What is Love?
I was 23 when I suffered from a major quarter-life crashout. Some lucky few may not experience it, but I somehow became hyperaware of a lot of internal conflicts within myself. I had many doubts about my ability to succeed in my career, whether I would ever find a partner, and if I could cope with moving away from the few close friends I had at the time. After all, I had known how difficult and isolating it is to be alone.
I love my friends, my mentors, my family, but I always wondered if that is "true" love. At least from my experience, where there exists attachment, there is no love.
One of my friends has thoughtfully disagreed with my then-perspective on love (or perhaps, he was unable to understand it). What is wrong with attachment? What is wrong with loving people so much that it would be painful if they exited your life? I would rather spend as much time as I can with them now, knowing that in the future, there will be less time to do so.
After this period of my life was over, I realized I was inadvertently pushing people away due to my fear of abandonment. I did not understand love fully. I knew that love could not exist with insecure attachment; such attachment breeds fear and uncertainty. It's true that attachment creates possessiveness, and it is an inherently selfish feeling. However, I mistakenly thought that the only way to cure this flaw was to avoid it.
Desire / Attachment
Let me explain:
There is a concept that many people are familiar with in Buddhist philosophy. It describes in detail the dangers of human desire. Desire is the root of all human suffering. Desire is what creates attachment to material objects, to status, and to other humans.
So my friend asks, what is wrong with desire?
If you have a strong desire to "possess" certain things in life, it could lead to covetousness, jealousy, and dissatisfaction. It takes away from the present, and places emphasis on the future.
In the future, I would like to have X, Y, Z, I would like to be admired by my peers, I want a lover, I want....etc. etc.
And if I can't have those things, I will be unhappy.
The truth is, the future is never guaranteed. Mortality is a fact that follows us around. There is proof of how fragile human life is when we take a look at the injustices of fate around us.
The Hedgehog Dilemma
My understanding of love was incomplete. A sense of attachment still followed me around. I had several periods of my life without close friendships, and realizing that I would one day be separated from my friends geographically scared me. They would continue to have meaningful experiences without my presence. I didn't quite understand how to deal with this, and I thought I would have to find a way to cope with being alone.
So I became a bit of a hedgehog.
(I didn't learn of the hedgehog dilemma from Neon Genesis Evangelion, but some of you might've.)
I craved deep social relationships, but my fears caused me emotional pain. Each hangout would be a reminder that there would eventually be an end. I thought that there should be a safe distance for me to stay to avoid getting hurt. You could compare it to a group of hedgehogs cuddling for warmth on a cold winter's day -- get too close, and you'll end up pricking each other. Stay too far, and you end up neglecting your need for warmth.
Of course, I eventually realized humans are not hedgehogs.
So What is Love?
I believe love is a very selfless feeling. A lot of people think they are in love, or that they love someone, but it is often that they love the idea of someone, or even the role this person serves to them. If I loved my friends, why would I feel a sense of discomfort and even jealousy at the idea that they would continue to live their lives without my physical presence?
Love does not imply ownership. It does not co-exist with selfishness.
If you think to yourself that your wife or husband is yours, or that your children are yours, or your friends are yours, do you love them? J. Krishnamurti has asked: if they were to pass away unexpectedly, would you mourn them for them? Do you cry because of the life that was taken away from them? Or do you mourn the fact that they no longer can fulfill the role they served you in the past?
I'm sure for many people, it is probably both. It can truly explain some of the irrational feelings of jealousy and insecurity that arise. Even something as small as FOMO (my friends are having fun without me), to deeper feelings of envy (my crush is showing attention to someone else), can be explained through the selfishness inherent to attachment.
Is that so wrong? Of course, it is unproductive to feel shameful about these natural feelings. These feelings shouldn't be forcibly suppressed, but rather understood. It is through that gradual understanding that people (myself included) could finally find security.
Understanding Loss
In the past year, I had experienced an unexpected death in my life. This person was a mentor to me, and although we were never extremely close, I knew of her great impact on the world and people around me. She was level-headed, altruistic, and loved to serve her community.
I was dealing with a difficult situation; a patient had gone through a lot of unfortunate series of events with her health, and the nature of our dental school had made her feel extremely frustrated and angry about the course of her treatment. I empathized with her pain, but I also knew that she was asking a lot from us as healthcare providers -- including the impossible.
I called my mentor on Saturday to go over what we could do. She spent her time talking to the patient on a day in which she shouldn't have had to, and she promised that she would meet both of us in person on Monday to discuss. I felt so incredibly grateful that she refused to let me deal with this alone.
Monday quickly arrived. I couldn't find her. I texted her several times. She didn't show up to her morning meeting with staff, and no one was sure where she was.
Our own meeting time came and went, and the patient was incredibly irritated and lashed out. Why didn't she message you if she wasn't going to show up? This is absolutely ridiculous. I can't believe it. Do you know how hard it is for me to get here?!
I didn't have anything to say in response.
---
The next day, I was in a class when I learned that I was one of the last people to speak with my mentor.
I couldn't help crying during the workshop as the lecturer continued to talk. It was a moment when I felt what love was. Because I was not extremely close to her, I did not feel that I myself was robbed of someone's life. Rather, I felt the full unfairness of death, the fact that my patient had continued to be unkind to my mentor despite her passing, and the truth that people would be deeply affected by the loss of her presence.
I began to wonder in the process of grieving, how much of it was to heal those who had been affected by her passing (her family, close friends, etc). How much of it was to grieve the loss of her presence in their own lives, as opposed to the loss of her own life itself? Of course, I completely understood their pain -- but somehow, I couldn't stop thinking about her soul, and her life.
I might be agnostic, but she was a devout Catholic. I truly hoped that she felt her time spent on Earth was fulfilling and that she died without regrets. I think that this is when I realized what it is like to love someone while not expecting anything from them.
This experience gave me a great reminder that life itself is precious, and the future is never guaranteed. I think it is always important to be present and grateful, and let those in your life know that they are indeed loved fully and deeply!
Thanks for reading,
- Valentine
