Many people experience being ‘in love’ in a positively goofy, obsessive/compulsive way. Certainly the rush of falling in lust causes such feelings, but lust and love, while sometimes appearing in concert, are two very different sensibilities.

    What is lust and what is love? Is there a difference between the two? If the distinction exists, how does it show itself and what does that contrast mean in our lives?

    It is relatively simple to recognize the teenager in the lustful groove of puberty. Certainly, with no more self or societal awareness than most adolescents possess, we can assume pure lust in their coupling motives, with the confusion of ‘love’ thrown in for histrionics. The constantly eager sexual state of being which is clearly associated with puberty stands as the definition of lust. We accept, with some trepidation, this state in the teen, understanding that the newness and intensity of sexual stimulation can be overwhelming to the inexperienced. While there are some exceptions, most of these early relationships never develop beyond curious, excited bumps in the night. Young lovers part with all the drama of a Shakespearean play, yet recover from their bout with ‘love’ at missile speed, only to move on to their next partner for further lessons in passion.

    Pure lust, by its’ nature, is for the young. It is unseemly for those meeting the decades of passing to take on its’ charms. Yet the middle aged man (or woman) inclines to willfully disregard character, covenant, principle, and take up with another in direct opposition to all he has held dear through his life – his pledge, his integrity, his honor. In doing so, he shows the effects of lust. He happily betrays everything of importance in his life with utter disregard for the resulting injury to his loved ones, all for chemistry, alchemy, being somehow magically transformed – ‘in love.’ He reminds us of nothing more than the ancient symbol of the grey-bearded goat in full rut, chasing after his purient booty. He is under a spell, reaching for lost vigor, ready to destroy that which he has spent years – frequently a lifetime – to develop, ardent to devastate the hard earned respect of friends and family, all for a connection based upon physical responses to exotic stimuli.

    Meanwhile, he declares himself as being ‘in love’ without the ability to clearly define the nature of his coupling or characteristics of his beloved which separate her from all others. In time, when the chemical reaction fades, he comes to realize the damage his amorous adventure has caused, but it is too late. His life, his refuge, his family are in ruin and there is no foundation for love in the attachment for which he has forsaken all.

    Lust alone as the primary basis for immutable intimacy does not endure, but burns out in a short interval. Many people are surprised when, after a year or two, or even a month or two, in a relationship or marriage, there is no foundation of love to rely upon. They may have transitioned from the honeymoon excitement of lust into the day to day, constant, consistent sameness of the everyday world. Without the thrill of habitual eroticism, they are lost. They look at one another and wonder about the stranger in their bed. They have mistaken lust for love.

    The driving force of lust can make us believe we cannot live without the constant energy of the other person. This is primarily a physiological condition. Energy, alchemy, chemistry, and hormones create the illusion of an emotional investment when, in truth, none exists. The initial chemical reaction persists in supporting the desperation of desire, while the time, similarity, and energy needed to support the growth and development of love have not been initiated or, worse yet, cannot ever exist.

    Lust makes us giddy – two energies becoming one, but in a greater state together than apart. The ‘Jerry McGuire’ line, "You complete me," is a perfect reflection of lust. Lust makes us forget ourselves and our own unique completeness in the constant drive to merge with our lover. The fixation of inferred fulfillment through the other can negate everything the individual actually needs for his own life, growth, and development. It is as though the alchemy of the moment annuls an entire existence of wisdom.

    People often fall in love with being in lust. It is fun to have those roller coaster feelings. It feels as though we are alive and awake and aware of everything about our partner in a more extreme way. There is an excitement in lust which cannot be found in any other human experience. For the young, it is the new impressions on mind, body, heart, and spirit. As we grow older, it reminds us of the newness of life we have long since missed. Lust becomes as addictive as any drug, opening us to a lifetime of unfulfilled romantic dreams, for dreaming is at the core of lust. Like a dream, without a firm foundation of love as its’ support, lust fades in the light of day.

    What is true love? It appears when two spirits recognize each other – what they sense and know of each other – and blend together while remaining distinctly separate. We distinguish this soul as a unique being, particularly matched to our own peculiarities. Even within that recognition, however, there is no romantic notion that somehow without the other in our lives we cannot exist. Our spirits know we can continue perfectly well on our own. No exaggerating, exasperating obsession – simply and beautifully an acknowledgment of the grace found in combining.

    When love is real, it conflicts with nothing, but supports everything that each partner is independently working to achieve. Our present lives fall into the glorious sustenance of a companion soul, further fulfilling our endeavors by their presence in our lives. We have our own power, demeanor, and space. In some way, however, we are better able to live within our spirits and power while in the companionship of the one we love. There is greater breadth and depth in the articulation of our selves because of the support of the other. What was a life lived in full-color moves into technicolor – more vivid, vibrant, exciting – discovered simply in the sharing.

    Love is something more akin to the swelling of a river from its’ banks during a spring rain – nothing forced, but flowing. Not so urgent as the flushing flood of lust, but gently pressing and expanding. Constantly building, growing – gracefully reaching up to caress the banks of our beings with that for which we did not know we were thirsting.

    It is the difference between a quickening and a deepening. Lust is the quickening that alerts us to potential. Love is the deepening of spiritual beings merging. Lust reaches its’ highest calling in service to the awakening of love. Love, in all its’ many forms, resounds as our souls’ ultimate goal for existence.

    Words of love are often used as words of lust, but there is a different texture when spirit joins the scene. There is a special space around the words – a warmth, a glow, a sensuality – which moves beyond mere touching. It is the texture of merging – energy, spirit, emotions – connecting.

D. Kristen Herrington 2001

young dragon

delighted young dragon walked down the street,
skipping and gliding, admiring his feet.
always he knew that his wings were so wondrous,
only now he realized his feet were phenomenous.

“look how they wiggle and dance on the ground,
and now when they move me, they make quite a sound.
so often i’ve soared through the stars in the sky,
but no one uses his feet as becomingly as i!”

after all these long years young dragon discovered,
the flight only charms when the path is well honored.

d. kristen herrington 2007

The Wizard – A Fairytale

       There once lived a true wizard. Not the scruffy, decrepit kind so often revered in song and verse. A vital, vivid wizard of words, master of movement, teller of tales, visiting his vibrancy on all he met. With the wind he wandered through the land, his existence exalting the very essence of energy. His body lean, his manner charmed, he quietly woke the world to the wonders of his mysteries.

       Over time and travels he wove a web of contentment and joy, sparkling his sprinklings of wisdom upon the palettes of the lives around him, ever reminding the people of who they were. Bringing the blessings of the bard, he offered humility in the face of the mounting hubris surrounding him.

       These were times of momentous change. The energy was shifting, reality altering. That which had happily existed in rapturous freedom was moving away from the commonly acknowledged ideas of reality. The vagaries were creating a veil of fear, hiding the mysteries of faith in the mist.

       Yet the talisman of the Taliesin held the prayer and the promise of the oracle in his dream of the dragon’s breath. Through his maddening utter lack of conventionality, he entwined a thrilling pattern of wonderment into the support of the world.

       Though he knew them not well, he was the protector of the people’s creation, conscious and unconscious. He held their need and desire to give their lives meaning through their charity of creative spirit in the wake of the mounting storm of conventionality. Always this conjurer questioned which was the casualty in their lives of commerce; the creation, the creativity, or the creator. He knew the answer lay in excavating yesterday’s forgotten dreams and tomorrow’s ill-placed promise.

       In his way, the diviner of wisdom understood their lost faith and artistry as the misaligned dome of a baby stuck, not slipping from the inner sanctum of the womb to the screaming air of life. He knew he must mark his world as the midwife of mankind’s imagination.

       From fantasy the wizard drew his breath and blood in the slow, supple expansion of the dragon’s inspiration. The flavors of life and love, pain and promise, happiness and hatred all lived in that breeze. If he could but teach of the trust in the balance of all things which opened his own heart to the magic of the mysteries, the people need not negate their faith for fear. Indeed, he would blissfully bestow his insight, as it is through creation mere mortals may echo the symmetry within the intent and divinity of the universe.

       This dragon wizard’s lair held not the jewels and gold of possessive obsession. Instead, he guarded the treasures of truth. He knew the peace found through acknowledging circumstances, accepting all that is, and allowing time and space to spin and turn events to their natural conclusion. With his slow, deep dragon’s breath, he held an understanding of the integrity established from waiting for the moment to mature into action. Never jumping to justice, he lingered until the forces of fate had shown their favor to move.

       And so, as time ripened the wizard formulated his strategy to open the people’s hearts. He wished them to witness the magnificence of motion, the timbre of tone, the glory of glowing color found within themselves.

       The enchanter encountered his vision through reflection and prayer, observation and awareness, acceptance and growth. Substantiating the resultant alchemy, he created according to the vision of his soul, elevating the ordinary to the delightful.

       The wizard wrote in words wrought from his heart, forming whimsical fantasies in pictures of his passions to maintain his message. He shifted within his soul’s sweet song, drawing dreams of dance from his daily adventures. He used his precious state of present meditation to monitor the forces surrounding him, exercising that energy in every aspect of his invention. Within the balance of reality, his life became a journey of constant symbols, illuminating with echoes of existence in the one.

       He wrote of the nothing that is everything and of the generation of the justborn. He composed heartfelt pathways and curls of cravings. Of funnies and fancies he inscribed his reflections.

       Finally, in waves of rampant nirvanic epiphany and clarity of being, the conjurer completed his collage of creation. The wonder of his wizardry and alchemy actualized an extraordinary enchantment to entice the masses.

       He banded the bliss of words with his masterful movement in dance. He illuminated the vision of his voice with illustrations. He styled his sympathy with sign. He thrust his truth into the world with the transcendence of joy. He felt within this fusion he could inspire sincere creative possibility in the hearts of others.

       With all the charm and grace notable in his nobility of spirit, the wizard opened his offering in performance for the people. As he presented his poetry and prose, he aroused them to the oneness of being true to their spirits, true to their essence, true to the universe – their own source of life. He awakened them to their reality, their personal truth and all the truth surrounding them. He offered them the perfection of pleasure. He offered them their own creation.

       The people were awed by all they saw and heard and felt in the wizard’s performance. The dragon had drawn his enchantment from and through their existence. Their veils were lifted for a while -– longer a time for some, shorter for others.

       Those who chose remained open to their own origin found in the wizard’s words. They would remain forever true to the universal power of their creation.

       Others felt no comfort, but fear in the infinity of creative eternity. Although the wizard reassured them of the fundamental freedom from fear befitting their beings, they instead chose to become one with fear’s limitations and refute their faith.

       The wizard could only believe, while drawing his perpetually patient dragon’s breath, that the cost of the consummate consumption of commerce on the soul would not be the dearth and death of the people’s creation. He yearned for no casualty of the creation, the creativity, or the creator in their lives. Perhaps his presentations of love and kindness would one day win their freedom from fear. He could but hope…..

       It has been many lifetimes since the wizard first opened his essence for the salvation of the world’s soul. The contest has continued through millennia – fear or freedom – first one side stronger, then the other. Yet the force of the wizard’s wish remains with us even now. Occasionally, once in a great while, we’re granted an opportunity to witness a thinning of the veil and glimpse the glory of grace the wizard so carefully preserved for us all. It remains our gift from him to receive at will.