It is five in the afternoon in Salt Lake City. It has been a hard day. I sent a letter of apology to someone I really loved. It was sent as an attachment with a short note. He read the note but forgot to look at the attachment.
He sent me back a deeply cruel letter?at least that was my experience of the letter. That was its impact on me even if that was not his intention. In the letter he said, “Why did you not write me a letter of apology?” It was then I realized he had not read the attachment.
I was angry and insulted as he was insulted. I wrote him back and said, “Open the fucking attachment.” I had waited two years to write him this letter and now that I wrote it he does not open it. I did not hear back from him. Perhaps I never will.
It is to this man that I dedicate this essay, written with one of my closest friends.
I have written before of the beauty of Eros and how the sexual models the greater movment of Eros in our lives. We have written of the opening that sex can be in teaching us to understand Eros, to live from her full and passionate source. But there is another side of Eros. In this aspect, Eros shows itself to be a more ferocious ally. While the sexual does model the erotic in all kinds of pleasurable ways, it also models the pain of Eros that inevitably comes from our loving.
Sexuality leaves so many mortally wounded in her wake. So much pain from that which is supposed to be the source of so much pleasure. We are confused about sexuality. And that confusion is the source of much of our pain.
Sufi poet Hafiz writes:
- “Love is grabbing hold of the Great Lion’s mane
And wrestling and rolling deep into Existence
While the Beloved gets rough
And begins to maul you alive.”
There was a time when I believed that there was a way out of the pain of Eros. Some people may believe that I didn’t try hard enough; others are correct in ascertaining that I didn’t succeed. But I can tell you that I believed in a version of love that is fullfilled through commitment, through loving gestures, and clearly stated intentions. I believed in love that was passionate and wild even as it was broad, inclusive, and forgiving.
I thought that the dilemmas that Love presented to me would be solvable if I were earnest enough, authentic enough, and learned how to honestly communicate the truth of who I was and what I could offer. But this ethic of sincerity could not hold. There was a quiet untruth in this approach?not only because I lied to others, but because I lied to myself that if I got it right, I would not have to feel the pain in loving. My approach didn’t take into account the ruthless side of Eros?the aspect of Eros that does not let us cut this kind of a deal. The face of Eros is wildly uncompromising and insists that we live a fully embodied life. One that includes pain, loss, confusion and bewilderment. Eros is fierce and unrelenting. It won’t be captured, cajoled, or lulled to the realm of the comfortable, particularly when it is the ego trying to settle into an untrue version of Love.
