in English

Love’s Day: A Letter to My Intended Lady

Love’s Day: A Letter to My Intended Lady

Rome

My dear,

This to mark a note of love for you, as I may never explain it fully, nor experience it fully, nor demonstrate it enough. It is that interior flow of emotions that seem to say that our alchemy works together.

Love does not speak enough. I do not speak enough. I cannot speak enough.

Love fights, fights terribly, against uncertainty, the future, fear, solitude, jealousy, appropriation, and departure.

A real lover tries to live the great feelings he feels but he is in constant fear of losing the lover. A real lover can become a coward, a frail man in front of a treasure he admires fondly, and vice versa if it is from a woman to man, or reciprocated.

Human beings are different, and they may have different levels of love expressions at different stages in their lives.

It is not here that I shall speak of such things, for which volumes can be written. I want to say few words for now, and maybe more later. Past letters have expressed some of these ideas, and so shall do future letters.

Transcendence or spirituality has taught me a lot about how to respect and love. And all my life is marked by these teachings. I live with concepts. I live with order in words. I have to situate myself in the world, to know my place, capacities, weaknesses, and meaning in life.

Infinite love that I want to share and like to be shared with me has to have a source of infinity. For me, that source is spirituality that links this world and some possible other world that enriches this one. Human world is inspiring, but a world beyond us is more inspiring, because it gives energy of more love, more responsibility, more consistency, more order, if thought of intelligently. Metaphysics can be dangerous if not rationalized enough.

Love without ethics, without infinity, without spirituality, can be weak, so weak, so fragile, so dry, I think.

Love based on ethics can last, be eternal, and can grow stronger, can face difficulties.

Love without ethics may be ephemeral, short, and uncertain.

Those who know their place in the world can love truly, immensely, profoundly.

Those who do not know their place in the world can also love truly, but their finite world makes their love not profound enough, according to me. Profundity is key in love. It should be deep, very deep, not easy to shake.

Love is a mystery, and I would like to live this mystery and discover it with my love for life.

My lady is that who is not like me, but knows me, and appreciates me the way I am. She is that which transcends me, and that which elevates me. Superficiality is all around, and it does not attract me. It does not talk to me in depths.

My lady is my life investment. My lady is immensely rich inside. She is beautiful, stylish, intelligent, spiritual, capable and independent.

My lady thinks of me whether I am with her or not. My lady preserves me in my physical absence, and teaches our kids what we agree to teach them together when I am absent.

My lady is independent, but her independence is incomplete without mine, and without me. Though she can decide alone, she consults with me, because she respects my views. I enjoy her independence, and I enjoy more her respect of my voice and opinion. I do not take decisions without her views. I like her when she challenges me, lovingly, not arrogantly.

My lady is myself in a female shape. She treats me better than I treat her, though I assume that I treat her the best way possible. We compete in who treats the other best. We practice patience, generosity and excellence (sabr, ithar and ihsan) as much as we can.

Our bodies are for each other. We learn from each other, and cover each other where we seem weak or imperfect.

Our souls have taught us that our bodies are not the essence of our union, but the external manifestation of this union where body beauty counts substantially. The essence of our union is our souls, our emotions, our thoughts, our care, and our bodies are part of this chain. Beauty is important. We love beauty, style, order, and colors. We love ourselves and the world.

My lady and me love our families, friends, and the world. We try to help as much as we can. We know we cannot change the world, but we try to change ourselves for better, and slowly do service to the world around us.

My lady and me are idealists, and we know this can cause us trouble. But we try to control ourselves, and live both this world and our ideal worlds with what we have.

We try to be content by teaching ourselves the wisdoms of contentment. At the same time, we work hard for good living.

My lady and me work together to make the difficult life outside more habitable under one roof.

My lady and me argue constantly. We are not passive. We are not easy going. We argue, but with love. Wisdom is important in our life. It comes with listening and mutual respect of our different views.

I do not wish to live even one day after my lady. I want to live as long as she lives. I cannot tolerate a life without her. I am romantic. I am idealist. I am sensitive. Yes, I am, and I have the right to dream of a good life with my compassionate, beautiful, understanding, intelligent, and capable lady.

I want to grow up with her, and live this world when she leaves it.

I am stubborn, and sometimes a very difficult person, and I will always apologize for this, and I try to be a better husband, a friend, and a life companion to you.

I want you to speak to me, to write to me, to correct me, and enrich me with all the capacities you have.

I ask you for forgiveness for the past, present, and future mistakes from my side. They were made for good intentions, or made because of ignorance and fear.

“I profess the religion of love,” says the great Rumi. “Be good to see the world good/beautiful,” says Ilya Abi Madi. “Look at the beauty of a woman to see the greatness of God,” says Ibn Arabi. I belong to this great tradition.

I wait for your company, and long for it, my dear.

Till then, impress me, world!

Yours

Morocco World News 14/02/2016

The letter is an excerpt from the unpublished fictitious collection “Letters to My Beloved Ones” 2005  – , Mohammed Hashas.

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