“Love is all there is,” some say. But really?
We live in a society where people are afraid of expressing their inner truth — as if authenticity were a liability, not an asset, where people too often seem afraid of telling the truth, and I am talking about your inner truth, which is not often valued as an asset. Disclosing your truth seems to make you vulnerable.
But we are often driven by fear. How can we feel empathy for each other’s pain when we’re all smiling through tears we won’t shed, silencing shouts we won’t voice? It’s not uncommon that people feel compelled to hide their grief or their fears. I know of people who refrain from expressing political positions or preferences openly, dreading that conflict breaks bonds, that differences might not be accepted. Politics and debate have been replaced by fundamentalism. Churches have tightened their grip on people, influencing not just faith but politics. So many people shut up because both their religion and spiritual beliefs see debate and disagreements as undesirable. And in the process we come to despise or mistrust our neighbor. The outcome is that we’re segregating from each other. If we build a society where only sameness is trusted, we’re doomed.
But in the world of duality in which we dwell, we are constantly swimming between two waters. Call it the law of polarity, the unity of opposites, Thanatos and Eros, destructive vs. constructive forces, or yin and yang.
We cannot escape contradictions. We are driven by opposing forces. One day, we love; the next, we hate. Today, we have faith; tomorrow, we worry or feel overwhelmed by doubt. We navigate through life driven by either duty or pleasure, pride or guilt and shame.
If we could at least honestly acknowledge the inevitable essence of our dual nature, we would not carry on pretending to be loving people when deep inside we feel disdain for others or pull them out of our lives, maybe because we deem them less evolved, less knowledgeable, less spiritual, or not politically correct enough.
Loving difficult people is challenging, I don’t deny it. Often the best decision is to distance ourselves from toxic people. No doubt, some people are difficult to love, even though often they need love the most. However, we face a choice: to protect our wellbeing or remain exposed to their toxicity. The old Chinese books recommend staying close to those people who allow us to open our heart to them, explore our relationship with those who might become part of that family and run away with no remorse from toxic individuals.
Friendships, partnerships… any meaningful relationship, for that matter… must be built on love, that’s true. Not the mushy love often depicted in novels and movies! True love implies the courage to say the truth, the wisdom to know when and how. Love is strong and veritable, long-lasting and loyal. In my view, this applies to a personal kind of love, but also our love for humanity, other sentient beings, the planet. We want the love we have seen in Minnessota, the love that defies order, weather, discomfort, the love that inspires solidarity. But we must accept that even the unconditional love we feel for our children, no matter how strong, is often rough and bumpy. It requires that we cultivate the wisdom that strengthens our compassion.
While we invest our love in others, we must not expect them to behave, feel or talk in a certain way; that would be loving an ideal other, not what is. Love is founded on acceptance. I love you for who you are, not for what I want you to become. We could, of course, deliberately choose whom to love based on our preferences, and yes! We need to set proper boundaries that prevent bullies from hurting us. It is okay to keep them outside our physical, emotional, and mental spaces.
Then we must ask: who is our neighbor? And is it our duty to love them as we love ourselves?
But what about love that chooses us? For example, our family ties. We didn’t choose our family or our coworkers, our school peers. Then we need to explore who do we consider our neighbor and if it is our duty to love them as we love ourselves.
If we’re constantly comparing our love object against some idealization unconsciously set up early in life, we’re likely to become disappointed. We might have built an unrealistic unconscious expectation for perfection as a prerequisite for acceptance and love.
We may unconsciously demand perfection as a prerequisite for acceptance and love
Idealizing the person we love, and being unable to fully accept others, are barriers to love we must deal with.