I observe that I believe in love

I don’t believe in believe. I generally don’t think that believing in things is smart. And I surely don’t define my religion by what my believes are.

But I do have to admit that there are situations where I reach a rational conclusion, while my body acts, and reacts in a totally different way. As if reacting to a different worldview. So, in a sense I have rationally accepted that what my subconscious believes is not always the truth. In a similar way in which you can see a picture and think it is a three dimensional image, only to discover that it was made of only two dimensions. There are thousand of visual illusions. Well I think that some of my believes are similar to visual illusions. Some are not. Even if you were to convince me rationally that jumping from from a great height will not harm me, my body would still oppose a serious resistance. This is what I refer to as believe. And this is what I refer to when I say: I believe in love.

I don’t believe in love because I think that it makes any sense rationally. I believe in love because I have observed my body over and over again, and the only way to explain the waxes and wanes of the pain when I am focused on a woman is by admitting that I believe in love.

What do I believe exactly? I believe that there is this connection, and it links two people, and it is symmetric. Symmetry plays a big role in my believe. I believe that you can feel it. You can lie about it, and you can even ignore it, if you are very busy, or very unclear about your inner world.

When I fall in love, it is not so much the love that I feel, but the excitment of the understanding that love is there. This is another way of saying that I act on love as a mean, not as an end. I don’t act directly on the world, but on my understanding of the world.

If I were to realise, suddenly, that no love is there, my pain disappears, as fast as when I was a kid the fear of a ghost would disappear as soon as in the ghost I would recognise the good old hanger, hanging in the penumbra. I was wrong, no reason to be afraid. And similarly, I was wrong, no reason to be excited. Or, I was wrong, no reason to suffer.

So, why do I suffer, when I suffer?
I don’t suffer when she does not love me. I don’t suffer when she is happily making love with another. No, I suffer when she loves me (or so I am illuded), and she does not tell me. I suffer when I am under the illusion¹ that she secretly loves me, but she would not tell. In this sense all the resistance that a woman might have in telling me: “look I really don’t love you”, plays against me.

And there were time, long time ago, when I would corner a woman just to have her telling me the magic 4 words which would suddenly make me feel better. They would not understand it. Neither would I. I would just use it, like you use something that you know it works, although you don’t know why.

Then I stopped playing that game.. First of all a woman who is cornered is not always truthful. Woman just don’t have the same concept of Truth, we guys have. It’s not black and white for most of them. Is many shades of grey, if not even multicolored.
And secondly I would never end up with a girl. Yeah, I would not feel pain, but I was willing to feel pain, if in this way I could get the girl.

So the whole thing changed. I started to feel that love was something that could pass unrecognised, until a person would stay by herself long enough, enough to recognise it. Did you ever had a woman tell you: I could not feel the love for you, but then I left, and as I was alone on vacation all distractions left me, and you remained. Isn’t it wonderful when it happens? Love was there even before. Surely it wasn’t the period far away from me that increased our connection. It just went on the foreground when all the rest disappeared.
Also it could grow or fade. So I tried not to solve the equation soon, but let it unravel naturally. Withstanding the pain.

And is a strange situation. Think about it:
If she loves me, and she recognise it, I feel no pain.
If she does not love me, and she tells me, I feel no pain.
But the doubt kills me.

And of course this makes me a terrible gamer. Impatient. Too sensitive.

And the worse of all is when she tells me… and I don’t believe her. And this is how I see that I believe in love. It’s an observation. If I did not believe that love was symmetric I could rest on the realization that I love her, and she did not love me. Fair enough, right?

But it doesn’t work like this, you see. The more I am sure of my observation, the more I pretend to know her feeling better than herself. Either I am wrong, and I don’t love her. Or she is wrong, mistaken or lying. The idea that love might be not symmetric is not even considered. And the fact that I assume that love is symmetric is the clear sign of my unconscious belief.

But you see, often love, and attraction is symmetric. And often woman do lie about it. I remember how surpriesed I were the first time I did a particular social meditation. This meditation involves many people, it comprises various parts. In one you are supposed to go and dance erotically with other people. Boys or girls, your choise. Of course they might move away. You chose with whom you dance. You chose how dirty you dance with them. Will you dance cheek to cheek or grope them in the middle of the floor. I have seen it all, and done most. But the fact that is ritualised. That the social element is left out. That no bond is built that will survive the end of the meditation, makes everybody more free.

I remember the girls that I liked, the same one I was attracted to, come and look for me. It was an amazing sensation. Because no one would dance with everybody. The time was limited, and so you had to chose your partners. I had girls that I liked coming and dancing with me while I was already dancing with another girl. It was an awakening experience. Revitalizing, but it made me realise how much girls are contracted. How much they lie. How much they expect you to act. But most of all how much they pretend they are not interested when in truth they are very, very interested.

I remember speaking about all this with a friend of mine who have been doing the same meditation for a bit longer. He confirmed every bit of it. “Yes” he said, “you end up thinking: but then you really are assholes”. [pretending to be that uninterested]

And this just for attraction. Chemical attraction. And if this is how symmetric attraction often (but not always!) is, my subconscious is excused for assuming that love has to be symmetric, too. Don’t you think so?

————-
1) it is a belief too, but since I have already used the word believe speaking about the general issue of love, i.e. I believe in love (that is, I believe love exists), I don’t want to confuse you guys (and our only female reader, Tasha) in calling it a belief too. So we have two levels:

1. I believe there is a love connection between me and x.
2. I believe love exists.

Those are separate claims, although the first subsumes the second. And for the rest of the entry I shall try to use the word believe only for the second case, and ‘I am under the illusion’, or ‘I feel’ in the first case. Sorry for the complication but sometimes the world is complicated, and simplifying beyond its intrinsec complexity is not the right thing to do.

Taking it like a man

Yesterday evening I was restless. I could not find peace. There was something that was needed. A pressure, a release. You know what I mean. Not the realization of life as a dance would release me of that. Nor some qi gung. Qi gung that, honestly I did as a mean, not as an end.

Sometimes when I am in this mood I dream of seducing, or just taking, your girls [the last phrase was meant as young girls, it came out as your girls. I think I’ll keep it that way]. Not this time. This time I was dreaming, nah, desiring, not exaclty, needing to be taken myself. I wanted to be the passive pole of an amazon woman. Dominated and taken sexually.

I know what does it mean. After so many years of grappling with my sexuality I know what each desire hides. This in particular has a very physical reason. A serious need. A need that any man of a certain age will understand, comprehend, and share.

Alpha-Beta male

I have been thinking about this topic of being a beta male;
and I have been thinking about vulgarity;
and I have been thinking about integrity;
and I have been thinking about this constant battle;
and I have been thinking about suicide.

Because, if you are a beta male, then you can as well kill yourself,
but if you are going to kill yourself, then you can as well live with integrity.
What can you lose?

But what does it mean to live with integrity? It means to live every day as if it was the last. Which, if you are on the edge (again the edge) of suicide, it could be quite litteral.

On the other hand I would like to live with such integrity, that the internal feeling of keeping my integrity, is more meaningful to me than the external fact of getting the woman. Which I think is the difference, the real difference, the core of the difference, between a beta and an alpha male.

You could say that an alpha male makes an action for it’s own sake, while a beta male makes an action to reach an end. The action then becomes a mean. The action then is not authenthic. It smells of vulgarity and compromise.

So we have a nice polarity here. On the left side we have

Alpha ——————————————————————— Beta
Integrity ————————————————————- Vulgarity
Action as an end ——————————————- Action as a mean
Authenthic ——————————————————- Compromise
Living each day as if it was the last ——————————– Planning
Fully alive —————————————————- Mostly Sleeping
Living in reality ———————————————-living in a dream

We have spoken about love as a mean. But I think this is different. The issue is not to ‘love as an end in itself’. But to make every action as if it was an end in itself. Like dancing.

And the way to move from one side to the other? I believe there are many ways? Facing your own suicide, is just one. But I believe a popular one, if we have to count the number of great people who will tell you they were on the verge of suicide, before deciding it was just not worth to live like that. But it was worth living nevertheless. Thomas Edison comes to my mind, and of course Buckminster Fuller, Bhagwan Shree Rajneesh (AKA Osho), Gideon Fontalba (now Shin).

And if this does not brings me the companion, it does not matter. At least I have lived with integrity. With authenthicity.

I wonder if I am able to live the rest of the day, like if I were dancing. Without planning to live like this for my whole life. Just today, for the remaining hours.

I remember a friend of mine, Frala. She had a physical defect, that made always be singled out as a child. The other kids would band together to beat her. She learned rapidly that whining was just not going to help her at all. Instead she bacame a great warrior, and then the best spiritual warrior I ever met. I remember her telling me of one of the litterary passage she preferred. Siddharta living her family. So Siddharta goes to her father, announcing that he needs his permission to live and join the renouncers. He refuses it. Siddharta stands.
He asks: -what are you waiting for.
Siddharta answers: -you know.
-You will get tired.
-I will get tired.
-You will die.
-I will die.
-You will fall asleep.
-I will not fall asleep.

Now! In that not, there is the ferocity that is needed to live each day as if it was the last. To be an alpha male. And now you know why this blog is anonymous. I could not make an action of such beauty, and not make it anonymous. It’s anonymity preserves it from being polluted by my own ego.