I loved thee with a love I seemed to lose

How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.
I love thee to the depth and breadth and height
My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight
For the ends of Being and ideal Grace.
I love thee to the level of everyday's
Most quiet need, by sun and candle-light.
I love thee freely, as men strive for Right;
I love thee purely, as they turn from Praise.
I love thee with a passion put to use
In my old griefs, and with my childhood's faith.
I love thee with a love I seemed to lose
With my lost saints, --- I love thee with the breath,
Smiles, tears, of all my life! --- and, if God choose,
I shall but love thee better after death.
-Elizabeth Barrett Browning

I'm not a mushy person. In fact I don't see myself as someone who is traditionally romantic. But something has happened to me recently. I guess you could say that I've become more in-tuned with my sensitive side. We read the above poem in my British Literature class today and something absolutely out of the ordinary happened: I cried.
I don't cry in public very often, if ever. And I'm known for staying away from relationships and commitment. And at every turn I debate against this idealized, romantic, unfounded notion of "love". I don't believe in "love" as associated with the fairy tales and prince charming's most of us have grown up with. But what I realized in class, while reading Browning's words to the man who would become her husband, I understood a little better what this idea of "love" was.
Browning speaks of love as something that is limitless. It is the deepest, widest, highest love that anyone can fathom. And that got me to thinking about what a limitless love means. And I think I'm slightly closer to understanding what the capacity of actual love means and what that does to the heart.

The Facade of an Existential Crisis?

“Among other things, you'll find that you're not the first person who was ever confused and frightened and even sickened by human behaviour. You're by no means alone on that score, you'll be excited and stimulated to know. Many, many men have been just as troubled morally and spiritually as you are right now. Happily, some of them kept records of their troubles. You'll learn from them—if you want to. Just as some day, if you have something to offer, someone will learn something from you. It's a beautiful reciprocal arrangement. And it isn't education. It's history. It's poetry." J.D. Salinger

I titled this post with a question mark because the entire basis of my personal existential crisis is shaky. At this point in life I'm not really sure if there is such a thing as an existential crisis.

Sometimes I think that growing up in love with an author, and subsequently his work, may have hindered me from experiencing life genuinely. I have been in love with Salinger for most of my life. Sometimes I wonder that if by living in The City, and reading his work over and over again, I'm not somehow forced into a false sense of existentialism and the constant questioning of "what is life?". Were I not saturated in Seymour Glass' life and family, and had I not felt myself going through a nervous breakdown like Holden, would I still step back from my life and question the "why" of the Universe? I suppose it will have to be one of those chicken and egg dilemmas.

As for now, I will sit here looking out on The City, on 23rd Street and Lexington, 13 floors above the rainy streets, and think about Salinger and The City and Life. And I'll wait for spring to come and bring a little color to my gray scale world.

I love it when we're cruising together.

"Baby let's cruise, away from here
Don't be confused, the way is clear
& if you want it you got it forever
This is not a one night stand, baby, yeah"


I took a trip to (what my city mind calls) the country this past weekend and I learned something very important, I belong in the city. I had been operating under the impression that I belonged in the city for awhile but last weekend proved it. To me, the city signifies a mindset that we live in a united world, not a state, or a town.
In The City, I am bombarded with pictures of the distraction in Japan and the political unrest in Libya. I hear discussions about the economic state of our world and the devastation in war torn countries. But while I was in the suburbs I could feel the disconnection from the world. Soccer mom cars, chain restaurants, big houses.
I'm not saying that living outside of a large city is a bad thing, I'm saying that for me to feel connected to the world, I need to be near the city. I can see myself being easily lost in the comfort and familiarity of people and things around me. I'm more afraid of being complacent than almost anything in my life. Living in a place where I see people from all over the world on a daily basis reminds me that I'm not the only culture living in the world. It clarifies the idea of one race, the human race.

So while I will probably take many weekends away to "get away from it all", I'll always find myself coming back to The City I love. The City that reminds me how precious life is, how fleeting and temporary it all can be. A City that challenges me and that pisses me off, that makes me angry and that also enlightens me, and romances me, and reminds me of how lucky I am to be alive.

Wow. Thanks suburbia for the epiphany.