So yesterday I reblogged the “roly poly" device that has been making the rounds. Being excited about it enough to tell everyone withinearshot, we got to talking about it in more detail. One thing that became apparent right away was that it offered a very simplistic view of the concept of love. It is quite endearing but ultimately naive.
Maybe it’s my own heartbreaks, but reducing love to the simultaneous movement between two identical objects is actually kind of sad.
So I started using the above apples to illustrate alternatives.
They are both apples yet are different varieties. Different sizes. Different brands. Slightly different shapes.
What would happen if we moved one apple and sometimes the “corresponding” apple didn’t move? Or sometimes it moved in the same direction and sometimes in the opposite direction?
Or what if there were 30 apples, and the movement of one affected the movement of another (or more) of the other apples, but randomly? To me this is a more accurate representation of love. The times I’ve been deepest in love with someone I’ve found myself there through a series of often seemingly inconsequential events, surrounded by a host of other people and circumstances. How do we know who we will affect so deeply? How do we know who will affect us? It’s mostly out of our control. And it’s certainly not equal indefinitely.
When we are in the beginning stages of love, there is only one: Us. We breathe as one, think, act, love, and make love as one. Yet this state, regardless of its duration, like our lives, is finite. It is often fleeting. It is complex, tragic and beautiful.
I live to love, in all its forms. It is intrinsic to my nature (and I believe ultimately our nature). It is often masked in all manner of devices, both digital and psychological. Ultimately, in defiance of time or age, it prevails. Despite all odds, despite all resistance, despite all contradictions, it prevails.
But it is not, despite our best intentions, two identical eggs moving as one in perpetuity.