Do You Need More Than Love?

Some things become clear as you walk along a beach. Sound, relationships and life's purpose seem to flow through my psyche normally walking along a long, sandy beach. This weekend, I spent time, in So. California,  to walk the beaches and found that my mind was not focused on those things,  instead it was trying to answer the question of what is it about people that overwhelms me with joy, inspires me, makes me laugh or cry? The richness of it all, the depth, the passion, the love, the truth was the answer for me.

Their stories of sorrows, joys were highlights for me, this weekend. I paid attention to a lot of stories from people who, like myself, needed to understand that part inside themselves which relies on the rest of us to listen, comment and provide adagios for our souls' to touch love.That is our treasure to one another.

Humans are an incredible lot. We create drama, find love, walk away from love, walk with or away from one another, depending on our fear of commitment level. I spent hours walking the beach in Venice, Ca. this past Saturday evening. Had not been there for a couple of years, and found myself seeing many of the same sights that had been there before. The faces had changed, the products, too, but not all. One thing, I love about humans is their ability to replicate historic memories and conserve them for the rest of us. There is something lovely in the familiar, like Constantine's Gate in the Roman Forum, or Michelangelo's, David.

The Venice astrologer was still in the same building and in the same apartment! When I saw the sign on the balcony, I smiled. A little memory laugh rose up my chakras, as I recalled a night, years ago, when a friend went in and came back with the answer he needed about his girlfriend. I think they may still be together. Familiar. 

I have changed a lot over the years, however, not so much, as I stood in front of Jimmy Hendrix, playing his heart and singing there on the sidewalk. He looks just like Jimmy and if you did not know Hendrix was dead, well, you'd believe he was still on earth with us, looking at the Jimmy-double. I was happy to see Jimmy, there. It brought back a memory of a visit to Hendrix's grave, the first time I visited Seattle, at the Greenwood Memorial Park in Renton, Washington.

I parked at the memorial in Renton. There was no one there in the cemetery with me. Not all his songs appealed to me, however, there is a loss for all humanity when a musician dies, as his music rises to the sky with only the air to carry it into the ethers. Notes rising from earth, harmony collectively joining minds and hearts for a period of time, a period of emotional recognition of something in all our souls. 

I opened all the doors on my car, and put on Beethoven's Sonata in C Sharp Minor Op.27, No 2.The stereo volume set to the highest level.

You could hear it all over the cemetery and it was magnificent.

Beethoven dedicated the Sonata to his pupil, Countess Giulietta Guicciardi,  whom Beethoven had loved. The piece came about when Beethoven heard music coming from a house. and knew it was one of his compositions. When he entered the house, he found a blind girl playing the piano. She wished someone would show her how to play the song correctly. He offered to play it for her, and when he finished, she realized who it was. He then improvised the sonata, inspired by the moonlight streaming in through the window.[wikipedia]

I sat at the grave and listened to that incredible, expansive piece as it played to me and the birds, that warm, summer evening, while I thought about a man who had been wild, extreme, creative and gave up his life to the addictions which plague men, like himself, when too much, too fast arises from the creative genius and is sold to the world for the price of a life, his life. 

When I stood there on the beach, in Venice, this weekend, I remembered that day in Renton, and my hope that one day I would like to have someone play that Beethoven piece, to me, alone. Somewhere on earth, which takes our breath away, because of its beauty. Just to sit alone with the pianist and not a word spoken, between us. Just the music, the piano, the light, the fingers, the breath moving from our bodies, and his fingers touching the keys. Just that and nothing else. To walk from that room, together, blinded by the beauty of it all --well, that is heaven to me.

The joy of creation is reward itself. The money, fame, glory is not why a musician composes, an artist paints, a writer writes, is it? Perhaps, the Venice Beach astrologer realized, years ago, and made a decision that the gift they had was enough to be happy.

Paulo Coelho said, in an interview,-- that people think that a winner is someone who is loved by everyone. But as you climb the steps of fame, there's always another side to that. People might be fascinated by you, but on the other hand, those who haven't been as successful are bound to view you with a certain amount of bitterness. That's where the loneliness comes in.--

Maybe loneliness is what overtook Jimmy. It all comes down to a choice and eventually that

choice should be made based on what you really need to survive in this world. 

A man once asked me what I wanted from him and I could not tell him, because he was not the man I would accept those things from, if you understand me. I know now what I want.

I need a roof over my head, food and drink on the table, a warm bed with a kind-spirited, loving man in it, books, art, music. Anything else, any gifts are treasures,given lovingly and with the knowledge they were chosen with love. What is it that you need? Do you need more than love?

Is love not enough or is it too much to bear? Think fast. Act now.