Culturally, we appear to be committed to an impoverished definition of love: beyond parental love, eros, and maybe love for family, the path seems to quickly narrow and disappear. Rebecca Solnit writes that “there are so many things to love … so much that needs love, so much other work love has to do in the world.”
If we allow the culture to define us as private consumers whose joy and satisfaction comes mainly from material goods, sex and family, then limiting love (or lack of it) to the private space of the family is understandable. We hyper-map and obsess over it, while other territories are under-explored; and we end up with blank spots on the map of who we are.
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