or words to that effect, and tiresome old Polonius told his worthless son, Laertes, that “to thine own self” we must be true. Am I true to mine own self? Therein can lie “the rub” just to hearken Shakespeare for a second time in a single paragraph.
I like to see myself as a fellow who has always been honorable. But, my basic ‘humanness’ has kept that from always being the case. Those who know me well know that to be true, and people I have lived with know it to be truer than true. And in my heart I share that misapprehension.
Otherwise, I am a human being. I eat, I sleep, I urinate, defecate and copulate. One of the last three is shared, the other two are private. And I am more than that. I think, I opine, I create, I laugh, I mourn, and sometimes even cry.
And most important of all to my ‘humanness’ is that I love. I love carnally, I love friendship-wise and I love spiritually. My need to love is profound, as is my need to be loved, and I hope that I am. In this I don’t just mean sexual love (although that is a component of the complete picture), but also love as a deep emotional commitment to people I hold dear, including people of my own sex. I have and have had male friends whom I love as much as I have loved a woman though, since I am straight, not in a physical way. But the bonding nature of such friendships is surely a component of love.
Some think the term ‘love’ is too blithely used and hence has become cheapened. I disagree – at least for me. If I tell somebody I love them it is meant as exactly that. No, I don’t want to marry the person or couple with the person, it just means that my emotional response to their presence is deeper than merely liking the individual. So if I have told you I love you, I mean it fully. Life is too short to not love and love sincerely.