Prelude:

The Kenyan plain always pulls an aching string in my peaceful heart. Every time a thought of her invades my oh so intelligent puny little mind, it shatters my very invincible and insatiable female ego that’s stuck in a hardened place called society, civility, decency and humanity.  – I long to be the lone roaming undomesticatable elephant, the image of the free African spirit, who’d spend a life away in peace, innocence and content, grazing on her opulent grass, gazing at her setting sun, breathing her warm lucid air, dying a dignified death without a burial, upon her rich colorful soil.

My love affair with Kenya was brief but everlasting. Yes, love, the very mystical phrase, whose meaning is ill-conceived and means awkwardly applied by many, is what I passionately feel for Kenya – as well as for, huh, let’s see – Tibetan plateau, coastal Brazil, South India, Kashmir, and half dozen more of wild places off the beaten track and of the least convenience of civilization and sophistication.

The Confession: A “Commitment-Phobic” Lover

You see - sorry to have brought upon you any disappointment, my dearest - but the kind of love I talk and walk is not monogamous nor faithful; it is, however, I swear to God, in its every fiber, true love.  I’ve loved nearly every one that I’ve shared any duration of living with, and I’ve fallen in love with almost half of those that I’ve seen, and I care not to hide my crush on many that I’ve not yet had the fortune to visit. To win my love cannot be simpler: beauty matters, size counts, wildness attracts, character is essential, richness is a plus, and innocence turns me on… Stay what you are and where you are, and accept my judgment of you, for if you are not judged to be my type, it is technically impossible to count on my revisit, less my love and commitment.  (LollerLoverRevolver!)

My "101 on how to stay the heart of a lone roaming lover (once love is upon you)", is to bear in mind that:

"Love is like the sand in thy hand, squeeze her and she shall flee, ask nothing from her and thou shall have the most of her". – the commitment-phobic lover

As for my above satirical accounts on my potential love relations, I have my due defenses, through experiences of trials and errors. Although I hold sincere respect for monogamy and loyalty – for people who are capable, content or otherwise relied upon to follow and devote themselves to such a lifestyle in any form of loving relationships, that is – I have progressively over the past few years come to develop feelings of disdain, repulsion and even horror toward such love in the conventional erotic/romantic nature, that is, in my own very private life.

Allow me to justify my commitment-phobia-like continence with dignity, humility and sarcasm, that I shall admit that me and romantic love are not good for each other.  Love blinds people – a truthful conclusion that none can effectively challenge. I am too big to be kept within the conventional enclosures of romantic love – an honest statement that I wish not to undo.

I’ve no expertise for the art of love, inasmuch as I’ve no expertise for the knowledge of God. I shall say I’ve looked, I’ve tried, I’ve (pretended to have) cared, I’ve walked the line, but I no longer can honestly stick a flying feather of regard thereto. I’ve no use of the love from an one-and-only lover, inasmuch as I’ve no use of a belief in an one-and-only God; I’ve no competence or will to complete a lover’s life, inasmuch as I’ve no competence or will to perfect a God belief.  For neither a lover nor a God shall depend their existence or quality of existence upon my affirmation or contribution, they exist on their own – as long as they do not seek to lock me up within the possessive and repressive walls of spiritual dictation, I shall not seek to confine them with my humanly manipulative and fallible embraces of love.  None is my lord and I’m lord to none.  – I indeed have the highest regards for love and God (the universe), even if these regards find no sufficient space to convey themselves herein, I’m content enough to roll them on with my nose sticking high up in the air, snorting off any judgment of ridicule flying my way.

The Acknowledgment: The Futility of Love Hunt

“Love isn’t true, it’s just something that we do.” – Madonna, Don’t Tell Me

My acknowledgement for the futility of confining love (into a romantic relationship, or otherwise), as mentioned above, came much later in life than that for the futility of defining God, similarly through trials and errors of education and experiments.

Many, like myself, grew up being spoon fed with mystical verses of praises for true love, as well as for a nurturing God, and of techniques for securing the company, fortune and blessings of true love and of God.

Sufficiently prudent and intelligent people shall know that many abstract objects, such as love, God, truth, peace, happiness, success, freedom and wisdom, etc., cannot be sufficiently discovered, defined or confined by means of literature, but expressed, wherein regretfully, limited for our human conceptions, therefore resulting in complacency, narrow-sight, close-mind, bias, bigotry and even hatred in the practice of these abstract objectives in the worldly relation, as well as within self.   Need I go further to explain the self-evident destruction by the results of incompetents’ interpretations, applications and dictations thereof of these objectives that are meant to be ascertained by each and every individual for their unique adoption into their unique life situations? (If you think I needed to, then I shall tell you: no!... and, do not bother reading further my ‘profound’ articulation)

I have for many years yearned for a carefree life in some place nowhere, away from all the madness over such pretend democracy and civilization at the cost of an individual’s mental, physical and spiritual identity, uniqueness and liberty, imposed by the lords of our society via the packaging and marketing of romanticized preaches and passionate reinforcements throughout his/her life – very lucky few are able to successfully comprehend the magnitude of this mad dream of romance and passion for the pursuits and dictations of the ‘incomprehensible’, or to escape from it.

"The most incomprehensible thing about the universe is that it is comprehensible" -- A. Einstein  (note that from close scrutiny of Einstein’s belief, it is safe to surmise that he believed in the equation of God = Universe)

I consider myself one of the extremely lucky in life that, besides my fortunate upbringing by my family, I’ve been through many traumas and dramas of life with my eyes, heart and mind fully open to have learned to accept the magnitude of many of the ‘incomprehensible’, and even to have gained enough wit to appreciate and respect it without feeling the passion and compulsion to comprehend them (as in “I must know and know it fully”).  I’m in a stage of life where I daresay audaciously that I have materially comprehended the key to wellness and peace in life, is to stop worrying or bothering with those that I don’t have and I am not, but to live and best experience what I have and I am, through disappointment and pleasure, acceptance and rejection, defeat and triumph, pain and joy, wherever I am and whoever I am with – with my eyes, heart and mind as fully open as possible.

“Happiness is the absence in striving for happiness” – Lao-tze

“I am not religious, I just like to pray”, I often joke.  – I pray not to God, nor do I hope for magical luck, but to encourage the consciousness and strength of my own and of others.  “I am not in love, I’m just a lover”, and I tease. – I believe not the idea of monogamous love (or the governmentally approved marriage), nor do I desire a ‘soul-mate’ shot out of the crowd, but I live as a lover for myself and anyone capable of putting my love into good use.

My praying not to the one-and-only God, and my loving not the one-and-only beloved, have liberated, enriched and strengthened myself, my life experiences and my connections to nature (“God”) and loving people. I have benefited beyond words as a reward.  When one ceases to ask God to light the path of hers, she finds herself walking the path of her own and of God; when one quits hoping for a lover to unleash her love, she is able to fulfill the love for herself and for a lover.  Only when you stop pushing the outward pursuit of God, love, or happiness, you are able to perceive your every pore starting to inhale and exhale God, love and happiness.

My silly verses above can sound as shallow to talk of as they appear hollow to walk by. I’d have to admit to that end, that me and you have reached the limit of wit for comprehending the incomprehensible. Don’t push further, if you shall, step over for the time being – onto a few comprehensible counts of my life stories, from a loyal monogamous lover into the disloyal philanthropic lover.

(To be continued...Interlude: My Love Affairs)