Pondering how love moves in and through us
The muse for this column was an article I wrote 11 years ago, inspired by a question posed by a friend: “What is love? Seriously.” The “Seriously” got me thinking about it then and has me thinking about it again now. Most of us know that love can be a noun, but I contest that it is universally more relatable and inspiring as a verb.
Then, at 56; and now, at 67, certain things remain somewhat of a mystery … the abstractness of love, for example. Action gives meaning to words when it comes to love.
Please humour me as I ponder the similarities between vampires, those mythical marauders, and love: both require an object for their affection (they’re transitive), and for both it is action that matters. While vampires may not be the first thing that springs to mind when you think about love, you’ve really got to hand it to them because they excel in demonstrating their “affection.”
For me, the main link between love and vampires is The Deluxe Transitive Vampire, Karen Elizabeth Gordon’s Gothic romp through grammar. I love that book, and it sparked the connection above.
As much as we love to hear about love and feel love, the action of love really is where it’s at. And that leads into the idiom I have laid claim to and have aspired to live up to: Love is a verb.
Love propels us, whether inwardly or outwardly, in some way that expresses itself and touches lives beyond that of our own. I googled this question: “Does witnessing love and kindness cause us to act in loving and kind ways?” Turns out that science attests that yes, it does.
To give an example, I recently watched a video and was moved to tears as people walked, some arm in arm, while they sang to their neighbours. Their voices carried a message of hope and courage, and brought comfort.
Have you ever felt something stir so deeply within you, as you listened to lyrics? Or read poetry that resonated so deeply that you thought that somehow the writer knew all about your life? Did either of these things inspire you to take a step that would positively affect your own life or someone else’s?
As I think back to my childhood on our southern-Saskatchewan farm, what stands out is what I then believed were the “little” things of life … things like my mother spending what seemed like endless hours in our kitchen where she baked almost everything imaginable. Fresh-baked buns … well, those were some of our favourites. Those steaming mounds of glistening perfection, hot out of the oven with a yeasty aroma that permeated the kitchen as they glistened in rows until they were just cool enough to slice and then slather with butter.
My mother baked buns over and over again—tirelessly, it seemed—because she loved us. And to this day, the aroma of fresh-baked bread is more than a memory … It’s a reminder of her love, which is an inspiration for me. I am still growing in the ways of love and it is my faith that spurs me onward and gives me the courage to transform love into a verb, as she did.
Getting back to that vampire we “met” at the beginning of this column, the one peering out from some secluded spot … Let’s revamp that (pun intended). Now imagine that vampire transformed by love … once again gazing with longing at the object of his affection, but this time smiling and bidding them a gentle-if-not-fond farewell, with wishes for a peaceful night.
As humans, we, too, are able to inflict harm, but we also have profound capacity to love. So, while love is often a noun that expresses being and feeling, it really comes alive when it is a verb—when it becomes love in action.
For myself, actively loving may look like any of these: spending time with family, encouraging a writer, inviting someone to go ahead of me, including someone, listening and then taking a breath before responding, and creating a safe space for others. What does it look like for you?
Simply put: Love is a verb.
