The curable ache of not loving.

Wake-Up Call #26

I’m prepping for an interview, watching video, and happen to notice the guest has three French words tattooed on her left inner arm.

Curious, do a bit of digging.

They’re the final three words in a sentence from Albert Camus’ lyrical essay, Return to Tipasa, that appeared in the book, Summer, published in 1954.

English translation, “an invincible summer.”

The full sentence reads:

In the midst of winter, I found there was, within me, an invincible summer.

Yummy. And, hopeful.

The notion that we are not just recipients of the warm glow of possibility, but also, even when its hard, the source.

Still, I want to know more.

I look for a translation of the full text.

Dive in.

There, seated comfortably a few sentences above the oft-cited summer quote, 16 words stop me in my tracks.

“For there is merely bad luck in not being loved; there is misfortune in not loving.”

Ooph.

We spend so much of our lives seeking to be seen. To be known. To be loved.

When it happens, it’s magical. The world coalesces into something akin to what it should be. Breath, joy, ecstasy, ease all come easier.

When it doesn’t happen, the ache builds ‘til is almost too much to bear.

For all the talk about self-love (yes, of course, it matters), it’s another thing entirely to be loved by another. Not romantic love. Just, love.

Still, central to the experience of being loved, is being exposed.

Laying bear your essence. Naked and vulnerable. At least, enough to risk being seen, wanted, savored, craved…rejected, abandoned, left. It’s a dangerous business that beckons the potential for a more beautiful, albeit less safe life.

We never quite have control over the experience, because we never have control over the other. All we can do is show up as ourselves. Whether and when another finds and, in turn, loves us, is never fully (some might argue, even, remotely) within our control.

It’s supposed to be this way. Gloriously so.

Which is why, as Camus said, “there is merely bad luck in not being loved….”

But, that latter part—there is misfortune in not loving.

Maybe this is where both the bigger tragedy, and the greater opportunity lie.

This is the side of the loving equation where agency takes its seat.

We need not wait around, hoping to be seen or embraced as a precondition to offering our love.

Possibilities abound.

A hug.

A smile.

A kind act.

A simple text.

A note on the screen.

A rub on the back.

A word of praise.

A passing hug.

A gentle nod.

And, the universe of recipients...

A lover, child, or friend, sure.

But also…

A pup.

A bed of flowers.

A stranger on line.

A customer or diner.

A random tree.

A student.

Any. One.

We’re often so caught up in the quest to be loved, we forget the life-giving grace of giving love. The feeling of knowing we’ve made even a momentary difference.

While we may not always have a say in when and where we’ll be loved, we can avoid the misfortune of not loving.

And, that’s what’s on my mind today.

With a whole lotta love & gratitude,

Jonathan

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Wake-Up Call #26

As you read this, you may or may not feel loved.

If you feel it, how fortunate. Savor it. Drink it in.

If not, do the thing you still can do.

Become love. Give love. One simple gesture.

Ask, “what can I do today?”

And, “who can I offer love to?”

The simplest nod counts.

Noodle on it. Walk with it. Journal about it. Then, act upon it.

And, as always, if you’re inclined, share your thoughts and experience in the comments.