THE LOVEOF MAKING _ GROWTH

The LOVE of making is imperfect as time passes and trends change.  As the rose petals fall at the end of a season.  As the cathartic feelings stop from the weekend past and the rush of getting a days work done begins.  There is a finality to every project we undertake, making love a finality in itself.  As one partner leaves from the shadows of the forest, so another arrives.  We are imperfectly final and stood at the breaches of destiny.  As one project ends another begins and so an unravelling path beholds us to plunge in right at the beginning again.  When we uphold embarrassing moments as an example of finality, well they are not of love, and therefore only in their remorse find a reason not to happen again.  Moments in time are not an ever pervading likeness or representation of ourselves and so we can be forgiven by everyone given time.  Often context and the drive of someones life are intermittently fractious from those who judge us.

Finality quite simply means an end.  The house we have lived in for years, or ideal partner.  Our children and our make believe lives.  The food and drink we buy on a regular basis and our getting used to the final pay cheque at the end of the month all have markings of finality.  Our play of mind, our quintessential expectations, and our loss of elders as time passes by.  Our erudite lives welcome obscenity to our obsignatory vows in marriage.  The highest moral chastity of all.  But unfortunately extreme minds come into play either by feeling kept or delusional from small time paranoia.  Through guilt or a poor upbringing or maybe just hormonal impulses.  Until one loves in finality, mistakes and all.

If we take current extremism it feels as if its love of group self, allows them to love themselves more adherently in war, as polar opposites.  If there were no war on a constant level they would give up to the vasodilation of the mind instead of a restricted carnage of all men other than those deemed in their brotherhood.  One must affirm from the first thought one of love on births table, to make it from womb to mothers arms.  And hold on tightly for it is wild out there at times.  So once contact is made the original love of all is apparent and starts not in finality, but to grow.  The beginning of a life foretold.  The vascular tree copies us, as we do the tree, into life with blood vessels pumping and being pumped by the heart muscle.

The more we grow old, the more dignity we can expect.  And an affirmation in God.  As if God were beyond the mind, but in our hearts the more love exponentially grows with age.  So we find with work love exponentially grows too.  Each new project growing in our minds just as we accumulate wealth.  If religion had died when Nietschze said 'God is dead' in 'The Gay Science' written in 1893, after the enlightenment, the idea of a Universe governed by physical laws as opposed to divine providence was legitimate, but for which we return to today in balance.  There was preceding finality to our love for the universe and now there is growth into exponential love again.  As if the Lord's Prayer will inadvertently mean we will be gathered in heaven before the end of this world by Jesus Christ himself.  We will cry when the World ends just as we have cried the first, as there will be a last time, born of matter into spirit from which we came.  There must be an infinite amount of energy on the planet for our relativism to the Universe.  The birth of all architecture.

The architecture of the brain was born of survival to abstract realms.  To see a scene as colour, object and conscious thought, makes a space abstract in light and shade if one stares for long enough.  Making it a scene again as one lingers.  If one sees now the brain as object, the abstraction comes from its seeming devolution an unfortunate political term, and its demise into mental health problems.  There really is an autopsy of the brain required in todays reality to see the brain as object as opposed to its own objectivity.  The growth has become experimental in health and not endearing to loves growth.  Warfare or grace becomes a must and the extremist exponential existentialist becomes repeat to get away with tawdry.  A famous Taoist motto on love is thus:

"Simplicity, patience, compassion. 

These three are your greatest treasures. 

Simple in actions and thoughts. 

You return to the source of being. 

Patient with both friends and enemies.

You accord with the way things are. 

Compassionate toward yourself.

You reconcile all beings in the world."

_ Lao Tzu in Tao Te Ching _

This simple motto says everything about loves qualms and likes.  It grows not deemed mediocre when in moderation for it spills on the floor in more of an abundance as life passes. Therefore something seminal becomes bodily function and fitness as opposed to culminating forces of polar minds in lustre of provocation and back to lux.

Health and good health is exponential love if it is believed in whole heartedly.  From the finality of image the heart grows fonder and assimilates itself with a goal.  To a determination of plash and pleach as we grow into and above, below, in-front, behind and left and right of ourselves.  But the visage of truth undeniably in true love will shine through once and forever as if it were always there.