Conversations For Transformation: Essays Inspired By The Ideas Of Werner Erhard

Conversations For Transformation

Essays By Laurence Platt

Inspired By The Ideas Of Werner Erhard

And More


True Gold

Santa Barbara, California, USA

March 29, 2009



"I know this much is true: you are gold, you're indestructible." ... Spandau Ballet

This essay, True Gold, is the sixth in a group of eleven about my daughter Alexandra:
  1. Alexandra
  2. Babe On The Freeway
  3. Light In The Night
  4. Alexandra II
  5. Santa Barbara
  6. True Gold
  7. Goleta Beach
  8. Getting Into Your World
  9. Fly Baby Bird!
  10. Celebration At Essaouira
  11. The Woman She Creates Herself To Be
in that order.

It is also the fourth in a group of ten written in Santa Barbara:
  1. Santa Barbara
  2. Unbelievable
  3. Give Me Money (That's What I Want?)
  4. True Gold
  5. Getting Into Your World
  6. You Say Stop: About Resisting Transformation
  7. The Cavalry's Not Coming
  8. On This Team Everyone's The Leader
  9. Fireside Chat
  10. The Next Best Thing
in that order.

It was written at the same time as I am indebted to my daughter Alexandra Lindsey Platt who inspired this conversation.




You're the possibility of love  with me.

There's nothing you expect of me to earn love with you. You don't throw down a gauntlet I'm supposed to jump over in order to qualify for your love. You're not waiting for me to rescue you nor to slay dragons for you. Around you, there's nothing I have to prove. You don't hold me to any standards of accomplishment nor to degrees of achievement, and you don't have an already picture  in place which you expect me to fit. All that stuff is secondary, probably irrelevant, when it comes to the generosity of who you're being with me.

I'm the possibility of "being  love" with you.

Listen carefully to what I just said, like you're tuning in to one specific drop of water in a babbling brook: being love  with you ... different than being in  love with you. Recreate it carefully for yourself. Language it slowly, again and again. Let it settle until you get it fully, effortlessly, easily, completely. Don't parse it. Don't analyze it. Don't dissect its grammar. Just grok  it (as Robert Heinlein may have said).

Paradoxically, being in  love with you really doesn't have much to do with you at all - nor with me either, for that matter. Furthermore, being  love with you doesn't require being in  love with you. As a matter of fact, being in  love with you only interferes  with being  love with you - it only gets in the way.

I've been in love before. A few times. Being in  love doesn't last.

Wait! Are you listening "Being in  love doesn't last" as the words of a cynic? If so, you don't get it. They're not. When it comes to love, if I'm anything at all beyond pragmatic, I'm a romantic. I'm speaking as a romantic when I say "Being in  love doesn't last", and when I say it, my emphasis is on the word "in".

So if being in  love doesn't last, then when it comes to love, what does last? When it comes to love, what lasts is "being  love". For the love which lasts, for the love which works, try on for size taking the "in" out of "I am in  love with you" when declaring love. Instead declare "I am love  with you".

Here's why being in  love doesn't last. Being in  love is a concept, in large part or even wholly chemistry  dependent, hormonal, pheromonal, accidental. It's automatic, autonomic. It owes a great deal of acknowledgement for its presence in the first place simply to human being's innate mechanical urge  to reproduce. And it's perfectly, innately  endowed with these great feelings and delicious sensations to make sure we're interested enough to want to.

We love being in  love. We're crazy about being in  love. I mean that quite literally: we're crazy  about being in  love. Consider this: when we don't differentiate something automatic from something we create ourselves, that's the very definition of "crazy".

There's no choice, no creativity, there's no responsibility, no authorship, no authenticity in being in  love. As wonderful as it is, being in  love happens when it happens whenever it happens, and it ends when it ends whenever it ends. It's a hormonal, pheromonal, accidental, automatic, autonomic, innate, mechanical, no choice survival driven  reproductive urge.

And when it ends, being in  love moves on ... fast. The female praying mantis  is known to bite her ex-mate's head clean off  in order to feed his carcass to her offspring. But don't be horrified by this seemingly callous and savage act: it's an automatic, innate, mechanical, no choice survival driven urge as well.

There's only one gift worth giving, and that's the gift of being with another in a way that they get who they really are, in a way that you're being  love with them which grants them the space to be being  love with you. Everything and anything else is simply so far down the list of impact, import, and priority as to render it an almost complete and total waste of time, effort, and energy.

When I'm with you, when you're with me, when it's just you and I  here with no one else around to distract, with no one else around to interfere, I'm clear the gift you are, the gift you bring, the gift you give  is the one gift worth giving. It's a privilege and a blessing being around you. It's my good fortune to know you.

You're awesome and I Love You. You're the real deal. You're true gold.



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