Love is physiologic. Because the body and mind are a unit, bound together via messenger molecules. The blushing, the butterflies in the stomach, the knees turning jelly, are undeniable proof. Primarily, everything is a mental event, and then messages are transmitted though the heart — believed to be the seat of all emotions.
I believe that love only becomes spiritual when there’s a true commitment involved; when one is willing to deny himself for the welfare of someone he loves; when eternity doesn’t become scary, but something to be excited about; when reason starts to defy understanding.
Well, this is somewhat complicated. Love per se. That’s why we sometimes refuse to admit that we’re in love because we always fear the things that we don’t understand.
But is love really something to be understood? As for me I tried it so many times — dissecting it, analyzing it. I didn’t end up to be a love expert, though. I only got close to wanting to enter hermitage.
“When you live in your heart, magic happens.” I read this somewhere and it instantly brought me to my younger days when falling in love brought me to a fairytale land, and love was a magic want that made everything possible.
I want to live in my heart again. I want to experience love both physiologic and spiritual. I have to work my way back to that fairytale land, work my way back to being a happy person — thinking less, loving more.
If I cannot do that soon, I might as well order myself a coffin.