Love’s Philosophy

Titania

Sir Joseph Noel Paton, The Reconciliation of Oberon and Titania

The fountains mingle with the river
And the rivers with the Ocean,
The winds of Heaven mix for ever
With a sweet emotion;
Nothing in the world is single;
All things by a law divine
in one spirit meet and mingle.
Why not I with thine?-

See the mountains kiss high Heaven
And the waves clasp one another;
No sister-flower would be forgiven
If it disdained its brother;
And the sunlight clasps the earth
And the moonbeams kiss the sea:
What are all these kissings worth
If thou kiss not me?

Percy Bysshe Shelley

Percy Bysshe Shelley (1803-1822), whose literary career was marked with controversy due to his views on religion, atheism, socialism, and free love, is known as a talented lyrical poet and one of the major figures of English romanticism. “Love’s Philosophy” is a poem, written in 1820. Shelley believes in the power of art to transform society in a positive way. In his essay “A Defence of Poetry”, he writes: “The great instrument of moral good is the imagination; and poetry administers to the effect by acting upon the cause. Poetry enlarges the circumference of the imagination by replenishing it with thoughts of ever new delight, which have the power of attracting and assimilating to their own nature all other thoughts, and which form new intervals and interstices whose void forever craves fresh food. Poetry strengthens the faculty which is the organ of the moral nature of man, in the same manner as exercise strengthens a limb.”

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Sentiments Are Not Stones, They Are Like Rose Flowers

goodward

John William Godward, Dolce far niente, 1906

 

“There are three layers of the human individual: his physiology, the body; his psychology, the mind; and his being, his eternal self. Love can exist on all the three planes, but its qualities will be different. On the plane of physiology, body, it is simply sexuality. You can call it love, because the word love seems to be poetic, beautiful. But ninety-nine percent of people are calling their sex, love. Sex is biological, physiological. Your chemistry, your hormones – everything material is involved in it…”
“Only one percent of people know a little bit deeper. Poets, painters, musicians, dancers, singers have a sensitivity that they can feel beyond the body. They can feel the beauties of the mind, the sensitivities of the heart, because they live on that plane themselves. But a musician, a painter, a poet, lives on a different plane. He does not think, he feels. And because he lives in his heart, he can feel the other person’s heart. That is ordinarily called love. It is rare. I am saying only one percent perhaps, once in a while.”
“Why are many people not moving to the second plane because it is tremendously beautiful? But there is a problem: anything very beautiful is also very delicate. It is not hardware, it is made of very fragile glass. And once a mirror has fallen and broken, then there is no way to put it together. People are afraid to get so much involved that they reach to the delicate layers of love, because at that stage love is tremendously beautiful but also tremendously changing. Sentiments are not stones, they are like rose flowers…”
“Poets are known, artists are known to fall in love almost every day. Their love is like a rose flower. While it is there it is so fragrant, so alive, dancing in the wind, in the rain, in the sun, asserting its beauty. But by the evening it may be gone, and you cannot do anything to prevent it. The deeper love of the heart is just like a breeze that comes into your room, brings its freshness, coolness, and then it is gone. You cannot catch hold of the wind in your fist. Very few people are so courageous as to live with a moment-to-moment, changing life. Hence, they have decided to fall into a love on which they can depend.”
“I don’t know which kind of love you know – most probably the first kind, perhaps, the second kind. And you are afraid that if you reach your being, what will happen to your love? Certainly it will be gone – but you will not be a loser. A new kind of love will arise which arises only perhaps to one person in millions. That love can only be called lovingness.”
Osho, Talk  #17

The Love Principle. The Force Of Mind. The Energy Of Prana

It will be apparent to you consequently that it is only at this time that we can begin to look for a wider and more general expression in the world today of the processes of telepathy, for only today is the love principle really beginning to affect the world on a large scale. Love of a cause, a party or an idea is becoming more and more prevalent, producing in the initial stages the apparently wide cleavages with are so familiar and by which we are so distressed at this time, yet producing finally a dominance of the attitudes of love which will heal breaches, and produce synthesis among the peoples. Love (not sentiment) is the clue to successful telepathic work. Therefore love one another with a fresh enthusiasm and devotion; seek to express that love in every possible way – upon the physical plane, upon the levels of emotion, and through right thought. Let the love of the soul sweep through all like a regenerating force.

The force of mind. This is the illuminating energy which “lights the way” of an idea or form to be transmitted and received. Forget not that light is subtle substance. Upon a beam of light can the energy of the mind materialize. This is one of the most important statements made in connection with the science of telepathy. The success of this is dependent upon the alignment of the bodies of the transmitter and the recipient. The double line of contact must be that of mental energy and brain electrical energy. The magnetic power of love to attract attention, to produce alignment, and to call forth rapport and understanding is not all that is necessary in the new telepathy which will distinguish the new age. There must also be mental development and mental control.

The energy of prana, or the etheric force of the vital body. This energy, by an act of the will and under the pressure of the magnetic power of love, responds to or is receptive to the dual energies mentioned above. The idea, thought-form. or mental impression which must be recorded in the brain consciousness of the recipient opens a way in the pranic fluids and so controls their activity (which is as ceaseless as the thought-form-making propensities of the chitta) that the brain becomes responsive.

Alice Bailey & Djwhal Khul, Telepathy and the Etheric Vehicle

Jules Louis MACHARD, Selene, 1879

Jules Louis MACHARD, Selene, 1879

The Healing Process

The healing process is about drastically expanding our perception of the universe from our usual selfish, ego-centered and narrow-minded standpoints. Our perception may change forever if we get even one glimpse of that underlying, all pervading reality and discover that happiness is already here in abundance.

That source has always been beyond measurements and any scientific experiments, however sophisticated one. When Love is associated with Spirit, it has nothing to do with relationships with others, because Love sees no ‘others’. Love sees the whole world as ‘myself’.

Loving oneself is not selfish because love can never be a possession. True love can only be received and given freely. When we love our self, this love simply radiates out through our being. Whatever we do, will be permeated with love; whoever we meet, will feel and be touched by this love. Love is the fragrance of oneness and wholeness. Love is the only thing that can heal. The biggest enemy of love is not hate, its opposite, but fear. Fear resides in the unconscious and our animal nature. Only love can illumine the darkest corners of our soul with joy.

Wright Barker, Circe, 1889

Wright Barker, Circe, 1889

Circe is a goddess of magic, described in Homer’s Odyssey as “The loveliest of all immortals” who lived on the island of Aeaea. Circe, a figure from Greek mythology whose father was Helios and her mother – an ocean nymph is best known for her vast knowledge of drugs & herbs.

I Saw The Truth…

We stumbled on in the darkness, over big stones and through large puddles, along the one road leading from the camp. The accompanying guards kept shouting at us and driving us with the butts of their rifles. Anyone with very sore feet supported himself on his neighbor’s arm. Hardly a word was spoken; the icy wind did not encourage talk. Hiding his mouth behind his upturned collar, the man marching next to me whispered suddenly: “If our wives could see us now! I do hope they are better off in their camps and don’t know what is happening to us.”

That brought thoughts of my own wife to mind. And as we stumbled on for miles, slipping on icy spots, supporting each other time and again, dragging one another up and onward, nothing was said, but we both knew: each of us was thinking of his wife. Occasionally I looked at the sky, where the stars were fading and the pink light of the morning was beginning to spread behind a dark bank of clouds. But my mind clung to my wife’s image, imagining it with an uncanny acuteness. I heard her answering me, saw her smile, her frank and encouraging look. Real or not, her look was then more luminous than the sun which was beginning to rise.

A thought transfixed me: for the first time in my life I saw the truth as it is set into song by so many poets, proclaimed as the final wisdom by so many thinkers. The truth – that love is the ultimate and the highest goal to which Man can aspire. Then I grasped the meaning of the greatest secret that human poetry and human thought and belief have to impart: The salvation of Man is through love and in love. I understood how a man who has nothing left in this world still may know bliss, be it only for a brief moment, in the contemplation of his beloved. In a position of utter desolation, when Man cannot express himself in positive action, when his only achievement may consist in enduring his sufferings in the right way – an honorable way – in such a position Man can, through loving contemplation of the image he carries of his beloved, achieve fulfillment. For the first time in my life I was able to understand the meaning of the words, “The angels are lost in perpetual contemplation of an infinite glory.”

Viktor Frankl, In: Man’s Search for Meaning, Part One, “Experiences in a Concentration Camp”

Viktor Frankl and his wife Eleonore

Viktor Frankl and his wife Eleonore

 

What Is Remembered Forever…

I seem to have loved you in numberless forms, numberless times…
In life after life, in age after age, forever.
My spellbound heart has made and remade the necklace of songs,
That you take as a gift, wear round your neck in your many forms,
In life after life, in age after age, forever.

Whenever I hear old chronicles of love, it’s age-old pain,
It’s ancient tale of being apart or together.
As I stare on and on into the past, in the end you emerge,
Clad in the light of a pole-star piercing the darkness of time:
You become an image of what is remembered forever.

You and I have floated here on the stream that brings from the fount.
At the heart of time, love of one for another.
We have played along side millions of lovers, shared in the same
Shy sweetness of meeting, the same distressful tears of farewell-
Old love but in shapes that renew and renew forever.

Today it is heaped at your feet, it has found its end in you
The love of all man’s days both past and forever:
Universal joy, universal sorrow, universal life.
The memories of all loves merging with this one love of ours –
And the songs of every poet past and forever.

Rabindranath Tagore (1861-1941)
A Poem, written in 1890 (translator unknown)

Cupid and Psyche, F.P.Thumann

Cupid and Psyche, F.P.Thumann

Parallel Universe

“There was a time in my life not so long ago, that I experienced a moment that could only be described as pure love and happiness.
It was as if love and happiness were finally real to me and were something tangible, embodied in that moment.
They were in everything I could hear, touch, taste or smell.
I could see them with my very eyes – reflected back at me in someone else’s.
They were all around me, breathing life into me, as if wrapping me up in a blanket.

And in that moment I caught a glimpse of something.
A parallel universe – a way things could have been.
An alternate reality where that love and happiness were mine to keep, a place where I didn’t have to let them go.

I only hope that one day…. many years from now when I am an old lady and I close my eyes for the last time – I will open them again and find myself there.”

Ranata Suzuki

John William Waterhouse, Gone but not forgotten, 1873

John William Waterhouse, Gone but not forgotten, 1873