when we’re born, our bodies breathe


Many years ago, when I was on the road, staying in an overstuffed, overheated, teeny-tiny hotel room (I had a room so small, I had to go outside to change my mind), I flipped on the TV, and a man was talking.

I wasn’t in a great headspace, the musical I was doing was highly dysfunctional – tho quite popular and successful – and my guy was in another city. I don’t often turn on the TV but I did, and there was this man who spoke about love. Love. On TV.

I kept trying to turn it off – I know, “try” to do something, anything, you either do it or you don’t – but I did keep trying, thinking about trying, thinking about doing it, and he kept talking about love. Love. I grabbed a pen and paper and started taking notes, what he was saying felt revolutionary. And right.

I no longer have those notes – every now and then I purge, burn journals, move on – but today I was reminded of a book which puts forth a revolutionary idea: we don’t know how to love, the way we know how to breathe. Love isn’t instinctive, it’s learned. Here’s one of Buscaglia’s ideas:

Most of us continue to behave as though love is not learned but lies dormant in each human being and simply awaits some mystical age of awareness to emerge in full bloom. Many wait for this age forever. We seem to refuse to face the obvious fact that most of us spend our lives trying to find love, trying to live in it, and dying without ever truly discovering it.

Oh, right, did I mention that the guy on TV was Leo Buscaglia? Yeah.

Worth seeing, hearing, reading. Loving.

And in your local library, more likely than not.











Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s