Unbelievable Crazy Love

When crazy is a good thing

And you’ll never be bored again

Marta Luzim, MS

Love makes no sense….if you try to rationalize love, make it conform to what is right or wrong, then you will go dead and live your life making a living and mowing the lawn.  Love can be pain as well as ecstasy…. And it can lift you beyond the heavens and drop you like a bag of garbage.  But either way, we can never stop loving.  Love is in everything.  Even the old lady with arthritic fingers and nose hairs hanging out of her nostrils can be loved. If we try to control love, try to make it feel or look like the way we want it, then it will kill you.  Love is vindictive when you try to change HER.  Love is crazy.  But we have learned to be civilized to some degree, or have we? Unbelievable things.  Ten steps to love. Twelve ways to communicate, how to get along with another.  Unbelievable and unattainable.  All we can ever do is make a choice to stay or not to stay…Our pain is the emptiness of our own insatiable need to love and be loved.  And that can never be fulfilled as human beings.  So what is love and marriage?  It is a safety net from the insanity of this thing called love.

Tonight, the world rests gently on its axis, revolves and makes love to the stars.  Unbelievable things.

The wind blows, the flowers breathe, and the trees eat their bark with gusto. Unbelievable.

My  nail breaks.  I scream, look for a file.  Rip that sucker off with my teeth.  The nail is ragged, uneven, and doesn’t fit in with the rest of my nails.  It is a freak.  An outcast.  Unbelievable love for the broken nail.

What is love?  What is it? Do you ache to know?  My heart pops out of my chest, beat, beat, beating… the drum of love, the heartbeat to the gods.  And then there is love. Love of what?  Love of another, the one who sets you afire, the one who inspires you to live.  Unbelievable feelings of love.

Can anyone, ANYONE, glue love to the heart, make it stay there for life? Do you want a Love that makes your heart sleep with certainty, or a love that makes your blood race down to your toes?

I once knew a woman who loved two men.  Forever, and ever she loved them.  She danced this split of love and battled its tug of war.  She was wild like the wind, and crazy like the woman who counts her fingers over and over, until she knows she exists.   She never loved in a quiet way.  It always stormed through her, like a restless fire, never knowing if she would burn the house down.

So what am I talking about?  I’m talking about passion.   A passion that brings you to your knees and makes you cry out for more and more love.  Never-ending.  Unbelievable love.  Today they call that co-dependency.   Ancient times they called it the nectar of the Gods, the sweet juices of the genitals, the heartache of fools.  A fool for love can make you miserable.  Tossing, turning, yearning for the phone to ring.   The door to open, the emptiness to be filled.  Love yourself. Love yourself is the greatest love of all. If this is so why do we yearn so for another? Or yearn for God?  Or something other than ourselves? Unbelievable things of life.

Crazy is not in fashion anymore.  At one time crazy was lust and art.  It was what made the world move forward.  Not the crazy ones who conquer and destroy.  The crazy ones who make you sit up and take notice of the curve of a wrist, or the way someone sipped on a straw, or the way one runs in circles chasing after their tail hoping to find the gold ring attached to it.

I once worked with a schizophrenic who believed Hitler was her father.  I said, “Really?”  And just by acknowledging her reality, she said, “No. Not really.”

Is it unbelievable that we can fly?  Is it unbelievable we can vibrate to the sound of a violin?  Is it unbelievable that we can mourn so, that our soul touches God?  Unbelievable lust in a grieving soul who wraps herself around your ankles and begs for mercy.

Instead we live in desperation.  Afraid to let on that we can go crazy any minute.  Drive off a cliff and feel the freedom of total recklessness.  What am I saying?   Love and Marriage…children, two car garage, movie and dinner on a Saturday night….is that rote, like quoting a passage from the Bible because you are told that is what you are supposed to do? Feel dead as the words pour out like steel and ice?  How do we stay so alive that our nails cry out to be touched? We are alienated from passion.  We hold back our truths.  We are poker faced, hide our craziness, hide our lust; our need to be consumed, drown in our own drool, our panting and scratching to find a way to OZ.  Find the red ruby slippers. Is that normal?  Act normal?  How boring is that?

So marriage and love become a formula.  And 50% of all marriages end with shoes and clothes being thrown out the window.  Hating each other like arch enemies, because we can’t surrender our hearts to the uncontrollable vulnerability of being unbelievably crazy, crazy in love.