If one thing can be said to be common among all people, it is the desire to be loved. No other desire is shared by all people the world over. Some people want to change the world while others don’t care. Some want to make it onto a basketball team, and others hate sports. Some strive for acetic purity in fasting, others are forever consuming food in gluttonous delight. But the desire to be loved is the one common thread, and even the hermit cannot ignore his wish to be a meaningful component in some scheme beyond himself.

So it would seem that humans would have figured out the secrets of love long ago. But when we go and read the ancient texts, the correspondences of the ages, the longings, the ever painful searching quests for true loves, we often see that the goal of eternal bliss in the arms of love are so rare. For every king who built a palace for his true love, there were a thousand kings with thousands of women of no importance to their hearts. For every knight who saved his damsel and rode off into the sunset of happiness, there were countless tyrants who stole away women and committed them to unhappy slavery.

Now, in an age where the dominance of man over woman has diminished markedly, it might seem that love would be more common. Such is not the case, as we find that our literature is still just as filled with longing, with a sorrowful cry for that mystical enchantment called love. Our music still reminds us that we are alone too often, that we have failed to make that lasting friendship that is the goal of life. Our art almost focuses on the erotic as a way to remind us of a piece of love, but the heart of our art is often meaninglessly hollow: it has little anchored in the actual experience of our nightly dreams.

Wherein lies our tormented inability to find love? Is this world so truly harsh that a dream in us all is but a mocking phantom sent to haunt us and cause agony? Do we desire, above all things, something that is not real? Or is it just that we have striven to find love before we knew where to look?

Realism states that love has been missing from the lives of the masses. In this reality it paints a picture drenched in pessimism. It would make the more weak souls ask what purpose is there to live when they cannot have what they want most. For the stronger, it merely gives them a bitter satisfaction in surviving against a foe that is so great as to be timeless; for them, at least they did not fall to the monster of despair, although life lacked fulfillment.

But there have been those cases where love was real. The king who gave away his kingdom for a single woman, the woman who ran away from her world to live with a man. There are times when two people find each other and they are overwhelmed with a chemistry that cannot ever be removed. They find that they are happy just to exist side by side, that suddenly days are filled with laughter and fun. Many people can have fun, and love, but this type of relationship where the fun does not stop, where the sparkle in the eye and the smirk of frolicking joy never fades, is so immensely rare. Precious, it does occur.

This love is not impossible. This love is available to all of us, I say. But it is not something that can just happen—it is something that occurs only after given requirements are met. Why so many people cannot find the love of their life is because they have failed to find love for themselves. Those people bitter, those people with a sorrowful heart, depressed about existence, cannot ever give life to another person. The woman forever sad about all things does not fill the heart of a man with joyous excitement, and a man bitter at the world cannot make a woman feel special. They can walk a while and share their suffering, but they have nothing to add to one another. If they do not love themselves, they have nothing to radiate, nothing they want to share about themselves.

You will find that those happiest in life are those same people who love themselves. You will find that the most beautiful woman is she with the quick smile that is a response to her inner understanding that she should be happy to live. You will find that the man most charismatic is he who feels that he has something about himself that is intrinsically valuable. These people will be happy, and they will find love.

By Shawn Olson

Love as Emotion Complex

The emotion complex view, which understands love to be a complex emotional attitude towards another person, may initially seem to hold out great promise to overcome the problems of alternative types of views. By articulating the emotional interconnections between persons, it could offer a satisfying account of the “depth” of love without the excesses of the union view and without the overly narrow teleological focus of the robust concern view; and because these emotional interconnections are themselves evaluations, it could offer an understanding of love as simultaneously evaluative, without needing to specify a single formal object of love. However, the devil is in the details.

Rorty (1986/1993) does not try to present a complete account of love; rather, she focuses on the idea that “relational psychological attitudes” which, like love, essentially involve emotional and desiderative responses, exhibit historicity: “they arise from, and are shaped by, dynamic interactions between a subject and an object” (p. 73). In part this means that what makes an attitude be one of love is not the presence of a state that we can point to at a particular time within the lover; rather, love is to be “identified by a characteristic narrative history” (p. 75). Moreover, Rorty argues, the historicity of love involves the lover's being permanently transformed by loving who he does.

Baier (1991), seeming to pick up on this understanding of love as exhibiting historicity, says (p. 444):
Love is not just an emotion people feel toward other people, but also a complex tying together of the emotions that two or a few more people have; it is a special form of emotional interdependence.

To a certain extent, such emotional interdependence involves feeling sympathetic emotions, so that, for example, I feel disappointed and frustrated on behalf of my beloved when she fails, and joyful when she succeeds. However, Baier insists, love is “more than just the duplication of the emotion of each in a sympathetic echo in the other” (p. 442); the emotional interdependence of the lovers involves also appropriate follow-up responses to the emotional predicaments of your beloved. Two examples Baier gives (pp. 443–44) are a feeling of “mischievous delight” at your beloved's temporary bafflement, and amusement at her embarrassment. The idea is that in a loving relationship your beloved gives you permission to feel such emotions when no one else is permitted to do so, and a condition of her granting you that permission is that you feel these emotions “tenderly.” Moreover, you ought to respond emotionally to your beloved's emotional responses to you: by feeling hurt when she is indifferent to you, for example. All of these foster the sort of emotional interdependence Baier is after—a kind of intimacy you have with your beloved.

Badhwar (2003, p. 46) similarly understands love to be a matter of “one's overall emotional orientation towards a person—the complex of perceptions, thoughts, and feelings”; as such, love is a matter of having a certain “character structure.” Central to this complex emotional orientation, Badhwar thinks, is what she calls the “look of love”: “an ongoing [emotional] affirmation of the loved object as worthy of existence…for her own sake” (p. 44), an affirmation that involves taking pleasure in your beloved's well-being. Moreover, Badhwar claims, the look of love also provides to the beloved reliable testimony concerning the quality of the beloved's character and actions (p. 57).

There is surely something very right about the idea that love, as an attitude central to deeply personal relationships, should not be understood as a state that can simply come and go. Rather, as the emotion complex view insists, the complexity of love is to be found in the historical patterns of one's emotional responsiveness to one's beloved—a pattern that also projects into the future. Indeed, as suggested above, the kind of emotional interdependence that results from this complex pattern can seem to account for the intuitive “depth” of love as fully interwoven into one's emotional sense of oneself. And it seems to make some headway in understanding the complex phenomenology of love: love can at times be a matter of intense pleasure in the presence of one's beloved, yet it can at other times involve frustration, exasperation, anger, and hurt as a manifestation of the complexities and depth of the relationships it fosters.

This understanding of love as constituted by a history of emotional interdependence enables emotion complex views to say something interesting about the impact love has on the lover's identity. This is partly Rorty's point (1986/1993) in her discussion of the historicity of love (above). Thus, she argues, one important feature of such historicity is that love is “dynamically permeable” in that the lover is continually “changed by loving” such that these changes “tend to ramify through a person's character” (p. 77). Through such dynamic permeability, love transforms the identity of the lover in a way that can sometimes foster the continuity of the love, as each lover continually changes in response to the changes in the other.[14] Indeed, Rorty concludes, love should be understood in terms of “a characteristic narrative history” (p. 75) that results from such dynamic permeability. It should be clear, however, that the mere fact of dynamic permeability need not result in the love's continuing: nothing about the dynamics of a relationship require that the characteristic narrative history project into the future, and such permeability can therefore lead to the dissolution of the love. Love is therefore risky—indeed, all the more risky because of the way the identity of the lover is defined in part through the love. The loss of a love can therefore make one feel no longer oneself in ways poignantly described by Nussbaum (1990).

By focusing on such emotionally complex histories, emotion complex views differ from most alternative accounts of love. For alternative accounts tend to view love as a kind of attitude we take toward our beloveds, something we can analyze simply in terms of our mental state at the moment.[15] By ignoring this historical dimension of love in providing an account of what love is, alternative accounts have a hard time providing either satisfying accounts of the sense in which our identities as person are at stake in loving another or satisfactory solutions to problems concerning how love is to be justified (cf. Section 6, especially the discussion of fungibility).

Nonetheless, some questions remain. If love is to be understood as an emotion complex, we need a much more explicit account of the pattern at issue here: what ties all of these emotional responses together into a single thing, namely love? Baier and Badhwar seem content to provide interesting and insightful examples of this pattern, but that does not seem to be enough. For example, what connects my amusement at my beloved's embarrassment to other emotions like my joy on his behalf when he succeeds? Why shouldn’t my amusement at his embarrassment be understood instead as a somewhat cruel case of schadenfreude and so as antithetical to, and disconnected from, love?

Presumably the answer requires returning to the historicity of love: it all depends on the historical details of the relationship my beloved and I have forged. Some loves develop so that the intimacy within the relationship is such as to allow for tender, teasing responses to each other, whereas other loves may not. The historical details, together with the lovers’ understanding of their relationship, presumably determine which emotional responses belong to the pattern constitutive of love and which do not. However, this answer so far is inadequate: not just any historical relationship involving emotional interdependence is a loving relationship, and we need a principled way of distinguishing loving relationships from other relational evaluative attitudes: precisely what is the characteristic narrative history that is characteristic of love? Again, proponents of the emotion complex view need to provide a clearer, principled account of the relevant kind of pattern of emotional responses constitutive of love.

Source: http://plato.stanford.edu/entries/love/#5.2

Love as Emotion Complex

The emotion complex view, which understands love to be a complex emotional attitude towards another person, may initially seem to hold out great promise to overcome the problems of alternative types of views. By articulating the emotional interconnections between persons, it could offer a satisfying account of the “depth” of love without the excesses of the union view and without the overly narrow teleological focus of the robust concern view; and because these emotional interconnections are themselves evaluations, it could offer an understanding of love as simultaneously evaluative, without needing to specify a single formal object of love. However, the devil is in the details.

Rorty (1986/1993) does not try to present a complete account of love; rather, she focuses on the idea that “relational psychological attitudes” which, like love, essentially involve emotional and desiderative responses, exhibit historicity: “they arise from, and are shaped by, dynamic interactions between a subject and an object” (p. 73). In part this means that what makes an attitude be one of love is not the presence of a state that we can point to at a particular time within the lover; rather, love is to be “identified by a characteristic narrative history” (p. 75). Moreover, Rorty argues, the historicity of love involves the lover's being permanently transformed by loving who he does.

Baier (1991), seeming to pick up on this understanding of love as exhibiting historicity, says (p. 444):
Love is not just an emotion people feel toward other people, but also a complex tying together of the emotions that two or a few more people have; it is a special form of emotional interdependence.

To a certain extent, such emotional interdependence involves feeling sympathetic emotions, so that, for example, I feel disappointed and frustrated on behalf of my beloved when she fails, and joyful when she succeeds. However, Baier insists, love is “more than just the duplication of the emotion of each in a sympathetic echo in the other” (p. 442); the emotional interdependence of the lovers involves also appropriate follow-up responses to the emotional predicaments of your beloved. Two examples Baier gives (pp. 443–44) are a feeling of “mischievous delight” at your beloved's temporary bafflement, and amusement at her embarrassment. The idea is that in a loving relationship your beloved gives you permission to feel such emotions when no one else is permitted to do so, and a condition of her granting you that permission is that you feel these emotions “tenderly.” Moreover, you ought to respond emotionally to your beloved's emotional responses to you: by feeling hurt when she is indifferent to you, for example. All of these foster the sort of emotional interdependence Baier is after—a kind of intimacy you have with your beloved.

Badhwar (2003, p. 46) similarly understands love to be a matter of “one's overall emotional orientation towards a person—the complex of perceptions, thoughts, and feelings”; as such, love is a matter of having a certain “character structure.” Central to this complex emotional orientation, Badhwar thinks, is what she calls the “look of love”: “an ongoing [emotional] affirmation of the loved object as worthy of existence…for her own sake” (p. 44), an affirmation that involves taking pleasure in your beloved's well-being. Moreover, Badhwar claims, the look of love also provides to the beloved reliable testimony concerning the quality of the beloved's character and actions (p. 57).

There is surely something very right about the idea that love, as an attitude central to deeply personal relationships, should not be understood as a state that can simply come and go. Rather, as the emotion complex view insists, the complexity of love is to be found in the historical patterns of one's emotional responsiveness to one's beloved—a pattern that also projects into the future. Indeed, as suggested above, the kind of emotional interdependence that results from this complex pattern can seem to account for the intuitive “depth” of love as fully interwoven into one's emotional sense of oneself. And it seems to make some headway in understanding the complex phenomenology of love: love can at times be a matter of intense pleasure in the presence of one's beloved, yet it can at other times involve frustration, exasperation, anger, and hurt as a manifestation of the complexities and depth of the relationships it fosters.

This understanding of love as constituted by a history of emotional interdependence enables emotion complex views to say something interesting about the impact love has on the lover's identity. This is partly Rorty's point (1986/1993) in her discussion of the historicity of love (above). Thus, she argues, one important feature of such historicity is that love is “dynamically permeable” in that the lover is continually “changed by loving” such that these changes “tend to ramify through a person's character” (p. 77). Through such dynamic permeability, love transforms the identity of the lover in a way that can sometimes foster the continuity of the love, as each lover continually changes in response to the changes in the other.[14] Indeed, Rorty concludes, love should be understood in terms of “a characteristic narrative history” (p. 75) that results from such dynamic permeability. It should be clear, however, that the mere fact of dynamic permeability need not result in the love's continuing: nothing about the dynamics of a relationship require that the characteristic narrative history project into the future, and such permeability can therefore lead to the dissolution of the love. Love is therefore risky—indeed, all the more risky because of the way the identity of the lover is defined in part through the love. The loss of a love can therefore make one feel no longer oneself in ways poignantly described by Nussbaum (1990).

By focusing on such emotionally complex histories, emotion complex views differ from most alternative accounts of love. For alternative accounts tend to view love as a kind of attitude we take toward our beloveds, something we can analyze simply in terms of our mental state at the moment.[15] By ignoring this historical dimension of love in providing an account of what love is, alternative accounts have a hard time providing either satisfying accounts of the sense in which our identities as person are at stake in loving another or satisfactory solutions to problems concerning how love is to be justified (cf. Section 6, especially the discussion of fungibility).

Nonetheless, some questions remain. If love is to be understood as an emotion complex, we need a much more explicit account of the pattern at issue here: what ties all of these emotional responses together into a single thing, namely love? Baier and Badhwar seem content to provide interesting and insightful examples of this pattern, but that does not seem to be enough. For example, what connects my amusement at my beloved's embarrassment to other emotions like my joy on his behalf when he succeeds? Why shouldn’t my amusement at his embarrassment be understood instead as a somewhat cruel case of schadenfreude and so as antithetical to, and disconnected from, love?

Presumably the answer requires returning to the historicity of love: it all depends on the historical details of the relationship my beloved and I have forged. Some loves develop so that the intimacy within the relationship is such as to allow for tender, teasing responses to each other, whereas other loves may not. The historical details, together with the lovers’ understanding of their relationship, presumably determine which emotional responses belong to the pattern constitutive of love and which do not. However, this answer so far is inadequate: not just any historical relationship involving emotional interdependence is a loving relationship, and we need a principled way of distinguishing loving relationships from other relational evaluative attitudes: precisely what is the characteristic narrative history that is characteristic of love? Again, proponents of the emotion complex view need to provide a clearer, principled account of the relevant kind of pattern of emotional responses constitutive of love.

True Love and Chemistry: Exploring Myth and Reality

When you think about the qualities found in a true "soul mate" relationship, what one word comes up most often on the top of your list?

Is it CHEMISTRY? Probably.

Just the mention of this term conjures up powerful feelings and images for anyone who has ever been in or seeking a love relationship. It is often described as a feeling that leaves you breathless, excited and weak in the knees. Palms sweat, the heart races and the body tingles with nervous anticipation.

It is believed by virtually everyone that true love cannot exist without chemistry. Therefore, the conclusion most would-be lovers come to is that if they experience these intense feelings towards someone, they have the basis for an ideal and lasting relationship.

Right? Maybe not. For this definition of chemistry is limited to one's physical response to another person. It lacks an entire dimension that resides in our values, beliefs, personalities and worldview.

In order to know you have the right connection with a potential (or existing) partner, it's important to have a basic knowledge of what real chemistry consists of, instead of embracing only the myths that surround it. This can be difficult to do. This intense, physical passion is the stuff that Oscar winning movies and best-selling books are made of. So, take a step back for a minute and see if you recognize yourself in the following.

Sarah is a thirty something, very attractive and successful, professional female. She has been in a relationship for over a year with a man who is unfaithful, disrespectful and incapable (unwilling) to make any commitment to her. Yet, when he makes late night "booty calls", forgets her birthday, or stands her up repeatedly - she remains available and willing, in spite of her general unhappiness and upset over their "relationship". Why? "I think I have mistaken great sex for love. I feel this intense chemistry and physical intimacy when we are having sex, even though he offers me nothing else. Over time, it has left me unhappy and feeling badly about myself."

John is an attractive, intelligent, 30 something male who owns his own successful business. He's dating a woman that he thinks he is in love with. He has knowledge that she has been out with other men. She cancels dates and is often critical and emotionally distant. She refuses to discuss commitment or taking the relationship to the next level. Yet, she turns to John for emotional, physical and financial help whenever she feels she needs it. Why does John continue to see her? "She's beautiful and the sex is great". We have such strong physical chemistry. It's almost like an addiction for me. My friends can't stand her and even I know she's not really a "keeper", but it's hard to walk away.

These vignettes are great examples of how physical chemistry can be mistaken for the real thing. The attraction on one level is strong, yet these are not relationships that have the right elements to grow into happy and satisfying partnerships.

So, what is missing?

Kahlil Gibran defines it as "spiritual affinity". It's the hidden element of chemistry. It's when two beings meet and connect on a deeper level. It can only be felt in the heart and soul. It's about friendship, respect, humor and the feelings of warmth and contentment that come when you are in his/her presence.

People often report finding one without the other. This is understandably a cause of great frustration and confusion about whom should we choose and why. In order to understand this better, it is helpful to know how and when each facet of chemistry occurs.

Physical attraction (or lust) generally begins during our first contact with someone. It can DEVELOP into something more over time, yet some pull is there from the beginning. The chemical that results from this attraction (and intensifies it) is phenyl ethylamine - or PEA. It is a naturally occurring substance in the brain. Essentially, it is a natural amphetamine. It stimulates us and increases both physical and emotional energy. The attraction causes us to produce more PEA, which results in those dizzying feelings associated with romantic love. Another substance that is released by PEA is dopamine. This chemical increases a desire to be physically close and intimately connected.

When these chemicals are being secreted in larger doses, they send signals from the brain to the other organs of the body. If you wonder why you or someone is attracted to the "wrong" person, it may be because you are high on the physical response to these substances, which overwhelm your ability to use your head and exercise "good judgment and common sense".

"Spiritual affinity" develops over time and repeated contact. When these feelings begin to emerge, the brain produces endorphins. These are more like morphine and result in an increased sense of calm that reduces anxiety and helps to build attachment. As relationships move into this phase they are characterized by more comfort, commitment and friendship.

Generally speaking, all "soul mate relationships" require at least some measure of each of these. The important thing to remember is that they come in stages, which is not to say that the physical attraction passes as one moves into a deeper connection. However, it changes. We cannot sustain those intense emotions as we travel down the road to commitment and a shared life. However, in healthy relationships those moments of intensity can and do occur for brief intervals at intermittent times.

Remember not to confuse great sex or deep friendship with romantic love. Instead, look for a measure of both of these in your feelings for another. For then you have the ingredients that lasting love is made from.

FREQUENTLY ASKED QUESTIONS

Q. I am an attractive, professional and intelligent female. I see myself as someone who has good common sense and judgment. Yet, I have gotten myself into a relationship (of sorts) that is making me miserable. I have been seeing a guy for over a year. We have a fantastic sex life. We really connect and are in tune with each other this way. We also have fun together and seem to relate well on a number of levels. The problem? I have found out that he has been with two other women since we have been going out. I was under the impression that we are a couple and was shocked by this information, which came through a friend.

What do I do? I really like this guy and even have feelings of love. I know he cares about me, but has not wanted to discuss the issue, which has led us to an impasse. I don't understand why he feels the need to be with other women. I feel like a fool for not just dropping him and moving on. Any help with this would be appreciated.

A. His refusal to discuss it is a bad sign. I think you know this only too well. It appears that your impressions of how well you get along and relate to each other are accurate, at least on a certain level. You are very attracted to one another, etc. So, what's the problem? HIM.

There could be a number of possibilities that have to do with not only who he is, but also to his past experiences and views of commitment, etc. But the only issue that you need to focus on is his (apparent) inability to remain monogamous- at least with you. This is only a hunch, but there's a strong possibility here that he is one of those individuals who crave the feelings that come with the early and more physically exciting stage of attraction. This early time in a relationship brings that rush of adrenaline that causes the heart to race and produces a feeling of being "high".

Some people cheat on loving partners- whom they sometimes care deeply for- because of their addiction to those intense feelings. This is how some "good" marriages come apart or why some people report a lack of control over a behavior that they know is destructive to them and to those they love.

Regardless of why he does this- unless he sees this as a real problem that he wants to change- you have no control over his behavior. Therefore, you need to focus on your own physical and emotional well-being. Continuing an intimate relationship with him could be dangerous to your health and your self-esteem. I recommend that you take a break and give yourself some time. When you are ready to date someone new, you will know it. Until then, you can spend some time thinking about what you desire and need from a relationship and what you must have and won't tolerate from a future partner.

END NOTES

This issue was written to help you to have a clearer understanding of what REAL relationship chemistry is. When you have a good understanding of how you choose potential partners, it should help you to evaluate your choices better and make the right one for you. It is also helpful in understanding any problem you may be having in a present relationship.


by Toni Coleman, LCSW

Love on the Other Side of the Fence

We all have heard the old cliché, "The grass is always greener on the other side of the fence." So how do we feel about love on the other side of the fence? Is love on the other side of the fence better? In some cases, it is, but in many cases, it is not.

I have encountered many people, over the years, who find themselves in a new relationship after searching in greener pastures. These same people, however, eventually miss their old partner whom they know, in their heart of hearts, was the one for them. I recently read a letter, penned to Ann Landers by "Heavy-Hearted In Philly," who said:

"I would like to share my story because I know a lot of people think of their lives the way I thought of mine. Sometimes you feel lonely and unloved in a marriage, even after 23 years. You feel as if there has got to be more to life, so you set out to find someone who can make you blissfully happy. You believe that you have found that someone and decide he is exactly what you want. So you pack up and say goodbye to that 23-year marriage and all the friends you made when you were part of a couple. You give your children the option of coming with you or staying with their father. You live the glorious life for a few years and then a light bulb goes on in your head. You realize that you have exactly the life that you had before -- the only difference is that you've lost your friends, your children's respect and the best friend you loved and shared everything with for 23 years. And you miss him. You realize that love does not just happen; it must be nurtured through the years. You cannot undo what has been done, so you settle for a lonely and loveless life with emptiness in your heart. Ann, please print my letter so others will not give up something that is truly precious and let them know that they won't know how precious it is until they have thrown it away."

This woman from Philly, after 23 years of marriage, set out to find someone new to make her "blissfully happy." In my opinion, this is a very unrealistic expectation. We cannot expect a relationship or another individual to make us "blissfully happy." We have to be happy within ourselves, first and foremost. Establishing a relationship with the right person should only enhance our happiness in life. Philly says something very significant that I am sure she wished she had realized at the early stages of her marriage: "Love does not just happen; it must be nurtured through the years." If you are currently exploring the question, "Am I happy in my current relationship?" If you are currently single and asking yourself, "Am I ready for a relationship?" You need to understand what took this woman over 23 years to realize, so that you do not make the same mistake. We have to incorporate the art of loving into our daily lives, as individuals, and as part of a couple in a loving, committed relationship. We have to understand, as she found out much too late, that: "love does not just happen, it must be nurtured through the years." With this understanding, and while practicing the art of loving, you will be able honestly to answer some very important questions to yourself: "Are you the one for me?" and "Are you not the one for me?"

by Paul Mauchline