Self-love is a marketing ploy…

by P. Braithwaite

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The only thing I know for sure is that we’re all okay.

Beyond that…I’ve got nothing.

See, evangelical self-love used to be enough for me. It gave me fodder for countless blog posts, book ideas, and staccato poems, but there’s something beyond self-love…I’m certain of it.

For starters, I’m not entirely sure ‘self’ and ‘love’ can be joined so easily. Self-love, as a concept, puts limitations on love.

Love is dissolution of self; It is merging. Its is formlessness made manifest. Love is seeping out of self and communing with all there is. Love is rapture and reckoning.

Love is ego made liquid.

(The Beatles tell us love is all you need)

An ex-boyfriend once accused me of chasing love for the sake of love, and fuck it, maybe he was right. I love being in love like I love hot dog binges on Brooklyn beaches in the middle of a hazy summer. But love, in it’s purest form, is more than sunshine, dirty water, and nausea from cured meat. Love is self-forgetting and soul-remembering.

I suspect I’ve been preaching infatuation.

So this is an invitation to go deeper; I don’t have a destination in mind.

Let’s meander beyond the body — travel beyond fixed borders of “them and us” or “you and I.” I want to abandon self-love as a stand-in for entitlement. I want to move beyond addictions of doing only “what we love” to liberate the love that needs no circumstance.

Because the truth: Self…is love. And love is the sixth element…

Self-love is what ‘they’ use to make you buy shit you don’t need…Let’s leave the store. There’s nothing left to do…but live…from what we already are.

And so it is.

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