Making Love Is Not Love But It May Be The Beginning of Love
Making love requires no thought. You move as the fronds of a palm tree move in the breeze. It is all instinct. All wonder.
After making love there is nothing like making love, slowly, idly, like walking without a destination, or swimming in a warm sea.
Making love defies explanation or exposition, description or clarification. Making love is one of those rare human exchanges in which the more you give, the more you get back.
When you are making love, there is a moment when time stops, when the air grows still, when you enter a state of nothingness, a state of purity and completion. That is the moment to strive for.
Making love is a meditation, a quest for perfection. We make our own destiny, not because we can see the road ahead, but because we cannot see the road ahead. It is the road, the motion, the forward movement, that takes us to ourselves.
If sex is a journey, orgasm is the both the purpose and journey’s end.
What is love? Love is like being on a small boat in the middle of the sea with no compass and no one to rely on except each other.
In The Symposium, Plato tell us that humans were originally created with four arms, four legs and a head with two faces. Fearing their power, Zeus split them into two separate parts, condemning them to spend their lives in search of their other halves. Making love is the acceptance that you are one half of a whole and you have found the other half.
In Shakespeare’s Othello, when the irate Brabantio asks Iago: ‘What profane wretch art thou?’ Iago replies: ‘I am one, sir, that comes to tell you your daughter and the Moor are now making the beast with two backs.’
Sex is a three act play: foreplay, play and afterplay. Love is a noun as well as a verb, a treacherous construct.
Making Love in Love
If the existentialists are right, that life is meaningless, and if we acknowledge that, we are better equipped to find pleasure in small things. Making love is one of those small things that grows and becomes an all-consuming, vast and precious thing.
When strangers’ eyes meet across a crowded room and they want to fall into bed, that is not love. It is passion, instinct, sexual desire. Making love comes before love. It is the transformation of our base instincts into the gold of exquisite potential.
Making love is easier for a woman, more pleasurable for a woman. She isn’t fated by the male psychosis to prove herself, to be a great lover, just to be a lover. She takes the man who wants her into her body and absorbs his oils and essence. A part of him enters her and becomes a part of her.
The moment of orgasm is like the first dramatic moment of birth when you draw breath and scream out that you are alive. It is hard to imagine the moment when you fade back into the vacuum and draw your last breath.
Making love is not love but it may be the beginning of love. Love, true love, first love, are uniquely human. Love enters us like a vague ailment. Your head spins. Your underarms tingle. Love hurts and love has consequences: marriage, babies, separation, longing, human complications.
When you love someone, your lips are incomplete until they are oiled by a kiss. You can say ‘I love you’ a thousand ways, but you can say it better with silence and a kiss.
In life there are few perfect moments. You cannot plan them – the very act interferes with the laws of the universe – but you must be ready to recognize them when they come.
Inside our mind there is hidden place that contains the mind within the mind. There, you will find another version of yourself that may be your true self. We do not find that self by travelling, by searching. We find that self by sitting still, being quiet and looking inside. Ask yourself: who am I? And your true self will answer.
It is Katie Boyd, the character created for “Katie in Love”, who inspired these reflections on love and making love.
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