For Tony

From Sept 07, 2015 – On the plane, from Philadelphia to Australia (via LA)

I have had experiences of my heart being a tricky organ, a shifty character, a bottomless pit of feeling, of me telling it to pack it’s bags and get the hell out of here!! But the new thing I discovered yesterday, was the feeling that grief and love are the same, or perhaps two sides of the same coin. Expansive and raw. Simultaneously, the best and the worst at the very same time. Absolutely no escape from the present moment and not wanting to escape. Feeling, weirdly, fully alive juxtaposed by a neutral feeling of peace.

My brother talked of some of the different kinds of love he has experienced in his lifetime when I was l with him, last year…

The love for his first wife, Kerry — That young love. The mother of their girls. To have made brand new humans with someone and raise them, for a time, together. She is the reason he has a family! To watch her love those spectacular girls… To love them together…

The love he has for his girls — The love of a father. He said “It’s hard to describe how much I love them. I’m so proud of them, it’s embarrassing!”

The love for his new wife, Fay — The best possible person for this journey, this stage of my life. My ‘Best mate’.

His love for me —

He squirms adorably as he tries to dig for impossible words that clumsily describe his immense feelings of love. As if by moving his body awkwardly, unconsciously: one shoulder lifts, his face scrunches, his left cheek dives toward his heart, torso twists a little. It’s not just emotional, it’s physical… Primal, preverbal…

He talked about how these ‘kinds’ of love, although different, there was no hierarchy, No one ‘kind’ is better than the other. They are all equally amazing.

Perhaps jealousy is borne from the false assumption that there is some love that is ‘better’ than other love. We want the ‘kind’ of love that someone else has…

Like it is some sort of commodity. We’re funny that way, us humans. The immaturity of wanting to be loved in specific ways, otherwise we will be unsatisfied.
IMG_3313
I think looking deeply into the different kinds of love is NOT the answer to our woes, but perhaps just accepting what is freely given, loving your people honestly. “Embarrassing yourself” as you squirm and try to express the gratitude for the opportunity to love someone. Perhaps THAT’S what makes us squirm — the gratitude. The humbling experience of being honest, expansive, raw. To be up to the sheer magnitude of someone deserving of love. The fear of being all they see in you. The pressure of being someone loveable, all the time…

I love you, Tony