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Writing > On Creativity > Bluebeard's Key |
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ForwardHow do you spell lauve/lough/laove?At the risk of sounding from another planet - I suddenly (while brushing a week¹s worth of pet¹s hair from a carpet) realised that we need to surrender to the absurdity of love. Not to its beauty, nor its obvious benefits to both lover and beloved, but to its incredible absurdity. We need to bathe in it and laugh and cry and laugh... Some time ago, I knew my task was to love. I had 25 students at my mercy (or maybe I was at theirs) and my task was to teach them something about creativity. I know that creativity and love comes from the same place, and I knew then that my task was simple: if I could bring love into 'education', they would find their own way towards their creativity. Simple? After a while, however, the enormity of their need and my own inadequacies brought me to a point where I could not see how it would make any difference. Even if they did find their love, and creativity, (and some did in spite of me) the rest of the world seemed bent upon prostituting it, and I despaired. Exhausted by my fight against the tide that always seemed to be rushing into me, tearing and going the way of non-love, I gave up. Surrendered to my own small life. Husband, children, house, a couple of cats, three dogs (and the memory of one). Again my task was simple: love and care for them - i.e: Brush the carpet. I chased the dogs out. Heard their sadness in the paws skulking away on the floorboards. Felt the tide again. The cold water swilling around me like the exuberant greeting of a young dog and I understood something: Don¹t chase the dog out - he wants to be with you - on the clean carpet that he appreciates more than anyone else in the house. He loves you like the tide loves the shore. Love is absurd. It gets you wet and dirty. So that you can clean up to do it again. Love will not conquer the world. It is the world, but only one half of it. It needs non-love like the shore needs the tide. Conquering would be disastrous to both. We are not one or the other - we are only little crabs rushing for a meal between incoming waves. And sometimes we are the meal. *** There are really two tasks on my plate now. The one is to laugh.
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www.annisnyman.co.za, author: Anni Snyman All work is under a Creative Commons Copyright Licence.
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