Groucho Love

Second in a shamelessly honest series on Love.


So what is worse than being told “I don’t love you and I never will?” Perhaps knowing you should say it to someone else.

A zillion years ago I sat on a couch looking out a window onto a perfect, crystal clear lake below with sincere tears on my cheeks. The tears were misinterpreted as oh-I-love-you-so-much tears. Actually, they were, dang-this-ain’t-it tears. I mean, I loved him enough to cry about not loving him enough. I think of this as Groucho love.

I’ve had conversations long into the night about when a person knows she’s truly in love or when a person realizes he isn’t in love anymore. I’ve had many of them, actually, and I still don’t really have a clue what makes it so other than timing.

Carl Rogers would probably say you just have to create the right conditions and put yourself out there and it will happen. Glasser would say you simply choose to love someone. Freud would say. . . well, he’d probably mumble something about cigars, I’m not sure. My point is, knowing what the famous shrinks say about love doesn’t actually help all that much.

However, that great philosopher, Groucho Marx put it succinctly when he said, “I’d never want to belong to an organization that would have me as a member.” Anyone who would love me is unlovable. Strange belief, isn’t it? Yet it’s a pretty common one.

Sometimes we just get love confused with the chase. Once a person is caught, the chase is over. It’s confusing love with infatuation, I think. Don’t get me wrong, Children, infatuation is mmm, mmm, good and the chase is exercise. Maybe it’s the sort of exercise that’s training for the real thing.

Or maybe it’s just a way for me feel so good and noble and important through pure fertilizer. “Oh, it just killed me to have to break his heart, blah, blah, sniff, sniff.”

If there is such a thing as a real thing, it surely isn’t Groucho love. It’s a journey, not a destination.

Letter to God

Dear God,

I'm contacting You because even now, at the ripe old nearly perfect age of 55, I still have more than a few questions for You.

First of all, let me say that I've figured out that You aren't some white-haired old man who has nothing better to do than keep scores for everyone.  I don't have you confused with Santa Claus and I do not live to collect a grand reward or avoid a horrible punishment.  I know You well enough to know that my mind, wondrous though it is, can't get around You.  I know I am part of You. I must be since You, the Universe, is all there is.

And I want to say while I've got Your attention, that You have done a great job on making the Earth and the sky.  There are so many things that I never would have thought of.  And I keep discovering new bits that make life so worth living.  Thanks for all that.  Seriously.  Thank You.

I don't know if You have a grand plan or what.  I reckon it doesn't much matter if I understand it all.  I'll leave it to You.  And far be it from me to suggest anything to One who brought us the hummingbird, sunsets that take my breath away, geodes and orgasms.  But I've got to say, I've got more than a few questions.

What's up with religions?  Sure they start out with good intentions, but sheesh!  You'd think that people would give up when they started noticing they are hurting, killing and destroying in the name of religion. 

And what's the deal with bigotry, greed and hatred?  Do I just happen to be here while we're in the midst of evolving out of those useless behaviors?  Does every generation have the same questions or are we really screwing the whole gig up now?

And God, I don't know what to think about time and space.  Cool concepts, I've got to say.  I suspect all those genius scientists who explain them are just guessing.. 
I do hope that when that thing happens we call death, I'll somehow get to hear the answers to these and the 8 gazillion other questions I have.  Maybe death will be just blank nothingness as some of my friends think.  Personally, I think there's about as much chance of that as there is a town with streets paved with gold where only "good" people go, as some of my other friends think.   I guess I'll try not to worry about it one way or the other.  Another thing I'll leave to You.

I'm not sure, God, who or what You are.  But I think that's sort of the nature of You.  If I could describe you in neat words, then I'd probably start a religion and we all know where that would lead.  So for now, let's just leave it this way.  The bit I know is way beyond me, that I am part of and is part of me, is You.  Let me know if that's not OK with You.

And as I said before, Thanks.

Yours Truly,
Fay