On Love (Part 4) - Ajahn Jayasāro


Have you noticed that a lot of people in love suffer precisely because they assumed that love would mean an end to suffering, that it would resolve something? They tend to feel disappointed and cheated when things don’t work out that way. They feel that it wasn’t meant to be like this, that it’s not fair. Once the first flush of love has faded, we cannot blind ourselves so easily to the ways in which, despite the best will in the world, emotional and spiritual immaturity constantly undermines US all. The Buddha kept pointing to the fact that we suffer through the cravings that arise when we don’t understand ourselves. Suffering ends because ignorance-based cravings (tanha) end, not because I love you and you love me.

Hoping to end suffering with love is starting out on the wrong foot, but the problem isn’t so much love itself. Love is just what it is, no more, no less. But not understanding (or misunderstanding) ourselves, we demand love to give us something it cannot. We make ourselves into victims of unrealistic expectations.

The lover, the beloved, and love itself are sankhara: conditioned phenomena unable to maintain themselves continuously in one particular state. Separation from loved ones is thus natural and unavoidable. If not today then at some time in the future, it is inevitable that we will have to part from all of those we love. Death is a completely normal affair for all living things in this world, without exception. But those who have never taken the time to examine the nature of life leave themselves extremely vulnerable. The magnitude of the suffering that they undergo as a result of separation varies in accordance with the degree of attachment. Great love results in great grief; modest love results in modest grief. Sometimes even before the ultimate separation of bereavement, there may be significant separation due to illness.

For example, mental illness or senility can make someone who once loved US profoundly unable to even recognize our face. The nature of change accords with causes and conditions and heeds no one’s desire. However ardently we may pray beg or make offerings, separation will, sooner or later, always arrive. We would laugh at anyone imploring a sacred being to prevent the sun from setting, but the state of mind lying behind the refusal to accept the certainty of death is hardly different.

In romantic love, lovers feel impelled to insist upon or exclaim their love at frequent intervals. In this age of cell phones they might say or text the magic words several times a day until it becomes a daily routine. And expressions of love become subject to a certain linguistic inflation—people promise to love forever or (despite being unable to recall past lives) claim to have loved each other in many previous existences. What does it mean when we make such incredible statements?

People who say this probably mean that at the time of making the statement (assuming they are sincere) they feel a great love and at that moment can’t imagine ever feeling any other way. But who can guarantee their own feeling to that extent, when the intensity of a feeling IS not a proof of its endurance?

It is worth noting that what lies behind this insistence on love is a worry, because without a deep-seated fear that one day love would no longer exist (or exist in the same way) why would anyone feel that they have to insist upon it so much? If love is something that occurs all by itself without any intention just like falling into a pit, how can we be so sure that in this life our pit or their pit will be the only pit? At any rate, once love has been declared, from then on it has to be declared continuously to reassure the other person that it has not changed. If the frequency of the declaration declines, the other person can feel let down or suspicious. It’s a kind of pressure.

If someone says to US, “I love you,” is that a good thing? Maybe, but not if we don’t love that person back. Unrequited love amongst classmates or co-workers can cause awkward situations. Sometimes people, put on the spot, he that they love the other person too because they don’t want to hurt the other’s feelings with rejection.

Men may see an expression of love as the price to pay for sexual favours. But for whatever reasons they’re uttered, once the words “I love you” are out there, they take on a life of their own, and a relationship is irrevocably changed by them. Some people don’t mean to be dishonest but just don’t know how to label their own feelings. Out of confusion, they figure they might as well call what they are feeling love since they don’t know what else to call it.

This thing with the simple name of love is a complex phenomenon, blended with other mental states that are so ingrained in our hearts that they lead US to believe them to be a part of or an expression of love. Worry and concern are good examples. These emotions are frequently considered to be the proof of true love: no worry, no love. When a son or daughter is out late and not reachable by cell phone, the mother is already stressed out, checking the time more and more frequently while her imagination runs wild. But few mothers would consider that worry to be a mental impurity that they need to relinquish. More likely, they reject anyone else’s plea to calm down and stop worrying, repeating simply that they can’t help it, just can’t help it.

Concern and worries are by-products of attachment in an uncertain and dangerous world. They’re almost like a love tariff.

Attachment causes US to accept another person’s suffering as our own. Any physical or emotional pain experienced by our loved ones torments US. Sometimes our suffering exceeds theirs.

Nevertheless, Buddhadhamma tells us plainly that mental suffering is caused by mistaken ways of thinking about life, not by particular events or relationships. What happens to US can only be a condition or trigger for inner pain, not its cause. Our challenge is then how to love with the least amount of suffering. Developing mindfulness (sati) to govern our thoughts and prevent our minds from running on into excessive proliferation is an art, a life skill which can greatly ease this kind of suffering. Mindfulness allows US to distinguish normal and ordinary concern from the unnecessary pain of mental agitation and stress. We must learn to take responsibility for our own mental health because no one else can do that for US.

Excessive worries can be extinguished with the power of mindfulness together with inner stability and calm {samadhi). Rational concerns can be managed by reminding ourselves that things occur according to causes and conditions.

All we can do is do all we can, accept the outcomes, and learn from them. Worrying is a destructive habit that helps nothing. It makes US unhappy, adversely affects those around US, and detracts from our ability to act well and wisely. But it takes time to develop awareness, inner calm and wise consideration. In the meantime occasionally singing to yourself a verse or two of Que sera, sera may help. To my mind, it’s one of the great non-Buddhist texts.

On Love (Part 4)

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