Need, grief and love.



Much is written about love and the needlessness of need ~ Osho says if one loves another, then the state of love itself should suffice, as if anything more will never fulfil that need. To be content as self will breath air into the contentment of us. Two are one, even though we may be 10000 miles apart, or even in death.

Grief is like a gaping hole in one’s chest. In just continuing to breath, cold air stings at fleshy, frayed nerve endings. For some time, it feels like there’s no escape, no matter which direction one turns. There’s an overwhelming urge to fill the hole and stop the pain. I know this feeling very well, this painful void…the thought of love on hold, loved ones lost. I know it when I think of nature lost to human indifference, ignorance and greed. I want to stop the pain.

But one foot in front of another, a direction I must find. By meaningfully doing, by giving myself to the problem and to the solutions, I can live with the difficulty. There’s much to do. And one day, I’ll notice the air will be warmer and the sting will dwindle. Time will have poured in to the void, at a pace and a rhythm unique to me.

Perhaps, I’ll never fully heal. But with love, the pain does not matter so much. When one truly loves, it is a compulsion to give, no matter how much pain one suffers. It is a wish to give to the other by encouraging a full and deserving life through time, in purposeful direction and at a unique pace. Their aloneness is the unity of us.

If I find love, pure, and recognise it as so, I am compelled to stand guard, protecting the other’s aloneness ~ the other being the one I love, the nature I love. We now flow together, like two rivers at a perpetual confluence. Alone yet in unity.

The need to be needed is a powerful force. And it is a force for good, if channeled well. Nature is in desperate need of all of us. If a generous heart is put in a little box and the lid closed, then the risk runs real that this heart may begin to die. There are many hearts boxed in, and by many means.

Love, no matter what state of interplay is, first and foremost, a doing word. There’s much to do. Box it in and hearts will wither. If I am boxed in, I know I will need to fight my way out. 10000 miles apart, or even in death, this is a need I will not surrender.

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