Welcome to Anatomy of the Male Mind! Our guest today is Australian writer John Warwick Arden. John’s going to spend some time with us exploring the topic of love. Are men capable of it? John begins his own personal journey into this topic here.
Let’s see what insights he’s achieved today. Hi, John!
So many reasons come to mind why I perceive that I know nothing of love.
I could blame my father.
I could blame the school playground.
I could blame society.
I could even blame red cordial. But the difficulty is, the propensity many humans have- not just men- for blaming others presupposes that we have no control over who we are, and this indeed predetermines our unwillingness and reticence to act on our own behalf, and to intervene in a pattern of behaviour we do not like, in order to change it.
For decades, I have had the luxury of blaming my drunken abusive father for his transgressions, but this has not helped me on iota to evolve.
At some point, I will have to take responsibility for my own evolution.
We begin with the answer. We stray, and then end up right back where we started.
Why do we stray??
How can I know that I was in love in the beginning?
How do I even know what love is??
Although I am not- nor do I wish to be- an essayist here, there are certain organic requirements that pertain as much to a blog as to an essay.
For example, I feel duty bound to define my terms.
I cannot write a series of installments questioning whether or not I am capable of love, without first ‘defining my terms’.
I am not going to post the dictionary definition; you are not helpless.
You can do that yourself.
And even if I did, I doubt I would agree with it unreservedly.
My heart defines love.
And my definition of love as I remember it, can be done by going back to the origin of loving feelings as a child…
From my distant past, there are hints that I did know something of love.
Moments. Fragments. Brief glimpses…snatches of love.
Not the real course of love, obviously–the ability to love and hold and kiss and cry for one you have spent a lifetime with–but snapshots of love.
Flashes in the dark night skies of my life.
I think when I was very young, I WAS capable of love.
And, over the years, this capacity was something I lost- the reasons for which are many and varied, & I hope to cover in future writing.
Funnily enough, all I ever really wanted was to be in love; which is unusual for a man. It sounds more like a woman’s thing.
I have always been fascinated by women, even from an early age, and suspected the feminine characteristics of my personality were more pronounced than usual; call it a kind of empathy with the female gender, for I was always conscious, even as a little boy, of the fascination I had for women and their unique gifts, and that fascination has remained intact inside me, sometimes extremely well camouflaged, waiting patiently to emerge again from hiding.
Which is one of the reasons I feel compelled to write about it. Perhaps it is a natural appreciation for the feminine, or even maternal archetype, or maybe it is something even deeper than that; but in a way, as I come to terms with my feminine side, and my preoccupation with love, I also understand more fully how that predisposition toward, and the fervency of my intensive search for love is woven irrevocably into what I consider the core of my masculinity.
I had always been looking for love.
I remember I must have been about six or seven years old, and I was playing kissey chasey in the schoolyard of the primary school. I seem to remember, I was not being kissed or chased very much. I did a lot of running about trying to look attractive, but to little effect.
This did not change for most of my adult life.
I had almost given up hope of being chased or kissed, when in resignation, I leant against the fence near the adventure playground, wondering where everybody had gone. It would not to be the last time in my life I would look around and wonder that.
All of a sudden, a girl came from out of nowhere, and threw me up against the fence. I remember saying to myself “All right!!” unable to contain myself, and scarcely able to believe my luck. This girl was a new girl–I had never seen her before–and she planted one on me.
And she disappeared. And I never saw her again.
Or maybe I did; I was in hospital a few years later, recovering from some minor surgery and in the children’s ward, there was a girl a few beds over from me. That girl and I would spend the long recuperative hours together, wandering the hospital in our pyjamas, or we would sit propped up against the old hospital oil heater, talking, and laughing.
And when I left the hospital, I never saw her again.
Or maybe I did; a few years later, in high school. I was doing a cadet course over a long weekend, and there were a group of visiting cadets from other schools around the state, also participating. In that group, there was one girl; and that one girl was drawn to me. Of all the boys doing the course, she was drawn to me. I remember spending time with that girl outside course hours; we would take walks, talk, and get to know each other.
I think, gradually, we were falling in love.
I remember especially one night, we were out walking, and it was cold; she did not have a jumper, so I gave her mine. It was green, and woolly, and I remember it looked really great on her. And we sat, in the TV room, watching “Butch Cassidy and The Sundance Kid.” I recall the distinctive, romantic music, which I knew was nostalgic, even though I was not really old enough to have any idea of nostalgia.
And when we parted, I kept that jumper, and didn’t wash it; I would hold that jumper, and smell it, to help me remember her. Gradually, as days passed, and turned into weeks, that smell disappeared from the fabric of the jumper, as did the tune from my mind; as much as I tried to hold onto the smell, the tune, and the memory of that girl, I could not. I was not strong enough. And I lost her forever.
But it didn’t stop me looking for her; In fact I looked for that girl pretty much the rest of my life.
For that sense of LOVE ever since.
Because love- quite frankly…seems to me to be something I have not experienced in a long time.
Love–to me–is HOME.
***
Thanks, John!
RU Students, have you ever experienced young love and lost it? Did you ever see the individual again?
Join us on Friday to hear what author Keena Kincaid has to say about how secrets motivate characters at the deepest level.
John’s Bio:
John’s been a farmer, librarian, and a police officer for ten years with a Chief Commissioner’s commendation for community service. He’s currently a writer with one film credit, and one in production. John’s working on a series of three books on the masculine perspective of love, truth, relationships, etc. He loves literature, film, art, music, animals and has not given up hope that people will one day work it all out…
Carrie Spencer, writing romantic comedy and goofy middle-grade, personifies her alter-ego - 
John -
Thanks for being with us again.
As I read your post today, I wondered if you’re not searching for a certain innocence and easiness in your quest for love. That exciting connection we make when a relationship is young and new is so compelling. Yet, as adults, love becomes much more complex than walks and talks. Perhaps it shouldn’t, but it does. Love includes the mire of other (familial) relationships, sickness, depression, job changes, vacations, births. The list is infinite.
Perhaps the simplicty of feeling you describe is what we often overlook in “adult love.” Maybe we should pay closer attention to that sweet dab of icing, but I believe were the whole cake made of that icing, we would find that type of love would melt under the heat of everyday life.
Wishing you the best,
Kelsey
Posted by KelseyBrowning | April 28, 2010, 12:34 amJohn,
Very moving post. I was taken aback when I hit your bio, expecting you were a poet or had a literary education of some sort. Police Officer wasn’t even close to anything I expected–which brings us to the problem, doesn’t it?
Expectations and stereotypes in today’s society. “Real men” aren’t expected to express their need for love. I find myself telling my own sons to “man up” now and then, yet also tell them it’s okay to cry. Confusing messages…?
Kelsey makes a very good point about the difficulties of adult love–real love. Love’s hard. I made this comment on Laurie London’s post yesterday (it didn’t show up-hope this one does!), but I loved her line that anything worthwhile is worth taking yourself out of your comfort zone. Real love makes us vulnerable, it takes us out of our comfort zone where can protect ourselves and keep our secrets.
Falling in love is the easy part. Staying there is the tough part–but it’s worth it!
That’s enough from Jessi, the love doctor. Now for a question. Your bio also says you have one film credit and one in production. Can you tell us about these?
Thanks~~
Posted by Jessica Bacon | April 28, 2010, 6:33 amJessi –
Sorry – we’ve been plagued by spammers lately, and your message may have been a casualty as I was trying to get rid of the garbage yesterday.
My apologies!
Kelsey
Posted by KelseyBrowning | April 28, 2010, 7:00 amJohn,
As always, thanks for sharing your story. It takes a great deal of courage to put your innermost thoughts and feelings on public display.
Jessi–
I’m sorry about your message. I checked our Spam folder, but it’s not there. Technology, oi!
Thanks, Tracey
Posted by TraceyDevlyn | April 28, 2010, 6:52 amHi John. Thank you for another thought provoking post. I agree with Kelsey (as I often do!). Love, in its early stages, is truly wonderful. There’s an ease to it that is addicting. But then, over time, life starts getting in the way. You have to make the effort to keep the love alive because there will be down times. I think love, like anyting else, needs to be nurtured.
Someone once told me as long as there are more ups than downs, you know you have a good marriage. I believe that. I believe the down times make the relationship stronger.
Good luck on your quest!
Posted by Adrienne Giordano | April 28, 2010, 1:03 pmAfternoon John..
Beautiful writing as always. =) Best of luck in your journey!
carrie
Posted by Carrie | April 28, 2010, 2:51 pmDear Kelsey,
I suspect you’re right. I haven’t had a relationship long enough to test that, & I might never have; I’m not getting any younger. I think looking back on these instances- and others I will mention in my next installment- actually serves as simple reassurance to me that yes, I did indeed experience love. It was a long time ago, certainly, but at this time when I wonder, it affords me some small comfort.
Gives me hope to battle on.
It might be the only evidence I have. You know the thing about ‘give me the child, and I’ll give you the man? I find it strangely heartening to hold onto ANY sense that I loved- even that ephemeral, naive childish love.
Dear Jessica,
You raise an interesting point. Mixed messages indeed. Do i man up, or allow my emotions in? I guess I like to think of myself as the warrior/poet archetype, but in truth I was once upon a time merely a brute with a badge and gun who could string a few words together.
This process now- my key responsibility- is simply to find my way of being- not what society, or women expect of me- but finding who I truly am, what I believe, how I can best serve, and best love; and to be at peace with that. I am getting there.
The films? Yes, I am shooting a film in OZ in August in the Northern Territory, which is essentially a journey into the dark heart of the desert, and the dark heart of man. It’s a key topic for me. I might not find an answer, but I will never stop clamboring through the labyrinthine maze of masculine confusion. Transcendence is my aim…evolution…I can only try. I would hate to die wondering why I left so many stones unturned.
Dear Adrienne,
Thank you. I like that. I suppose in the end, I was the kind of man who bailed at the first sign of trouble, and hence never stuck around long enough to reap the rewards of patience and persistence.
I suspect I was not the first male to behave like this- nor will I be the last. And it is scarcely the domain of males exclusively. Of course, all this is academic; the fact remains, I am paying for my impatient nature with my loneliness, & the hours of reflection time where I can at leisure review my past, & sit still while it plagues me.
Payback is a sumbitch.
NB: I take the opportunity to explore the issues here mainly to at least attempt to live a better life, try to be a better man, try to behave with some integrity, some consistency, and some sustainability, & put my soul to rest of all the hatred, anger, fear, insecurity, that I might one day love properly, and well.
It’s not impossible. It is a challenge, for there are many who have a stake in the failure of men like me in this quest, but I have faced worse foes.
At least here, I feel I am amongst friends.
Dear Carrie, thank you.
And Tracey, thank you for the opportunity to be heard.
Posted by John Warwick Arden | April 28, 2010, 7:09 pm