Love Loss & Life

I’ve been reading a lot of late – of love, of loss, of life.

None of the books I’ve read are remotely alike – there’s Twelve Times Blessed (Jacquelyn Mitchard), Travelling Light (Katrina Kittle), Mad About the Boy (Maggie Alderson), Anne of Ingleside (LM Montgomery) to name but a few – all set in different spaces and times, yet strong with hope and passion.

It’s made me reflect on how these themes permeate our everyday’s lives. Many would say that to live means to love, and to suffer loss, and to a great extent I have to say I agree. From the time we are born, our lives are about the triumphs of love (mum or dad’s hug when baby’s hurt, the first kiss) and the pain of loss.

I read the paper today (The New York Times Online), and I see a refugee has gone on a shooting rampage in Utah (USA) – here was someone who escaped from the horrors of their homeland, who set out to murder people they had never met. We will probably never know why. Was something broken in this young man’s head after years of witnessing violence and despair in his homeland? There are now countless families in that community who must now come to terms with loss and fear – states that seem to be echoed in ever increasing frequency around the world in many homes and communities, and in greater numbers than ever before.

From the time we are born (often from an act of love), we spend our whole lives seeking love, and seeking to give love. What is it, then, that seems to be driving so many more people to violence and hatred? Can this be answered adequately by the (some may say) simplistic argument of the have nots seeking the power and privilege of the haves? I don’t buy it. Does the answer lie in the bigotry, the racial and religious intolerance that seems to seek into every facet of our lives? Perhaps.

I sometimes think that many people forget that the ‘religious wars’ of today (the ideological differences between east and west, the contrasts between Christianity and Islam, the capitalists and the communists) have been fought in differing permutations since the beginning of time. (I’m not going to enter into a discussion regarding when this was BTW – I’m not a scientist, or a creationist, and I’ll stay far far away from the whole ‘intelligent design’ debate thanks all the same!). Tash will no doubt correct my historical accuracy on this …. But … let’s think about a few ‘highlights’ of history: The Viking raids on England, The Crusades, The Cold War …. All about my god’s better than your god (or, my system of government is better than yours!).

There’s a lesson in there about how history repeats itself – but it’s getting away from my topic.

Love, loss and life.

Because we live – we love. Because we love, our losses can cut us to the bone. Because we live, love will help us heal from those losses, and will provide us with the love and support we need to live life to the full.

The books I mentioned back at the beginning show this cycle, with humour, with pathos, with gritty, hard hitting realism. They each explore the fears that today’s society helps instil in each of us (am I thin enough / pretty enough / rich enough), and explore the effect of bigotry on those we love. They do so by gently questioning our beliefs (why is it that an older man who marries a younger woman is “lucky”, where as she’s a gold-digging tramp?) and by challenging us to face the consequences of our fears. Could these books be considered high-brow literature? Nope. Does that diminish their message? Nope.

I’d love to hear what books you’ve been reading lately that have challenged you, or even about the books you have been rereading lately that have touched you or made you think.

I’ve been thinking about love, loss and life in the last few weeks. I’m about to embark on an adventure – I’m packing up my life, and my home, and moving to the other side of the world. And I’ve lost a friend – a powerful, beautiful, intelligent vital woman, lost to the world at the age of 39. I know Aveline will have redecorated her space in the afterlife (I’m sure there’s lots of pink involved, and maybe even a little black!), and will already be organising the all the other blessed souls to rise up and agitate for a better deal. And with the anniversary of another great friend’s death looming, I’m reminded again that though life goes on, it’s splendours tarnished by the holes left by those no longer with us, love keeps those who have gone before us close by.

Talk soon,


Dee