Romantic love. It’s virtually familiar to everyone, with perhaps the exception of true religious extremists such as nuns or priests, or true hermits or isolationists. It’s written about in a huge percentage of books, TV shows, plays, movies, and songs, in every imaginable permutation. It seems to be the most important thing to most people, and is often the reason for suffering, revenge, murder, and even suicide. It seems that romantic love, and the lack thereof, can drive people to almost any end. It’s as if it’s the most important emotional experience in the world. At least, if an alien visited earth, it would probably draw that conclusion. 

I sort of blindly believed this as well, without really thinking about it too much. Sure, I had loved, and loved deeply. I had also had deeply spiritual sex that I knew was very very good. I had loved many women, and figured that I would love many more in the future. But, all that changed after my peak experience last year. During that peak experience I underwent an intense emotional experience so euphoric that it made romantic love look like Mount Washington next to Mount Everest. It made romantic love look like a piece of bread next to a 7-layer cake. It made what I previously thought was the most intense emotional experience of my life look like a hiccup. 

This peak experience, and the mental changes that ensued, lasted for many months, changing my perspectives, shifting my values, and ultimately changing the direction of my life. What remained, however, was a much much deeper love, a love that had nothing to do with romance at all. This was self-love. Some may call it the love of god - I do not. The word god has too many attachments and associations to provide any utility in this case. But it was a rich, warm, oceanic love that filled me up and satisfied every nook and cranny, every crevice and fold of my body in a way that romantic love never has. Romantic love is like hitting the accelerator on a fast car: exciting and exhilarating. Self-love is like riding a 50 foot wave on a surfboard, naked, and with no fear of ever crashing. Only that wave then rises higher, and you basically feel like you’re flying on a surfboard, and you can go anywhere. Because that self-love is always with you - it never leaves. No matter how great or poor your day is going, self-love will be by your side. It isn’t dependent on another person. It’s inside of you, and can be accessed whenever you wish. 

Now that I have self-love, I’m almost numb to romantic love. Sure, it will probably still feel good, but I don’t crave it. I hear the songs about romantic love, of needing the love of another person, of being “incomplete” without that person. But these words ring hollow for me. Now that I’ve understood self-love, Whitney Houston’s iconic ballad, “The Greatest Love of All,” is one of the most beautiful songs to ever enter my ears, because it is written about this oceanic endless wonder that is self-love. She knew what self-love was all about. She had tasted the endless bounty of limitless potential. She had surpassed the cravings of another being’s love, and learned how to provide the same boundless energy to herself, and it was, quite simply, the greatest. 

If only there were more songs to celebrate this love. If only there were more words. The disproportionate balance of songs and movies devoted to romantic love is laughable when one experiences the true depth of self-love. Self-love can make you cry, or laugh, or giggle for no reason. It can make you smile with gratitude for simply being alive. Self-love is a life jacket in a choppy sea, an airbag in a car crash, and it’s tucked away inside of you, just waiting for you to figure out how to unpack it and use it every day. 

I know that most people have not fully experienced this self-love the way that I have, because if they had, they would write songs about it with far greater frequency. There would be many more movies highlighting it. And honestly, the obsession with romantic love would probably be a fraction of what it is today. 

I hope to be able to teach people how to access this self-love. I hope that others can experience this most incredible joy, and realize the full potential of the human experience. Monkeys can love other monkeys, and experience romantic love. I’m sure that dolphins can too. But self-love might just possibly be reserved for this rarefied species of humans. We may be the only living creatures we know of that are capable of loving ourselves this deeply. It would be a shame if more of us don’t tap into this potential and complete our journey of self-actualization.