Saturday, October 13, 2007

Love Is

...another essay written for my 100 level english class last year.

  Love is a context. It is not an action, an infatuation, a currency, a feeling, an event, an intention, a fantasy or an intellectual construct. Each of those things can be 'loving', but inherently none of them have any such meaning. A thing or action, of itself, is meaningless without a context, and as such, doing the dishes after a meal is just a meaningless string of mechanical movements, unless one considers the context. It can be an empty, resentful fulfillment of obligation, or a joyful, loving act of service to one's family. At first it might seem as though intention may be the critical factor in the previous examples, however, intention is typically just a manifestation of self-interest. When an act is performed 'for a reason', it is performed as a means to an end; for the sake of a presumed reward - perhaps for the good feeling of living up to an ideal that one holds in high esteem; perhaps to avoid a feeling of guilt. Self-interest is different from love. As a context, love is complete and all-inclusive; it has nothing to lose and nothing to gain. That said, the vessel of love (subjective awareness) is not separate from the context itself. Love then, is a way of being in, and of relating to the world. It is not a matter of particular things such as the act of washing dishes, but rather, a matter of the propensity of nature for compassion, nurturing, and forgiveness; love is committed to the whole of existence.

   So what exactly does a context of love entail? In Jay Ingram's article “The Look” (2003), he talks about the phenomenon of 'love at first sight', and the experience of locking eyes with a stranger across a room. According to Ingram, there is a physiological phenomenon which occurs in such an instant; typically marked by a dilation of the pupils. This is not particularly surprising, given the general feelings we associate with gazing deeply into the eyes of another, but nevertheless, inquiry as to a teleological reason for the phenomenon is rather intriguing. Most of the time when we look at people or objects we tend to focus on the near side of them. We probably do this because the near side of things is the side which we are most immediately capable of manipulating. When it comes to locking eyes with a person however, the focus is no longer on the near surface of their body. As the saying goes, “the eyes are the window to the soul”. When we look into someone's eyes, focus shifts to the far side of the person; they become included in one's awareness (as opposed to when the focus is on the near side, and things are perceived as though they were invaders from outside of awareness). While this change in perspective toward a more inclusive experience has no immediate effect on the absolute relationship between the observer and observed, it does have an impact on the context of the experience. Just as one might perceive two cells in a body separately, one can view them non-dualistically as components of a single organism. This is what happens with love; the dualistic perspective of observer and observed dissolves and everything takes on meaning as it relates to service of the whole.

   When it comes to love, it is often believed that our faculties for reason become compromised. While from an outward perspective this may seem to be the case, being that logic presumes that self interest is our primary function, love merely represents a reassignment of intellectual resources. Where normally the question would be about whether or not to act forgiving or compassionate, love automates the decision and instead assigns cognitive efforts to the task of figuring out how best to go about implementing forgiveness and compassion. Where making choices between two alternatives entails a very linear (left-brained) sort of processing (weighing pros against cons), the problems of how to implement the particular functions of love are more representative of creative pursuits, and as such, they mark a shift toward more non-linear, right-brained processing (which, to the linear mind appears highly irrational). Thus, love is not subject to reason. Rather, it is inclusive of our faculties for reason, but ultimately those faculties serve a context of love, and not the other way around (as the scientific mind would prefer). Where the scientific mind might become preoccupied with details and specifics, love caters to the broader spectrum; intuitively accounting for the overall field of an encounter, rather than the immediate appearance of it. There is less emphasis on control, and more emphasis on facilitation.

   With love there is less focus on the particulars of the existence of a person or thing, and more focus on its essence. The focus on essence illuminates the wisdom in the saying “if you love something, let it go”. The essence of a thing has absolutely no relation to a person's sense of possessing it. In Anita Rau Badami's article, “My Canada” (2000), we have a stunning example of the transition from particulars to essence and how this transition facilitates love. At first, Badami's experience of Canada gained its meaning in contrast to her prior experience of living in India. To her, Canada was remote and exotic; different. Though she enjoyed the country, it was mostly for the varied experiences, environments and encounters that it had to offer which could not be said for other parts of the world. When she finally begins to view Canada as her home, it comes as a consequence of shedding the comparative perspectives that she had initially brought to her experience; from her ability to appreciate Canada independently from any comparisons - she appreciates it for its essence. When she says 'my' Canada, having witnessed the beauty of its essence, she really means 'everyone's' Canada. It is no longer the Canada of her expectations but the Canada that simply is.

   By examining all that has been discussed thus far, it becomes evident that love is represented by a progressive transition from the conditional to the unconditional. Anthony de Mello (1931-1987), a Jesuit priest and psychotherapist had this to say about love:

Is it possible for the rose to say, "I will give my fragrance to the good people who smell me, but I will withhold it from the bad?" Or is it possible for the lamp to say, "I will give my light to the good people in this room, but I will withhold it from the evil people"? Or can a tree say, "I'll give my shade to the good people who rest under me, but I will withhold it from the bad"? These are images of what love is about.


It would seem that love then, is not a matter of doing anything, but rather it is a matter of being. The nature and the function of the rose are inseparable from one another. In order to love, one must merely surrender the obstacles to love – resentment, selfishness, bias, pride – and let one's nature unfold in participation with the totality of existence. Given the inclusive nature of seeing things in a loving context, perhaps the key to letting go of obstacles is to welcome them rather than resist them, as doing so recontextualizes the relationship between oneself and the obstacle, dissolving any opposition there might have been between the two. As a context, love has no opposition, and that is its power.

-Rob

1 comment:

Elou said...

wow!
what grade did you get?

Godspeed rob!