A Truth About Disengagement
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I was conversing with my son yesterday when I came to an awful realization...When we become adults, never again do we feel love for another person that isn't marred by other antonymous emotions. As our bodies become tainted by all we allow, or seek to welcome into them, so our wells of love become tainted by our experiences, both firsthand and vicarious. Our inheritance of loss.
I thought of how I've dealt with my own experiences and how I could guide my son to a better path. One where he will lose much less and maybe gain more courage than I possess.
It's all too easy to disengage, to neglect to garner the strength to make a supplicating gesture to another...Easy to allow pusillanimity and false pride to grow in the fertile soil of regret until they become wide, tall trees that block the light of love and cover you in the dark shade of desolation...
In keeping with my cowardice, I realized that I have developed the habit of associating love with absenteeism, or what I disingenuously call freedom. It's so much easier to love an ideal, safer too, but so lacking in the richness,purity, and unselfishness the voluntary enslavement that deep love often demands can bring.(c) All Rights Reserved by Kristiana Bennett
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