The Harka reference comes from a bingeworthy drama called Britannia. Look, I'm not saying it's great but David Morrissey and Zoe Wanamaker are in it and they are both good actors. Anyway, there are these two guys, the Varen and Harka. The Varen is the leader of the Druids and Harka was his brother and is known as the Dead Man. Harka says the best way to destroy someone is by using love.
Harka uses the love the Chosen One feels for a young fisherman to put her off her path. Basically, he gets one of his deluded followers - another good actor who is very funny - to kill the young fisherman. The Chosen One, Cait, is so hurt and angry that she goes off the rails.
Anyway, this is not quite how I feel about love. My issue with love is that I am REALLY bad at it. In fact, not sure I can do it. I was thinking, as I brushed my teeth, that I do not love anyone unconditionally. This arose as I was feeling, goodness knows why these thoughts arose in that moment, guilty.... oh, actually I do know. OK, step back.
Thursday night, I couldn't sleep and had to get up at the crack of sparrow's fart on Friday. So, on Friday I was very tired and the drive home was awful. The next day I had said I would help Leanne fencing her field. I really wanted to help. But in the car, I was fuming and exhausted and fretting about the trip to Austria. I texted and said I couldn't make it. And I realised that I never help anyone and I am selfish and useless etc. Then I was thinking how I let my friend Linda down, and my dog and my horses and my sister and every partner I have ever had. And every friend. Then I thought about everyone, all the people and beings I claim to love and I do feel love.... but it is so... well, conditional. Leanne, actually, I may love unconditionally, in large part, perhaps, because I respect her so much for how she copes with so much that I - or a much stronger person that I - could never cope with. And even though I love her unconditionally, I let her down. So, really, the love is pretty damn useless.
I thought of the feelings of love I have had - for lovers and friends, for family and other animals. But in all cases, I think I can let it go. Just let it go.
There was a time when I never thought I could let the love of my life go, or my horse Jet. But the one I did let go and the other, yes, I think I probably could. Even Leanne.
Then I think of the pain of losing Bobbit and my cats Eskimo and Baby. That was pretty bad, but it passed.
My mother. Well. Maybe that's not quite so easy.
Sometimes, I have realised something like this and thought it's just that I'm not sentimental. That's true. Sometimes I have thought I am a little autistic. Or maybe sociopathic. Or, simply, rather cold. The love of my life said I was capable of glacial coldness. That would strike many of my friends and colleagues as unlikely, but it's true.
Yet, it's strange. I can care so deeply about something - like trees or robins or Mrs S or my cats or various people or, indeed, about values such as "not killing animals" or "human limitations faced with the huge complexity and wonder of the rest of nature". What does this caring mean if I can, and do, just switch it off?
Is my heart too small or too sad? Too stiff and unyielding or too easily overwhelmed?
I don't know.
But, I suspect, that had Harka done to me what he did to Cait, the impact would have been rather short-lived.
And so, I say, with ambivalence, that I love Tane.
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