Warning: a long post!!
I have struggled with this idea for a bit and I suppose will continue to do. In seeking to make sense of Love, however, there seems to be some recurring thoughts. So, attempting – I suppose badly – to convey my current understanding on Love – as of today in May 2017:
It is so much easier to think about companionship, relationship or acquiring a husband or a wife, or a life partner as an end goal of Love than to think about the pursuit of Love for the sake of Love itself. I was to develop my second Vlog about this, but instead, think that writing isn’t a terrible medium!
The societal conjuring of the continual pursuit for the one true Love is something I have learned to let go of. The ‘English’ definition of Love, has been problematic because of its limitations – and it makes this post a little difficult to read maybe. It was this definition that I have grown up with, rather than other definitions that maybe much more welcoming. The Greeks had some interesting definitions – and although Bangla has its deeply rooted notions of Love, I am unable to unravel that just yet from its notions of ‘Shadona’, which is more about pursuing Love or Truth ( to be enlightened?) than that of the various ‘Sutras’, for example the Kama Sutra which explores the practical aspects of making Love with another or beyond ( perhaps much wiser souls will enlighten me on the journey! ) than the more restrictive ideas of ‘balobasha’.
So, going straight to it – for me, what I have experienced is often Love is seen as a weakness- a vulnerability, there is often a burden of being in Love – this is Shakespearian, its tragedy, it is often a deeply romantic ideas of longing and pursuits. So, it becomes something that can be easily manipulated. Sometimes, I think within the patriarchal structure – From experience I have seen men with their of perceptions of Love as a tool to possess and obsess. It links, for me, to a patriarchal definition of relationship, of ‘owning’ the person you may love, of systems where you would be giving ‘dowry’ to the woman, of being the provider. How does that relate back to me? It perhaps doesnt, but in some conversations with friends who have more traditional values, its difficult to exchange ideas.
Yet, how do I NOT take advantage of someone enamoured by me? It is so easy to do that, I realise to give in to someone else’s infatuation over me. I push against jumping into something quickly, and for that I am also naive, and oft punished for not responding. For people, it seems now to operate in a time constrained phenomena. More importantly, its the attraction and pursuit of Love rather than desire or lust that needs also to be found. It is this, that I have found difficult, to Love, but not to get entangled in a false promise of the relationship without getting to know someone fully- it creates for me the middle ground of a discourse about Love and emotions, and the inability to acknowledge its Power over us and how it manipulates. I am not, therefore saying Love is a bad thing, quite the opposite, however, I am acknowledging that my human trait, or perceptions of what Love is, is often misguided with a conjuring of how my society wants me to react to either pursuing or being pursued.
I have seen myself end up in jealous rages, I even wanted to possess forever, I end up obsessing endlessly, overanalysing maybe the details, how to do it better- and in those moments – it seems like it is lasting forever – and also, I realise some people desire that, or those negative emotions of possession and obsessions as a meaning of Love. At the same time, it is quite amazing the number of people that have wanted to change me, or also changed me (because I gave in – some people may be in shock reading that! (of course to make me a ‘better’ all round human being), or want to possess me, or want to describe needing me as a Love, or be jealous of what I do and who I see.
What has been a good lesson is learning to let go to Love and of Love, to understand the differences of being in Love versus Loving someone. To say it is ok to be vulnerable at that moment and in that time and to that soul and to myself. This too shall pass – this quote is oft said to me, and I say to others. This has been an unfathomable journey of course, and one that requires patience and time. Each Love experience has its journey – sometimes, yes – it can end up being lasting the lifetime of a couple. The stability and security one seeks in ‘Love’, always intrigues me. For me, Love is a Force. Can it be the ultimate ‘freedom’, I suppose so.. ?
Companionship, relationships, the life partner, can steady the ship – but Love is definitely the Force. Does that or is that interlinked with purpose or pursuits of Truth or Happiness?
So, how does that look in my life? a big mess?, a lot of experiments?, and not giving up? Unsatisfied or satisfied encounters? Is there a point to the pursuit of Love? not as a pursuit for a better option, but to acknowledge that yes – you can seek Love anywhere and find it, as long as you have it within you, in the first place!
How to explain that? Without using metaphors? It depends of course on your own perception. Here it shifts away from one kind of Love to another, even in description. For me, Love can be seen as the ultimate part of the pursuit of Truth, or expression of Truth through experiencing Love, in its entirety ( some sort of euphoric, uncontrollable emotion that can be released in actions or words ) or felt when encountering a mutual soul that shares values and ideas at an unconscious level. It needs to be separated and acknowledged in these different aspects of Love that we seek.
The key here, perhaps for me – taking an approach of the Artist, who is keen to understand and explore his world, his self, is how is that Love making him become more of a human being – across all the aspects of myself. That does not particularly relate to not making the same mistake of falling in Love again and again, but rather, what is it that Love continues to teach me? and how can I invest even more in Love, not in that individual, but the Love itself, and in that, is the thing that is of value. Does that mean I am not seeking a particular ‘type’ of person to Love? I do not think I am. I have Loved and Love a diverse range of people across ages. Yet, the pursuit of Truth, of Love, or of happiness, is a very different pursuit to the one often embedded in other ideas -of finding ‘stability’ ‘security’ and companionship, to find a mate to create a family.
so this continual desire to be vulnerable through Love – perhaps seems slightly part of a sadomasochists ritual. The ability to Love first and foremost, for me, has been to start with the self. In repeating many poets and philosophers (without reference or quotations ) is that you must fill your own soul full of love, to the point it can overspill- this is the Love that you can give freely, without expectation of a return. So the people that I Love and will have the capacity to love, could potentially be limitless. I must acknowledge the methods that I need to fill my soul with Love.
So – what does that really mean? within the society that I am clearly a part of, within communities that I exist in? and within the cultural upbringing that I have had?
A quick addendum: Having been raised in a quasi Bangla islamic family structure where my father had for a time been in a bigamous relationship – two women and for a period split his time between the two families – was am sure definitely something that made little sense to us as children. I never thought that I would end up thinking about the idea of polyamory in this manner.
Perhaps those are the underlying references for why I may believe its absolutely fine for us to have as many love or lovers as we desire, as so far as, it is honest. Where I begin to differ from my cultural traditions, is the need for it to be formally structured into a very simple heteronormative structure of The relationship. Does that make me into something quite radical? I don’t think so. Although I can accept that I probably cannot have multiple lovers whom I love with the same intensity. I can also, quite honestly say, when Love does happen – it happens and its journey, or time, tends to be focused on the one soul that I have fallen for. It is from the point of love that I would like to start the conversation of any potential relationship – whether it is friendship, of a sexual nature, or not.
What does that mean for me and its meaning? I can live with many cliches – I live a relatively intense life sometimes – so it genuinely takes time to filter things. So, in encounters, in romance and in Love too – I am naive. I don’t realise the emotions that am going through – so the potential filter or check that I would allow for my self to acknowledge things, is oft misplaced.
Having explored and separated sexual love, away from other loves, its been fascinating to think and explore then, what sexual Love is, and what it means to have relationships that may or may not be based upon sexual Love.
And of course, in other aspects – where it becomes blurred is the pursuit of Love as a thing inherent in itself – as a process or path to self-realisation, or the desire to pursue Truth. In this, it can become quite wishy washy – and I have done my best to separate the two. The pursuit of self-realisation, or ones True self, is, for me, a pursuit of Truth to realise your self as a human, as a being, as an individual and as a part of an eco-system of animals and nature, as a being within a political sphere, a cultural sphere and a social sphere – that is embedded in class, wealth, caste, race, religion, sexuality, etc etc.
My biggest admission, and perhaps a part of my naivety ( as highlighted by someone who may read this) – seems to be that I am unaware of the amazing things happening when in the moment – to not be ‘present’, despite being very aware of the activities going on, as Love develops. I allow people to take advantage of this nature of my approach to Love. And its absolutely fine, there is plenty of it in the bucket! Seeing that play out within myself a few times, I dare to question and challenge these particular ideas of Love.
The difficulty in acknowledging that others can love me ( am I loveable? ) is always a paradox – one is the vanity with which we wear our ego – OF COURSE he or she must love me! yet beyond that, how to unpack this idea that Love is quite possibly an emotion that is fleeting. And the other, is our insecurity – How can somebody love me? For me it has been a mix bag – I am relatively aware of my self and love who I am. Yet, my insecurities play directly into other peoples hand when I realise that they want more. Am I ready for such commitments? and at what cost? And, so, in these encounters and pursuits, what does it mean and what is the role of Love? I can say I have broken more hearts than I realise. Does this boost my ego? It saddens me, instead. I don’t really know how to fully explain that being able to Love, without wanting such strict returns, is a model of ‘relationship’ that everyone fully acknowledges. Yet, I do not desire everyone! So, in theory, it is fine!
For me, Love takes a while – I don’t know why. For some, it is instantaneous ( I wont pretend that I think they are full of poppycock! BUT it can and has happened. ) For all arguments sake of course, I can say right now, the individuals that I do love, know it. The journey to here, seems to have been OK (and the few that do know my journey well, will know that it is littered with fantastically fun, as well as excruciatingly annoying moments) I could imagine it have being much worse, somehow.
I will end here. I believe Love and life has blessed me in a miraculous way, of course, and I cannot express often in words, the joy that I feel when in Love. So, it is in these moment where my art is often a better communicator. I can go with the artists of the past, write poetry, or paint a portrait, or whatever. Sometimes, though, the actual words do need to be expressed – am getting better at doing that. The journey of pursuing Love continues. 😀
AND thank you for reading this far ( if you did! well done, and apologies for the ramble!, hope it was a little interesting! )
& just when, things fall in place
Things fall apart.
How high to jump, or if at all? Is there energy left? All these different cliches. Inspired by rejection, quite possibly, inspired by an insult.
When you become a mere cliche, a fragment of the past, is it possible to acknowledge the hurt? In moving forwards, I seem to sometimes talk in a cryptic form in the blog – attempting, badly to reveal. I end up expressing nothing of meaning. The dullness of reality. The energy, sapped. The inability to express what I want to say, again, and again.
The pursuit, the potential, the importance of the struggle. Cliches. Quotations. Life, currently, seems to be full of them. In not being ashamed, in bringing shame and in total defiance – to be a strong person- for what purpose? to what end? Words. Simple to express. Truth. Difficult to live by. & when hurt, hard to let go.
Reality, often seems elsewhere. Currently, my reality seems to ignite tensions that have no ways to be unwound. Accumulating tiredness. Is this a global phenomena – so easy to fall back on that – the ‘world’ is in a bad place.
I seem to have hit a stumbling block, & it’s the first time the block seems difficult to overcome. No idea what that means. Yet, I write it. I question whether its the beginning of something new? The cliches that I live my life by. The books that I read. The people that I look up to. The art that I make. Its irrelevance to reality. For what? For the pursuit of a Truth or is it The Truth, as I want to know it?. Sometimes, shocks me – my reservations, my inabilities, my lack of awareness. Total naivety. The continual desire it seems, to end up being vulnerable. Another cliche. The pursuit, or the potential to live through vulnerabilities, in being honest. What value does that really have?
How to be relevant? For a small moment in time? In fragments of someones imagination? in moments of my own life? In creating meaning, through action(s). In repeating the cliches. The cycle. In pursuing love, when it was never there in the first place. In words that manipulate, control, deceive. Tiredness awakens the defunct monster in me. No energy to shout or scream. Some taps on the keyboard. Another cliche. Hiding behind the screen..
In the insignificance of meaning to words that we attach our emotions to dearly. In the past few weeks, I have once again began the unravelling of meaning of love, family, friendship, relationship. It leaves me with just exhaustion. Its a simple excuse. A valid reason.
The cliches, continue. For how long?
This is my first personal video blog, and hoping this method might be more useful in the future as I think about how to improve it. My eyes dart around a bit, as I tried to work to a loose script ( I kept going off topic, when I tried to freestyle, ending with long meanders about nothing! ) VERY different media to writing, for sure, or drawing.
Where am I, now.
Gently. I am cutting the cord(s) of Love(s)
These are somewhat poetic musings, riddled, more than anything else – and it seems an accumulation on conversations I have had over the past few days with friends, family, lover(s), colleagues and strangers (who have become friends).
Emancipation is a strong word – it seems I continually seek it, yet never fully embrace it. How bizarre – why choose a masochistic approach? I am often the sadist. My inability to emancipate from religion ( I still have prayer beads in my daily possession ), from cultural traditions ( I am continually embedded back in to family politics ), from unwanted labels that are attached to me, it never seems enough. Embroiled and enamoured, to continually fight against the torrents. Yet, to cut free, in an amusing way, would be reckless. How strange the mind works. To throw my self, into work and art – into becoming ‘independent’, into love, seems tough. Why? What does it mean to ‘be’ ‘free’?
Frantically I seek meaning in the cords that I already have – the labels that are attached to me – the strings that perpetuate my being. It is frantic. It is in discord. It is troubling. It is dramatic. It is real. Yet, these cords keep me afloat, keep me alive. The currents of love, however, seem to pull in ways that propel me to behave somewhat ‘irrationally’.
To start with. BEING, the identity or label has to BE HUMAN – and that must be enough, always – for me. To humanise every aspect of myself – from my homosexuality to my race, class, my religiousness or lack of, my politics, my size, my sex, my masculinity, or my effeminateness – To label myself just that – Human – I have spent a lot of time deconstructing my various selves. I see a problem with continual discord. Yet – for now, am content to love being.
My drawings (random selection below) often are working and reworking of ideas – of perceptions and ways of seeing – it is not clever or innovative – it is true. It just is. Fragmentary, of time and place. Of the self, of objects, of places, of people that I encounter.
My writing, as you are reading – you are able to understand – are often an outpouring of a concentrated series of thought(s).
To Love. Here, I am pondering.. What I have learned in this revisit, to love for me is about trust, vulnerability and emotional honesty – I seek it in my practice of everyday life: However unsuccessfully. I observe and experience it- in my platonic friends, I seek and give it in family, I seek it in my lover(s), in my work and actions, and I return it in abundance OR at the least try, I embrace its role in creating nature, in shaping ideas, in nurturing the soul – it does not mean that I roam around always immersed in it – far from it. Its much easier to receive, to accumulate, and I have learned to continue to give – to expedite Love – not as commodity (as it does not come with a price tag, and is not finite) is a continual process. Karmic. To Love, therefore has a profound meaning for me. To love, is an action that is not muddled in religious consciousness, as duty- in cultural attachments as symbols (or trophies) – or spiritual mysticism, -found in ecstasy, or for me – entangled and riddled with familial guilt. To love, is to be – and to practice such an act, requires for me – an interaction with that part of me that is quietly emboldened by life and its experiences.
WHAT AM I LEARNING?
To acknowledge certain emotions – not at the sake of others. To listen, in order to understand, not to respond and react. To engage again with an aspect of the self that I realise requires continual work. To cut the cord(s) of love(s) in this instance then, is about being ok with the vulnerabilities that love brings with it. It requires a certain working mind – one that is open and honest. Being honest – is tough. Yet, tolerance is a word that I have used over the past few weeks – my conversations have forced a certain way of thinking and being again. How to be tolerant of myself? my thoughts? my ideas? my fantasies? my fears? my emotions (including confronting my own anger, in this instance – something I had seldom seen..)
Is it possible through an embracing of love? To not sexualise or eroticise it, or singularise it – to not be related to one entity – but to to love in its entirety or in its capacity to be more— to not be entangled in obsessive lust, insecurities, in guilt, in over-indulged fantasies or fear.
Of course – articulating my thoughts on the blog are not the same, and perhaps hide my inability to act as well as I would like. The fears and realities will continue to limit me – yet, I try to challenge in my own way. Quite possible that I intellectualise this idea of love too. That is ok. Posibly, learning to accept flaws in me, makes it easier to accept also the flaws in the human being. To love, easily, would be tough. In the constant battle, then, to cut the cord(s) of love(s), I seek to continually emancipate myself from my riddled pasts, in order so that love can emancipate me.
One of the instructions I sometimes bellow at my haphazard sitter is to look at me. I am often interested in their eyes. I woke this morning reflecting on this particular phenomena and it dawns on me that I haven’t fully engaged with this much in writing. I do it, because its all in the eyes. I am told it is, I feel it, I intuitively want to see the eyes. Its something that draws me. And what is it that I see in the eyes? and what is it that is reflected in the drawing? These are questions that I know this post is not adequate enough to answer – it boils it back down to the very purpose of art and the need to create and make marks on paper that reflect a particular idea to me. Or perhaps, expresses a particular emotion. Yet, those seem to be crude summations at times of a much more complex phenomena that occurs. Complex, or simple as I make it out to be. I was inspired by Marina Abramovic’s project of letting people come look at her in the eyes for as long or short as they wanted. Reducing it down to a nakedness that even if fully clothed, you cannot hide.
I understand, perhaps now, that when I do have the chance to look someone in the eyes, all I often see is a reflection, of me. In drawing myself over the last couple of months, I have become more comfortable with myself – looking myself in the mirror, in my own eyes has been a tough. Looking at other people though, has been tough still. This translates also to my sitters at times, what unnerves me is not their nervousness, but my own. In daring to look someone in the eye – I connect with my own human-ness, my own frail lack of ability to do more than is humanly possible and to question the very purpose of my art. My own fears emerge, my own inabilities to do nothing more than observe, engage. My own inability to help or assist beyond a certain level. What I realise is that I am human too – in both negative and positive aspects.
It’s important to reflect on this, because of some of the people I have been drawing, and also because of drawing myself. The more I look, the more I seem to be not afraid of the potential emotions that may emerge. I suppose it is a process that can be painfully empowering. I cannot project or judge my emotions until I look, until I encounter it. An emotive call to action maybe necessary at some point. In better understanding the environments of vulnerability and human life, or in Agambens’ acknowledgement of a ‘bare life’, beyond the jurisdiction of state and still away from the empathy of the fellow human being. In the process of developing the art, in building human relationships, in questioning the self, I am left with scrawls and marks on paper, that may or may not explain anything.
So, what is it that I am trying to say here? That looking someone in the eye means we are willing to look at ourselves? There is less scope for judgement, for misunderstandings and potentially conflict, if looking is done at the point of honestness. This honestness is to acknowledge my fears which are reflected back to me, and my own mechanism has often been to not look. To not engage. Yet, why reveal myself in such an intimate way to perhaps a relatively unknown stranger? Maybe its refreshing to see myself in a strangers eyes, there is some comfort in drawing that gaze of bewilderment, of fear, of potential love and the potential to not be judged. It means also, that I am not judging myself – not brandishing my actions, not giving in to my ego. It stays honest, I hope. It is not a social project, and at the time of drawing, it is not a project at all but rather an intimate process which does not always reflect anything but a moment in time captured through marks on paper.
In these self portraits that I do, I seek to draw out my desire to be honest to myself. To not escape into abstraction, if I can help it, yet to abstract the very essence of that moment, if possible. The challenge comes to one of time, how long before I acknowledge or understand that I have captured what I want to capture in the drawing? I resort to intuition, or some rules of thumb- depending on the media. So maybe a few hours of intense looking is all that I can muster before becoming fatigued. I continually contradict myself, it seems – and although its healthy to counter balance my own assumptions, I question the very purpose of art, again and again – where I suppose the real question is, the purpose of life itself, how is that I came to be, do and think? and in this particular process that digs at my inability to be able to look honestly at all times. The facades we create are difficult to remove as time moves on. Perhaps now, I am beginning to get comfortable in hiding behind the art as well?
On a side note: the concept of letting go.
To let go. To what? To life, maybe. The struggle I took upon myself was to control my ego, to not let it control my soul. The suffering to overcome was one of the desire to cling to an idea, object or a person – to let Truth or Love dictate the path, however challenging it may seem to be. It perhaps is the ultimate challenge.
The cycle of the creative process starts and ends is crude, yet relatively true. Yes, the environment and experiences continually change and shape our thoughts – it requires the ability to be willing to experience and accept these changes of thoughts too. It also, happens that the artist in me is able to express a moment or idea in time and space. The constant remaining idea is one of change. So, the experiment here was to draw. and then destroy. and all that remains is a photo-image, and an idea. The challenge being to fight the ego, to not preserve this as The Truth, but simply one idea of it. It re-ignites my passion to fully immerse in life. My perception of myself changes with my continual introspection, my ability to draw and make art changes too, as I gain experiences and push the boundaries that exist within my life. However difficult it may seem to let go, it is still possible. Trust and letting go to Love is all that I can do. And, I realise that is enough, despite the Ego wanting so much more.
It seems a bit far-fetched to think to about reflecting on relationships, especially as I have only lived 30 years of it so far. Yet, it is plausible that the experiences we have can and does shape the way we think, behave and react to the world around us. Today, I sat at the station, and was drawing again, some of the usual people that I draw, and then a young mother with her new born child was about, I was somehow able to ask her to sit for a while with her child for me. here is a link to the drawing:
More importantly though, the past few weeks – my relationships have been tested. The idea of friendship, family, love, siblings, mentors, colleagues, partners etc. It seems I was somehow lumped into a space filled with the potential of all the relations becoming quite volatile and all happening at the same time. It made no sense – had I attracted somehow this negative charge of emotions and an eruption of despair appeared? Maybe. I look deep within me, as I reflect now on today’s drawings – the most interesting of which, was the mother and child. I stop to appreciate again the very ability to have debates, discussions and arguments with those that I care about, even have giant differences with. The ability to love, and appreciate spending quality time with people that I care about. We never know really what will happen tomorrow, so cherishing today is important, as much as forward planning is. I have never been fantastic at forward planning – I do a lot of it though it seems. However, when the world turns upside down, and all these dynamic relations seem to have become charged, I realise that there is little I can do, other than be true to myself.
Love comes in quite a few guises, recognising them all takes time – and will continue to take time. Yet, conversations regarding emotions and feelings have been the theme of my last few weeks with friends and family. Quite possibly, a re-routing of the soul, or perhaps a liberating set of actions have been put in place. It is too early to tell, unwittingly, I am again exactly where I felt I wanted to be last, in the comfort of Dhaka. In familiar, chaotic sounds and spaces.
In the challenges that have been faced, I recognise one thing, that my willingness to hit the self-destruct button – OR, to put it more bluntly, put up a wall against any further emotional conversations (or potential damage) has not been activated – it came close a few times. A passive aggressive trait possibly I picked up being in a relatively conservatively dysfunctional south asian family. I recognise better now when there is attempts to throw in the mix emotional blackmail, guilt tripping the self, and more importantly, to jeopardise the souls potential growth by giving in to these quite horrible activities. In the moments of sitting and drawing today, I realised that, some friends are right, that this too will pass. A new mantra that I have been able to pick up from a good friend – be grateful, be kind, be mindful – seems to do the trick a bit..
I sat, in awe of this young mother and her child, quite in my own head unable to process what it genuinely means to bring up a baby in the world in this environment. How scary it really must be. And what the fuck can a young mother, barely a child herself can do about it. I cannot ever understand really the nature of the mother in this instance – I can only reflect on my own chaotic relationship with my own mother, her struggles to bring us up as good human beings, and her sacrifices that she perhaps didnt have a choice to make at the time. I was accused of not caring enough many a times in my last trip to London, from friends and family. I perhaps don’t know how to express that care in a tangible manner – for that, I know a blog post is never enough. It seems words are meaningless and empty at times. The labels we carry – the son that left the house, the friend that doesnt care, the sibling that is neglectful, leave marks, one stroke at a time. I can’t possibly express in words ( as ironic as it sounds ) what it is to feel all those emotions of rejection all at the same time.
What would I want to feel? I imagine as all human beings – to be wanted, to be loved and to be cared for and to be able to do the same for others. I get it in abundance from my friends and family, so I dare not even think about complaining OR comparing.
Yet, here I am contemplating and reflecting on ideas of extreme unfairness, that a young mother is forced to bring up a child in a public environment, with little to no social protection, health care or support – with potentially little hope of a future for her child… I generalise. It brings forward dilemmas for my soul, in the directions to push.. The role for the artist seems quite twisted. I am not here to write a fundraising application to develop a social protection programme for those at extreme risk – yet, I can question, why isn’t that happening? Why aren’t those at extreme risks being cared for by the giant number of organisations that seem to expend huge amounts of aid money to do good – and what is i that I would want them to do? and who am I to demand such a thing in the first place? another do-gooder from abroad attempting to impose an idea about something or other, ultimately to fail and disappear back to where I have come from – licking my wounds.
My education, my social status, my gender, my passport – all play a giant role in my perceptions and experiences of the world and especially, in the small cosmos of the communities that I have interacted with in Bangladesh. This check balance is difficult to maintain and I struggle with it in my own way. My ability to articulate an idea, my inability to sometimes recognise my blindspots, or empathise, and more importantly to connect at the right time, means there is potential for uncomfortable encounters too. What can I do about that? I can do my best to be true as possible to myself and continue being reflexive in my work and personal life. Nothing more, nothing less. As I said to a young cousin a few months back when he questioned about my purpose in life – my answer was that it is to do good honest work – and we have been, on the whole, doing some wonderful things in our own way.
Its difficult to summarise, yet I will try. Relationships on the whole are extremely dynamic and requires energy from all parties to work. When walls are set up, often they are difficult to take down – especially from my own experiences with people in my own relatively short past. I have put up plenty of walls in the past, although there maybe little appetite to take those ones down – I don’t want to continue putting up walls in my soul ( How ironic, considering I co-run an architectural practice). I am learning to accept that being vulnerable is not a sign of weakness, and being honest to yourself is important, and a lot of the times, things happen that are beyond your control, and thats OK too. I do what I can. This too will pass.