My narrative non-fiction on love, To be able to love, is published only in Finnish.
It is – by definition – a combination of storytelling and facts on love. Analytical thinking and conversations with other sources and references meet stories of love and fear.
I was intrigued with the question what is love – and why is it often so difficult? Isn’t it a fact that we all want to love – but if so, why don’t we all love?
When we think and speak of love and fear, we tend to make both of them abstract and big. Something almost untouchable. Abstract and difficult to look at. Metaphorical blob. That is why I wanted to find the most concrete forms of fearing love and resisting love: our bodies and our anatomical and physiological facts. The structures and ruptures of connection.
When we look at the structures of pathologies we have in loving and connecting it is easier to see love. To look at love through and between the lines of fear makes it more visible.
The most precise definition of love would be that of connection. Love is connecting. Connection happens always simultaneously to yourself and others – you cannot connect to others if you are disconnected to yourself. Connecting is always dynamic. Love is always on the move. It is never static, stagnated, stuck.
Probably the greatest illusion of love is the expectation of a relationship or a space with no difficult feelings at all. Of having no more troubled moments. Only having the bliss of being there. In love, on love. Paradoxically this might be the case – if you surrender to dynamic connection.
Optimistic conclusion is this: if you agree on the dynamic connection, you find the haven you are looking for.