Danielle
10-18-2004, 09:30 PM
I had thought of love as an ideal if ever realized. I have been told that love, like faith, could move mountains, conquer evil, and put adversity to shame. Yet even when I seemed to be experiencing it, I found it transient, fragile, possessive, often cruel, consuming itself with the very passion that set it apart.
This was something that had always been, and would always be. Or so I thought. And then, suddenly, I began to hear about an unlimited love, or soulmates, people of all ages and descriptions talking about their soulmates with a glow in their eye.
I had seen people in love before, and know that state myself. So what was it that set soulmates apart? There was, I found, one telltale sign. This was its delicious urgency, as feeling of warm and instant familiarity, an overpowering impression of having known one another before. It was often consuming, yet always exciting. And it seemed a communicable state, intriguing others who wanted as much for themselves.
I soon learned that in speaking of soulmates, people were telling me of an eternal love out of misty past that had only to be remembered to be renewed.
But where did this memory come from? How were we to judge its validity? Some spoke of reincarnation, others of genetic memory, some of universal racial consciousness, akin to instinctual recall, or some other form of recollection we had no explanation for. If the soul was a spiritual essence, an energy force that never died, why could it not have shared and remembered a love as deep and meaningful as the soul itself?
Do Soulmates really exist?
This was something that had always been, and would always be. Or so I thought. And then, suddenly, I began to hear about an unlimited love, or soulmates, people of all ages and descriptions talking about their soulmates with a glow in their eye.
I had seen people in love before, and know that state myself. So what was it that set soulmates apart? There was, I found, one telltale sign. This was its delicious urgency, as feeling of warm and instant familiarity, an overpowering impression of having known one another before. It was often consuming, yet always exciting. And it seemed a communicable state, intriguing others who wanted as much for themselves.
I soon learned that in speaking of soulmates, people were telling me of an eternal love out of misty past that had only to be remembered to be renewed.
But where did this memory come from? How were we to judge its validity? Some spoke of reincarnation, others of genetic memory, some of universal racial consciousness, akin to instinctual recall, or some other form of recollection we had no explanation for. If the soul was a spiritual essence, an energy force that never died, why could it not have shared and remembered a love as deep and meaningful as the soul itself?
Do Soulmates really exist?