Love speaks
Two men were recently talking about me. The one suggested that the other expected me – the word love – to spread myself around like a harlot on Saturday night. He pointed out that the other called me into duty regarding how he felt about many people, food, places, a new home, a piece of art, a wine, or an animal. He signs many of his email or snail mail notes “with love J.” He treats me as if I have no intrinsic worth and keeps me in the paperclip tray on his desk or so it seems.
The man who was pointing this out at least has some respect and does not expect me to serve the masses of people, places or things. I do, after all, deserve some respect. It took me a long time to develop philautia for myself. Oh, you do not recall the word philautia to describe love of self. I suppose the phrase self-acceptance might have to be dragged out to approximate that word. English seems unable to recognize the nuances of my being. At least my Greek cousins, eros, philia, ludus, agape, pragma and philautia did not have to be called into service to do the duties which rightfully are assigned to an entire staff. After all, is the chief financial officer, head butler or general expected to organize, represent the company at formal dinners while cleaning out the toilets. Really? Yet, that is what it feels like to be me in this English language.
Since I have found philautia I have a business agent (actually the guy who was challenging the use of me). If you want my service, you are going to have to make an appointment and submit your proposal for my service. What? That is not convenient. Too bad. This is the price you pay for treating me as if I have no intrinsic worth. What are you left with you ask? How about: Your humble and faithful servant, very truly yours, affectionately, sincerely, I remain your most ardent admirer. Personally, I don’t care. I am not responsible for your laziness. I am no longer available. I love myself too much to be your all-purpose servant. There you have it, “Love loves himself.” I may write an ode to myself. Let’s see. How do I philautia myself? Let me count the ways.
399 words
Written March 9, 2016
Two men were recently talking about me. The one suggested that the other expected me – the word love – to spread myself around like a harlot on Saturday night. He pointed out that the other called me into duty regarding how he felt about many people, food, places, a new home, a piece of art, a wine, or an animal. He signs many of his email or snail mail notes “with love J.” He treats me as if I have no intrinsic worth and keeps me in the paperclip tray on his desk or so it seems.
The man who was pointing this out at least has some respect and does not expect me to serve the masses of people, places or things. I do, after all, deserve some respect. It took me a long time to develop philautia for myself. Oh, you do not recall the word philautia to describe love of self. I suppose the phrase self-acceptance might have to be dragged out to approximate that word. English seems unable to recognize the nuances of my being. At least my Greek cousins, eros, philia, ludus, agape, pragma and philautia did not have to be called into service to do the duties which rightfully are assigned to an entire staff. After all, is the chief financial officer, head butler or general expected to organize, represent the company at formal dinners while cleaning out the toilets. Really? Yet, that is what it feels like to be me in this English language.
Since I have found philautia I have a business agent (actually the guy who was challenging the use of me). If you want my service, you are going to have to make an appointment and submit your proposal for my service. What? That is not convenient. Too bad. This is the price you pay for treating me as if I have no intrinsic worth. What are you left with you ask? How about: Your humble and faithful servant, very truly yours, affectionately, sincerely, I remain your most ardent admirer. Personally, I don’t care. I am not responsible for your laziness. I am no longer available. I love myself too much to be your all-purpose servant. There you have it, “Love loves himself.” I may write an ode to myself. Let’s see. How do I philautia myself? Let me count the ways.
399 words
Written March 9, 2016
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