I was deeply moved by a story of Narcissus that was described in the foreword of The Alchemist. Described was a tale of the forest goddess weeping because she missed Narcissus once he died of drowning in the lake after falling in from staring at his reflection in the water. The lake spoke to the forest and said it wouldn’t weep because the lake saw the beauty that lay within himself through the eyes of Narcissus that peered onto its water daily. That shared experience from Narcissus’ eyes opened the lakes soul, its spirit, it seemed happy and content with itself only by sharing a gaze into another’s loving eyes. Even after Narcissus was gone.
Is love that simple? Or should I say - could love be that simple?
I’m no expert on Narcissus, but I thought he was an asshole? But have we got him all wrong? Was he simply meditating on the beauty that he knew existed within himself? And perhaps we all call him a bit obsessive and shallow because we haven’t, nor don’t, take the time to do (or come to even practice) the spiritual work it would take to dedicate your days, your life, to staring into your own reflection and believe yourself to be so beautiful that there is nothing you’d rather do with your time.
Many of us do meditate. We exercise. We run that shit out. Churn it up, cry it out, let it go. But there’s more and more and it keeps coming. We live toxic lives and spend time with shitty people in dream killing environments.
BUT!!! The second we fall in lust with another person we become obsessed and almost possessed by them. You’re captivated by their beauty, their light, the touch, the kisses, the sex. If momentum keeps going that lust will then turn into needing their smell next to you more than your morning coffee. More than your gym routine. You’d rather lay there in each others arms for 4 minutes longer than put on your usual face before running out the door.
Their body imprint on the white sheets hurts in your chest because it means they aren’t next to you. A hair you find on your pillow would normally disgust you but your lips creep into a silent smile, you pick it up like a robin’s egg, so fragile and precious. Love, desire, care and home.
You no longer need the sun to shine. It’s sitting bright right next to you. Fuck, it penetrates you. They’re enough. You become each others life. Each others everything.
I can only wonder if Narcissus would have taken eyes off himself and used them to find as beautiful a partner as he. How would his life would have turned out? Maybe he still had self work to do. His sitting. His quiet.
The fact is, that he died in what I can only assume was ease and peace, maybe even grace. Who can use those words to describe their experiences with relationships? A marriage? Their friendships? But more importantly with our own reflections and emotions associated? How dare we expect love from others when we can’t even express love to our very being. To our own eyes, the depths of our presence, gratitude to our bodies that seem to run on magic.
Maybe Narcissus was onto something. We should contemplate our reflections in a selfish manner. We’ve all been taught that he drowned because he was so focused on how good looking he was. Maybe he was ready to go. We assumed the worst of Narcissus from only what we could see was happening. But what we see is not the truth. It’s how we feel, it’s trusting our intuition and following that truth. The only way to what I’ll call, life's fulfillment.
I want a fulfilling life. I feel as though life is love and love is life. I want to share those beliefs with a partner who is ready to share the spiritual work that becomes a balance of love and life.
Are you ready?