I watched a total eclipse of the sun on a sandy beech on the south western edge of England in August 1999. The clouds parted a minute before totality, and I together with family and strangers experienced the spontaneous, shared emotion, and immeasurable wonder of an all enveloping celestial event. Those on the highest cliff in Cornwall could still only see under half the distance to the edge of totality.
For a short time, the unconstrained awe and rapture of something bigger dispels our petty differences.
Touch is my fundamental sense. I feel through touch. Much of my sense of body is through touch. Touch was how I first explored the world. Touch allows me to experience everything between pleasure and pain, and provides a way for me to express my inner world and love.
Touch requires trust. If I sense touch is self-centred I withdraw and the same is true for another.
Touch is vital for my well-being, yet fraught with interpretation. With nature I touch without restraint.
Whether I love a person, living things, the place I find myself in, an action or interaction, my love is unconstrained by the brief moment of my being with.
Love is a lasting commitment to another: someone or something outside of myself that I have no choice but return to in my mind and heart. Love is reiterated, affirmed, internally and eternally insistent.
Perhaps I love as much when without as when with.