About Love: What The Way Did Not Teach Me

Photo by Charlene Edge
Greetings, readers. The following essay is about love. I post it here because it conveys some things about how my experiences in The Way affected me. I wrote it in 1990.
Maybe its value to you, readers, is that it shows what happened to me soon AFTER I escaped the cult in 1987. I haven't posted much about that, about how I "deprogrammed" myself from Victor Paul Wierwille's cult.
Note: I do not use AI to compose anything I write.
About Love: A Conversation
In December 1990, I was on the verge of divorce. Despite unimaginable stress at home, for a college class final project, I managed to write about the assigned topic: love.
That collapsing marriage, my first one, was to a man I met
in the fundamentalist cult, The Way, when I was eighteen and he was twenty. Our
cult-saturated union ended in April 1991 when I was 39 years old.
Divorce wasn’t easy, like most people tell you, and for me
it had been a longtime coming. If you’ve read my memoir, Undertow,
you know this.
Isn’t it odd how divorce, a breaking apart of a committed
relationship, can possibly be the only loving thing to do?
Fast forward to this month, March, 2021, as I’m celebrating
my first date (in 2000) with the man I married two years later: Hoyt Edge. A
second chance at a committed love is a gift to both of us! This post is to
honor love.
What is love?
The following fictional conversation was the final project I
already mentioned. It was for a Rollins College Philosophy class in 1990 not taught
by my now-husband, Dr. Hoyt Edge, Professor Emeritus of Philosophy at Rollins
College; I was an English major in the Hamilton Holt School evening program who
took a bunch of Philosophy classes. I didn’t meet Hoyt until 1994.
In the conversation, you’ll see references to various
authors’ works interwoven with my personal details, including references to the
cult my then-husband and I escaped with our daughter in 1987, which, in this
paper, is called a “ministry.”
A list of those books is at the end.
Now, I’m happy to resurrect from my old files a …
Conversation on a Lakeside Path About Love
by Charlene Bishop (married name at the time)
Persons of the dialogue: a Philosophy student (P.) and an
English Literature student (E.)
P. Yesterday before we left, you were wondering
again about what love is. Have you come up with anything yet?
E. Well, I think love is just going on when I
don’t feel like it … like when I have a headache …
P. Oh.
E. It’s what keeps me going day after day
because I don’t want to not be living.
P. What do you mean? What does love have to do
with not wanting to not be living?
E. Well, it would feel like death for me to not love
or feel loved. I would feel like a cold stone, just existing. Love is all I see
that is worth being alive for: loving people and doing what you love.
P. How would you define love?
E. I read a book called The Road Less
Traveled a few years ago. It said something that’s stuck with me since
then. The author, Scott Peck, said love is the will to extend oneself for
the purpose of nurturing one’s own or another’s spiritual growth. I like that.
P. Do you suppose emotional well-being is part
of that?
E. Yes. I also believe it means valuing myself,
accepting myself and believing I have intrinsic worth. Then I can value someone
else in a relationship. But it has to start with me, with how I treat myself.
P. What about loving things or loving certain
activities? Do we really love them, or is it better to say we like them?
E. Do you see that sailboat out there on the
lake? The breeze is gently pushing it along in the sun. It’s clear and bright
out here, too. I love this! Love is big enough to include all the things we
find beautiful. But after all the talks we’ve had about love these past few
weeks, I think love is too big to define. Do you remember what I said about
being “in love?”
P. Yes. You said you think you
are “in love.” That was quite a while ago now.
E. Back then I was very confused about whether
or not I was “in love” with my husband. That’s pretty sad considering we’ve
been married seventeen years. I was feeling guilty about not feeling like I
thought I should if I were really “in love.” You helped me see that the
friendly, human, caring and sweet love is what sustains a relationship. Love
has to do with being care full.
P. I see caring for someone as being
enthusiastic about them, too. Did you know that enthusiasm about life and the
people and things you’re drawn to, have to do with your being “in God?”
Enthusiasm in Greek means “in God.”
E. Wow. Remember I told you that for a lot of
years I was reminded constantly of the phrase in the Bible that says, “God is
love?”
P. Yes.
E. I’m not sure I understand that, and I don’t
think of it much now, perhaps because I don’t know what God is.
P. What was God to you then?
E. He was revealed in His Word, which was
defined as the Bible. The ministry I was in taught He was a loving Father, but
I was supposed to stand approved of Him by “rightly dividing the Word of
Truth.” That just meant finding its [the Bible’s] accurate meaning [by]
utilizing the methods the ministry taught. They said if I did that, I was doing
His will in addition to loving people. The simplicity of life got lost in all
the do’s and don’ts there. I slowly began to question the basic assumptions and
presuppositions that their biblical research was founded on. After promoting it
all for about fifteen years [by then] I guess it was about time, wasn’t it?
Anyway, one question just led to another, then another, then
still another, until I found myself on the outside looking in. The whole rug
had unraveled from under me. At that time, the only thing I held to was my
daughter’s hand. What did you say this questioning is called?
P. The dialectic. Dialectics is like
cross-examination to discover truth. Certain assumptions are revealed, and when
they are, they don’t work anymore, usually. A new worldview comes about from
it.
E. Yes. Now I remember … you used the word mythos for
worldview or belief system, didn’t you?
P. Bullseye. So, what did you do then?
E. I sort of drifted or floated, like Tristen
[from the Tristen and Iseult myth about romantic love] you
mentioned. Since I had given up “the cause”—the ministry—I figured I’d be my
own cause for a while and see what happened.
P. So … school?
E. Yes, I went back to school; I needed to sort
things out and think … think without so much censorship. My first writing
teacher really cared about me. She could see I was searching. She even
recommended I read that book, Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance,
[by Robert Pirsig] but the title sounded so weird I didn’t get into it, then.
She didn’t push me, though, she just let me breathe.
P. What happened to your concepts of love and
God in all this?
E. I decided I’d just love myself and my family.
I also had two close friends left. Most everyone else [from the ministry]
thought I was possessed with devil spirits for leaving the ministry, which was
the same as turning my back on God. I just let the world go by and focused on
living each day as it came along. The simplest thing seemed to be doing that; I
quit worrying if I was doing what God wanted me to do or whether He loved me or
not.
It was too hard to imagine being loved by an unseen force
that wasn’t there to hold me when my heart was breaking back then, or a
spiritual force that could look in my eyes and encourage me in that dark hour.
Since you’ve explained “projection” to me, and how the gods are real, although
incorporeal beings that are in me, I feel different. I had been labeling them
as symbols, but that’s just another way of saying they’re not real. A new kind
of spiritual life seems truly possible for me now—one from my heart and not my
head.
P. That sounds a lot different for you from what
you were into before.
E. It’s also very ironic. Even six years ago, I
would have labeled myself devilish for talking like this.
P. What about that phrase, “God is love?” What
do you think about it now?
E. I see it the other way around: love is God.
Where love is, God is.
P. How do you recognize love?
E. I trust I’ll know it when I see it. If
someone is being manipulative, hopefully, I’ll know it. Now that we’ve talked
about love and seduction [manipulation] over the past few weeks, I’ll better
understand what’s going on in my life and be more perceptive. If someone isn’t
emotionally healthy, I don’t believe they can love well; I hope to see that
more clearly, too.
P. So, being emotionally healthy is part of
love?
E. I see it like this: in a balanced person who
loves himself, love would be spontaneous; caring would be natural. It’s gentle
and caring, not pushy. When I think of loving someone, I think of cherishing
them, feeling they are special to me in a deep way, and one way to show that is
by remembering details about them … what they like, don’t like. My daughter
does not like Brussel sprouts, liver, or doing her laundry; she does like to
dance and talk on the phone. But deeper than that, I try to tune into her and
remember she likes me to just listen and not lecture.
P. I see.
E. A long time ago, I taught children’s
fellowships in that ministry. One book I found about loving children pointed
out how important it is to give them undistracted, focused attention to help
them feel they are important, accepted, and truly loved. In The Road
Less Traveled, Peck says, “the principle form that the work of love takes
is attention.”
P. So, what or who you love, you pay attention
to …
E. And the most common and important way in
which we can exercise our attention, he says, is by listening.
P. I like that.
E. When we brought up Pirsig’s book [Zen and
the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance], all the inquiry into Quality, paying
attention to details, and recognizing quality reminded me of so many pieces of
things I knew or felt to be true. I wish I had read it sooner, but I wasn’t
ready for it. Not until now. I see that. And all that really happened to him?
P. Yes. He put all that life and energy into
searching for what Quality is, discovering [that] aretĂȘ is
Greek for excellence; it originally meant that, and not virtue in
the sense of being right or wrong, true or false. Quality is beyond that.
E. It puts things in a different perspective for
me. Life has more unity when I view it from Pirsig’s position … a respect for
wholeness, he said … the wholeness of life.
P. I wonder how quality is related to God?
E. I’m beginning to see it as God at work.
P. Hey, do you hear that flock of geese in the
distance? They’re flying south now, you know. That’s so beautiful to me—part of
God’s work. They call to each other as they fly. Do you suppose that’s what we
do when we’re on the quality track, as Pirsig describes it? When we love? Our
love calls to another as we fly by in life, moment to moment.
E. Ah … the poet speaks …
P. Okay.
E. Oh, I brought you something today. It’s a
quote I like. It seems to relate to making quality decisions. I’ll read it to
you. It’s from The Tao of Psychology:
“Anything is one of a million paths. Therefore, you must
always keep in mind that a path is only a path: If you feel you should not
follow it, you must not stay with it under any conditions. To have such
clarity, you must lead a disciplined life. Only then will you know that any
path is only a path, and there is no affront, to oneself or to others, in
dropping it if that is what your heart tells you to do. But your decision to
keep on the path or leave it must be free from fear or ambition … look at every
path closely and deliberately. Try it as many times as you think necessary.”
P. Love does involve decisions, doesn’t it? It
is effortful. It’s also recognizing when it is time to let go, as well.
E. It would be.
P. Today, I brought something for you, too. It
relates to detail, attention, caring, and being in the moment … here.
E. Thank you. Ah, a poem! What a surprise. “Watering the Horse” by Robert Bly:
How strange to think of giving up all ambition?
Suddenly I see with such clear eyes
The white flake of snow
That has just fallen in the horse’s mane!
*
E. I wonder if ambition is related to seduction?
P. Let’s save that for another day. Look, the
boat is drifting to the dock, since the breeze has died down. Let’s go in now,
too. We can go round the path again tomorrow.
E. Good idea.
—-THE END—-
Works Referenced: I still love these books!
The Road Less Traveled by M. Scott Peck. (Simon
& Schuster. 1978)
Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance: An Inquiry
into Values by Robert M. Pirsig (Quill, William Morrow. New
York. 1979)
We: Understanding the Psychology of Romantic Love by
Robert A. Johnson (Harper and Row, Publishers. 1983)
The Tao of Psychology: Synchronicity and the Self
by Jean Shinoda Bolen, M.D. (Harper and Row, Publishers. 1979)
Thanks for reading!
Charlene
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