How important are they? Is it always required? Is it always, Love?
Someone somewhere wrote that the answer to every question is always Love, and often I write on the waves of that echo wanting to believe it’s true, not because it always is, so we have a right to be wary of every question asked since it is always true that answers generate money.
Having sat across from many a psychologist I’d never encountered one that asked if I loved myself or whether I was self-sufficient. Curious how I would have answered, I wondered when self-love and self-sufficiency became such a strong focus of those claiming that personal healing required some singularity of purpose demanding the complete release of trauma. However, what does all that mean?
Why are the results of our pain so often devalued, allowing only the results of our joy to stand in the spotlight? Why are our deaths mourned and our births celebrated when both make us who we are?
We were born loving ourselves. It isn’t self-love we gain in life; it’s self-hatred we find. We were born depending on others. It isn’t self-sufficiency we gain; it’s vulnerability we lose.
Friend and enemy, lost and found, loved and hated, dependent and independent. We are all of these things at once while being bombarded with messages that suggest we can’t find peace or healing unless we choose one or the other, but this can’t be true.
Survival requires that we straddle the fences linked together by our chains of discontent to understand the balance or imbalance of our position as we observe others. To know ourselves. Maybe it isn’t always the chains we need to focus on so much as how and whom to use them for or against when we choose to come down.
To hate ourselves is to recognize there is something within we are unhappy with, but the acknowledgment is also the loving of the self. To depend on ourselves is to recognize our strength, but to depend on others is to acknowledge our vulnerability. To be a friend, we will, at times, also be to someone an enemy.
Self-love and self-hate are like eye-glasses that only we can write the prescriptions for to promote self-correction. No one else can see what we see, nor can they do what we can do with hindsight that only we’ve been entrusted to nurture into a vision of crystal clear sunshine.
I don’t know the answers but I’m keeping my chips on Love while staring directly into the sun and protected by prescriptions written in the values of hope.