That word love seems so inadequate for the wide range of human emotions. I love mangoes and I love my son. I love my father, gone now for 25 years. I love dancing and I love my ex-wife. I love my men friends. I love my mother and I love full moon nights. I love myself.
Valentines Day celebrates another kind of love, romantic love, that special love that exists between primary partners, a man and woman or a man and a man or a woman and woman. This kind of love involves sensualness, sexuality and intense attachment.
Winged Cupid, the harbinger of this particular kind of fate, is always portrayed with his bow drawn, the arrow back and he is blindfolded. Against his arrows there is no defense in heaven or earth. We are struck╔ often unaware, unsuspecting, at the wrong time. A year ago that happened to me. It was an absolutely impossible situation. Full of passion and pain. Inappropriate, improbable, unrealistic, yet I was absolutely and unequivocally sure of its truth. The arrow went deep. It drew blood and it hurt. It still hurts. I suspect it will always hurt.
In Greek mythology Cupid, the God of love and the son of Venus, falls in love with Psyche, a mortal of renowned beauty. Venus intensely jealous of Psyche, tries to thwart their love by giving her seemingly impossible tasks to accomplish. Somehow Psyche manages to complete them: her love for Cupid cannot be stopped or imprisoned. It is too powerful and finally Zeus himself grants Psyche immortality and marries her to Cupid, joining forever Love and the Soul, which is what Psyche actually means.
What a beautiful thought╔ that love often asks of us impossible things. It asks us to look beyond our puny egos, it asks us to tolerate pain and discomfort. In true love we are linked with something much bigger than ourselves or even the other person. We connect to the soul if you will, a much greater force. And perhaps through our lover, our soul mate, we can come closer to God, that is, to our true self. Happy Valentines Day.
This is Michael Ellis with a Perspective.