The day before yesterday, my partner was smoking out of the bedroom window. He sat up, kneeling on his drum throne with one arm outside in the white-cast, early evening mist. It was one of those gorgeous, cool, cloudy days that followed two weeks of thick muggy heat. The day itself, even down to the weather, was a relief. Unlike our usual easygoing routine, him and I had spent most of the day working. The night before, I’d prepped a to-do list to keep us focused and we’d crossed almost everything off; we’d arranged the our set of our upcoming gig, ran a last-minute rehearsal with Justice and his drum machine, and he even got around to micing up his drum set to record some samples (which was a bit of a hassle).
He leaned slightly on the sill to keep himself balanced and turned his head towards me, an earnest look on his face, his figure slightly silhouetted by the light of the window. I sat on the edge of the bed, the memory foam mattress compressing under my weight and a PlayStation controller in my hand when he told me he loved me for the first time.
I paused the game and sat up from my spot on the bed, the foam regaining shape as I walked around the drum set to give him a kiss “I love you too”, I said.
I wouldn’t describe how I felt as intense or fiery. I felt as I always do when I’m happy or overjoyed, so I guess you could say I felt normal. Later in the day, I thought it funny that those three words didn’t come after sex or deep conversation, just a productive day. There was no heat in the moment, just a steady flow of peace, creativity, and fun that began from the moment we woke up until we were tucked tightly together come evening time.
There is something extremely special about being your true self with another. It is special for your spirit, special for your heart. I didn’t say partner because deep connections exist inside and out of romantic relationships. There is immense peace in existing as you are as part of something bigger, whether that be a partnership, vocation, family, friend group, or community.
Rainer Maria Rilke says it best in his seventh letter in Letters to a Young Poet;
“Love does not initially mean merging into, surrendering to, and becoming something else (for what would that mean? a union with something unresolved, unfinished, still subordinate?). It is instead an ideal invitation for the individual to ripen, to become something of their own, to become a world-- a world unto oneself for the sake of another. It is a great presumptuous demand on the individual, choosing that person and summoning them to something vast. Only in this sense, as a demand that they work on themselves (“harken and hammer day and night”), can young people use the love that is given them.” (Rilke, 42)
That moment, between him and I, was made extra special by those three words. But it was innately special because our relationship, married with our creative work calls us to something more than what we are as individuals. We can be ourselves and create a peaceful setting to work alongside each other on things we are passionate about. We are far from perfect but our presence in each other’s lives allows us to hold each other accountable to each other’s goals so that we might reach the artistic echelon we’ve both dreamt of all our lives.
Yesterday while visiting Conrad and Ray at their apartment, Conrad and I spoke briefly about the novelty of meeting others who vibrate on the same frequency as oneself and how it never gets old. In a voice note he sent me just moments ago recalling our conversation, he said; “The cool thing about being an artist, when we stay true to ourselves and true to our art, is that we are attracted to other people that are just like [us].” (for context Ray creates visual art among other things and Conrad a curator of sounds as well as a producer). I see them both as brilliant creatives who have a wonderful talent for bringing people together. Just being around them too, calls me to something bigger, and inspires me to continue on the path I’m on; they inspire me to truly harken and hammer day and night.
And so, love is real. Very real. But I think we are only capable of feeling love as deeply as we know ourselves. Love itself isn’t the feeling, it’s the peace that comes from the action we take in our everyday life. Peace in the mundane. Peace in a mad world.