On this note I brought a bottle of wine from the cellar the very next evening and played the same symphony again from an old recording by the Berlin Philharmonics.
I repeated that celebration of truth many times thereafter, whenever my spirit needed uplifting. Whenever things had become too glum, it was good to remind myself of the truth.
It happened during one of those continuing celebrations, when I listened to the slow movement of Brahms' Number One, once more, I realized that this wonderful truth that I celebrated was really a universal truth. The truth of Anton's love that I celebrated resulted from a principle that is reflected in all love. What I understood about Anton's love, I realized was also true about Heather's as well. The love that had unfolded between us was rooted deeply in Heather's heart and in my own, and bound us as one with the flow of our appreciation of our humanity that we all shared. The bonds that this love had forged during our first days together when nothing else seemed to matter, were still there. Those bonds of love were still true, and were as secure as they had been then when they were forged with the deepest affection.
So what did it matter, really, that all the countless denials and fears of isolation and self-isolation had stood in the way of the full unfolding of this forever truth? What did it matter? Denials didn't change the truth, nor would they ever. The truth was there to be acknowledged and to be celebrated.
Suddenly I had to laugh at myself. What an idiot I had been in respect to Heather! I had known the truth about our love. I had understood its substance to be true, just as I had explained the reality of it to Anton that evening in Moscow. And yet, I had denied the very same reality about Heather's love so many times, for years, by being glum about it, even to the point of actually enticing Heather to recreate what seemed to have been lost, which I should have realized had not been lost in truth. The bonds that love have forged remain forever. That's what I knew. These bonds only need to be honored, so that one does not break them with one's 'blind sighted' mentality. Isn't that what Steve had also said, or implied, when he had talked about the Decalogue that night in Leipzig?
I had been denying all of that. I had become the king of denial myself, its patron saint. How stupid of me!
I decided to change that. I decided to break the chain of denial right there and then, and to fully celebrate all those bonds of love that have brought us together into a joyous caring unity. I realized that the same that was true about Anton and Heather was true also about Sylvia and the love that had bound us almost from the first day that we met. Circumstances may have forged chains of denial, but those chains were superficial. Chains of denial cannot touch the truth. Can darkness touch the light? I realized that the opposite is true, that light can eliminate darkness.
I realized that this kind of thinking and accepting the truth would have to govern my life so that I could rejoice in an acknowledgment of love that is full and complete, for which only the evidence has been lacking, but not the substance of truth. I realized that a principle is imperative. Nothing else matters.
I also realized that I could fully celebrate the reality and the immediacy of the bonds of love that had been forged so long ago, that had bound me not only with Anton and Heather, but also with Steve and Ushi, and Erica, Helen, and Olive, even Tara, because that truth that had unfolded had not veined. Truth does not diminish. I realized that the love that I was now able to honor existed as powerfully as a reality in my own heart, as in theirs, and in my own thoughts, as in theirs, just as it had been so from the beginning. I realized that this wonderful principle is universal, as every principle has to be and is. I realized that love could exist only on a universal basis, because its principle is infinite and universal. Wasn't that what Steve had also said or implied, I wondered?
In any case, I realized that I could trust truth to be true, because such is the nature of its principle. Universality is its eternal platform, no matter how strongly we tend to deny this or convince ourselves otherwise.
As the days of realization passed into weeks and months, my life seemed to unfold more and more like the slow serene movement of Brahms' Symphony Number One, after which it was now patterned. Also, the realization dawned that the actual forms of the unfolding of love weren't all that important. I became contend to let be whatever the circumstances would allow.
I realized that the most important aspect of our loving is that, which unfolds as self-love in our heart, and flows out from there to embrace the world. The love that we carry, is what makes us rich. Didn't Steve tell us the same thing when he said that our glasses must always be full and overflowing? That's what the second movement of Brahms' symphony signified to me.
It appeared to me that the personal response that one gets from loving isn't all that important, really. I realized that the important thing is that we love. I wondered if the Swedish woman whom I had met in Suchumi had recognized that. She had found it to be sufficient, just to love.
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