We try, don’t we? We try to love stuff for all it’s not. We’ve become so good at dismissing what we really want by convincing ourselves we love its opposite, just so that life is adequately tolerable instead of magnificently …. um…. magnificent.
How do we reach this point of settling for less than?
We look back at once we dreamed. We see what hasn’t worked and think; I don’t want THAT anymore. We remember times when we were hurt by another person and deduce; I’m never going THERE again. As a consequence we place a black mark beside our dreams, alongside our truth, and turn instead to a relieving source of comfort. We find a safe haven to rest our weary heart, be it a holiday destination, a complying comrade, a wine bottle, or all of the above. Prolonged, socially-acceptable wound-licking evolves into a declaration about the comforting subject or object. In an attempt to disguise our pain, we find ourselves loving something for all it’s not.
I’ve met women who ‘turned’ lesbian because they’d been so severely hurt by men. You can’t be heterosexual and love a woman because she’s not a man.
How do you feel about your work? One particular Sculptor comes to mind when I say that you can’t be an Artist and rejoice in earning your pay-packet through the Psychology Degree you took as your Plan B after leaving high school, ‘just in case’ you didn’t make it creatively.
If you’re wondering why you’re not feeling magnificently magnificent, look at the things you love, and ask yourself;
Am I loving this for all it’s not?