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  • An eighty some – year – old lady tells me about her love affairs. Back then in a glamorous Mexico. The Mexico of Frida Kahlo and Diego Rivera.

    She describes me a love that began in an opera house in Washington. A love shared with an Arab prince. A very rich Prince, she stresses and I am impressed, because she is, she says, a convinced and fierce communist. A love that was impossible to live back then, being a married woman, a love that belongs into an Angeles Mastretta – Novel, but is engraved today probably just in her brain, because the others involved have long perished. A love that now also I know and can dream and invent a story about.

    How many love affairs does a human – being experience throughout a lifetime? How many human – beings are on this planet right now? 7 or already 8 billion? How many human – beings have ever lived? How many love – stories does that make?????? How many billions?

    Love unspoken, love kept as a secret in the heart, for too long, love feared, love expressed, love consumed, love that has died in a blast or maybe very slowly over a long time, love that was just dreamt about during long and lonely nights, love that changed one forever, love that broke the heart….Is there a love that does not break the heart be it sooner or later? Love that opens the heart and makes it more compassionate…

    Sweet love, spicy love, bitter love…

    I am sure reading these descriptions you are thinking of romantic love.

    Why do we put LOVE into that one cage mostly?

    Because we are lusty beings? Because we are beings greedy for power?

    Why do we love to fantasize about the impossible love for the super – rich Arab prince and do hardly ever consider loving the toothless beggar out in front of our building?

    When I was young Otto Mühl – communities were popular among us: in these a bunch of men and women lived together in a house or apartment, everyone dressed in a workers´ overall. Everybody was supposed to have sex with everyone else in the group. If you declined another you were put to intense therapy, deeply questioned: If you want to love mankind, why can´t you (also physically) love your comrade here in the group?

    I did not want to submit to that, but the question keeps working inside me.

    Aside from romantic love there are – also here on Cowbird – many stories about loving children or pets, sometimes plants, a forest, a flower.

    Could we maybe experience love – affairs out of the box? Not just a moment of love for that tree in front of my window, but an ongoing relationship: with my ninety – year – old neighbor, the woman, who sells me my bread or cheese, a kid, who is not mine, a weed flowering out of the crevice in an ancient wall of some fallen – down house, an ant, a fly, a cockroach?

    Why do we mostly make prisons out of our hearts?

    If they break sooner or later anyways, why don´t we include so many others and other forms of life and even what we consider lifeless matter?

    I remember Osho saying that we could express gratitude towards a chair, a table or a door and who knows what could happen and change, if we really did from the bottoms of our hearts?

    We all fear love, because deep down we know that we can never HAVE it, own it, just as it happens with life: it is given to us, showered upon us and then, often when we least expect it, taken away. Out of this fear we do not open our hearts as wide as we can.

    We also know that nothing makes us as happy as all forms of love do.

    Really: what do we have to lose?

    Art by Kiki
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