Love, Hate, and Indifference.

So, I had another epiphany on my run yesterday.

I was thinking about how people have moved in and out of my life.  That's a completely normal thing to happen so I'm not saying I'm worried about this.  It happens to everyone.  Sometimes it happens because lives go in different directions.  Sometimes it's because our commonality changes.  Sometimes our need for one another is modified enough that we go our separate ways.  And sometimes, sometimes we just no longer like each other.  And that brings me to my latest run-induced insight.

If I asked you to tell me what the opposite of love was what would you say?  Would you say "hate"?  I think most people would give me that answer.  But really, I think the complete opposite of hate is indifference.  Irrelevance.  Unimportance maybe.

You see, love is an emotion.  A sketchy, fickle emotion but an emotion just the same.  Love is full of ups and downs and those troublesome things called "feelings."  Love makes you feel good.  And sometimes it makes you feel bad for a while but probably so you can feel good when it resurfaces again. A cycle.  A cycle full of passion and depth and intensity.

And now let's talk about hate.  Hate is also an emotion.  It's just coming at us from the other end of the emotional spectrum.  Just like acids and bases are opposites on the pH scale but both have the power to dissolve and destroy objects, so it is with hate.  It has an equal amount of passion and depth and intensity.

Love comes barreling at us, full speed, from the left side while hate comes barreling at us, full speed, from the right side.  Makes sense, yes?

So I've realized that the opposite, contrasting feeling of love is indifference.  Within indifference there is the absence of passion.  There is the lack of depth and there is the void of feelings.   Complete disregard and uncaring.  Now that is the divergent sentiment to love.

I've come to believe that where hate exchanges places with love there is the presence of a deep anguish.  Maybe a trust has been broken or an expectation was not met.  There might be lies or cheating or cruel actions and words.  Hell, sometimes I think we might be so frustrated and guilt-ridden with our own actions that we project our self-hatred onto innocent folks.  But really it doesn't matter so much as to what took place or why.  The resulting hatred is a manifestation of unfulfilled expectations.  To ourselves or to others.

Where there is hate there is still fervor and feelings.  Where there is indifference, well, there is nothing left.  A void.  A vacuum.  And to me, that is a very scary idea.  When you arrive at that place I don't believe there is a return ticket back.

How To Choose

I went camping this weekend.  More specifically I went camping, with kids, by myself, at the end of a very curvy and steep (can you say cliff?) road.  Well, that's not a completely accurate statement.  I actually went camping with a load of very good friends but the driving part and the kids part is totally true.

 I detest packing and unpacking a car.  I stress over the planning of the logistics of a trip.  I don't really like traveling by myself.  I really, really dislike driving steep, cliff-edged roads.  Coordinating kids and their ensuing safety, eating, and sleeping needs whilst traveling causes enough anxiety to render me unable to enjoy myself.  And don't even get me started on the chaos that inevitably greets me once I return home.

But I did it.  I camped with kids and fed them football field nachos for dinner.  No one showered for days and I cannot begin to imagine how many cans of soda were consumed.  I drank beer in a parking lot and bourbon under the stars.  I even drove winding roads, albeit slowly, and got us where we needed to be.  In one piece!

I noticed on the way home that the vineys are starting to turn.  And I remembered how Bill would always find them at his job and cut several branches to bring home to me.  In fact, I don't think I considered Fall to have begun until he'd brought me home some of those maple branches.

Wham.  And the sadness slips in again.

A while back, I had someone send me a little blurb they'd found on Facebook probably.  Something about choosing a person who wanted to take care of you, not materialistically, but someone to take care of your heart and your soul.  Those maples made me think about those words.

Maybe we should choose to have people in our lives who will take the time to cut the branches or pick the wild flowers just because they know it will make us smile.  And maybe we should choose the person who will bring us licorice or gummy bears just because they know it's our favorite candy.  Or the one who will sweep or vacuum the mess off the floor because they know how much it annoys you and prevents you from relaxing on the sofa.  The one who knows your favorite song and remembers the name of the dog you had as a kid.  We should surround ourselves with the people who just sit and listen to our talking because they understand that putting those words into the air takes away some of their sting.

I guess it all comes down to finding people who want to quietly bring comfort and kindness and happiness into your life.  With no agenda.  Just to see you happy.  It seems like a simple idea but I'm finding that it's rather rare to find people like this.  Seems like there's an awful lot of selfish, cold, blind folks who can't figure out why their lives are so empty and sad.

And I think about those words again.  Heart and soul.  Fill them up with unselfish love.    

I do believe I can find some of those vine maples to cut by myself.  And I'm pretty sure that this time I'll share them with someone else.

Cyclical

As I was driving home from dropping the kids off at school this morning I noticed a few leaves had begun to turn.  No longer were they the deep green, lush array of summer but instead they were looking drier and vaguely yellowish orange.  I suppose that Fall is on the way.  That’s the thing about seasons--nothing you do can stop them from cycling onward.  

When I saw those leaves this morning I have to admit that the first emotion I felt was a vague feeling of sadness.  Of hopelessness maybe?  And that got me thinking.  Why was that the first thing I felt with the realization that the summer was ending?  Why didn't I feel a spark of excitement with the approaching change of Fall?  Why?

I know that I’m not opposed to the comfortable assurance that a new season is always imminent.  There is definitely comfort in that truth.   And I know that I don’t feel this way because I favor one season over the others.  I believe that each season holds its own beautiful magic and is to be honored and celebrated equally.  

What I think is it’s the awareness that change, any change, reflects on us that time is passing.  And with the passing of time I suppose we have feelings of regret over time squandered.  Opportunities not taken.  Goals not accomplished.  Words not spoken.  So I guess that is called regret and maybe that is the reason I feel this indistinct sense of sadness. 

I know that I am not even afraid of the next season.  My melancholy is not the result of uncertainty or trepidation.  The changes that Nature creates challenge me to embrace the particular offerings of the moment.  Like I said before--each new season has it’s own magic to enjoy.  There is no room for fear in these moments.  Think about how New Year’s heralds in new calendars and new resolutions.  How Spring calls you to throw open the windows and clear away the stuffiness of winter and the arrival of flowers and gardens and warm breezes.  And remember how Summer offers warm, star-filled nights and plentiful fresh foods harvested from the garden.   And Fall causes us to feel the draw to go inside again, maybe creating new schedules and thinking about laying the first fire of the season on an especially mild evening.  Hmmm.  I like to think about the potential each moment provides.

But still the sadness persists.

Maybe it's also how the passing of time takes us farther away from our prior life.  There are plenty of things we want to leave behind us and move away from.  For sure.  But there are many things that we begrudgingly move beyond and I suppose that is why there is a gloomy, heavy-hearted sense to the awareness of time and the world moving onward.  It just takes me farther away from the happiness that gets smaller and smaller when I look at it over my shoulder.

And now, I think I'll go for a run and be glad that the cooler weather is just around the corner.