Slipping Through My Fingers

Why do we love? What does it serve? Is it a relationship? An exchange of energy and genes? Does it serve social utility and child rearing? Or is it an irreversible chemical reaction? Emotional intelligence? A divine force? An evolutionary engine for social survival? Why do we endure so much pain for it? And where does it all go when it slips away from our fingers?

We don’t know the answers, or else where would the romance of it be? Yet, I’d like to think that love is in our nature. Perhaps it is nature itself. Ecosystems, too, similarly to our human relationships, are made up of energy exchanges, chemistry, refusal, passion, and pain. Love isn’t something we invented. It’s everywhere; it’s in forests and oceans as well as grasslands and frozen lakes.

Like Our Love

We don’t need to romanticize nature; it’s already very romantic. From albatrosses inventing long-distance and clownfishes & sea anemones being toxic lovers to bonobos using affection as a means to resolve their conflicts, the natural world is full of bizarre and beautiful love. Like our love.

It’s nice to know that it’s out there, especially when it fades away from our hearts. Lovers come and go, but Earth stays with us.

It Blinks

Love doesn’t often work like we think it would. It surprises us and catches us off guard. Like a flower on a busy street, blinking. Like an unexpected sunset, melting in our eyes. Or like a bird at our door, lost and found. It gets into our bloodstream faster than we can fight it off. Seeing the love and affection nature offers may be the only true crisis we face.

We need a relationship with this planet, as much as we need with each other.