What is love? Every society and everyone have their own definition of what love is. The word “Love” is used so easily, overloaded and corrupted many times.
We say I love my country, I love my king, I love some book, I love that mountain, I love my wife, I love God etc. Is love an idea? When you say you love God what does it mean? It means that you love a projection of your own imagination, a projection of yourself clothed in certain forms of respectability according to what you think is noble and holy.
Adoring someone, sleeping with someone, the emotional exchange, the companionship – is that what we mean by love? That has been the norm, the pattern, and it has become so tremendously personal, sensuous, and limited.
In what we call human love there is pleasure, competition, jealousy, the desire to possess, to hold, to control and to interfere with another’s thinking, and knowing the complexity of all this they say there must be another kind of love, divine beautiful untouched, uncorrupted. Our conception and perception of love has been extremely narrowed over centuries of human existence.
To understand love in a true sense first we need to reject what the church, what society, what my parents and friends, what every person and every book has said about it.
The government says, `Go and kill for the love of your country’. Is that love? Is love desire? For most of us it is – desire with pleasure. You say you love your wife. In that love is involved pleasure, the pleasure of having someone in the house to look after your children, to cook. You depend on her; she has given you her body, her emotions, her encouragement, a certain feeling of security and well-being. Then she turns away from you; she gets bored or goes off with someone else, and your whole emotional balance is destroyed, and this disturbance, which you don’t like, is called jealousy. There is pain in it, anxiety, hate and violence. So what you are really saying is, `As long as you belong to me I love you but the moment you don’t I begin to hate you. As long as I can rely on you to satisfy my demands, sexual and otherwise, I love you, but the moment you cease to supply what I want I don’t like you.’ So there is antagonism between you, there is separation, and when you feel separate from another there is no love. But if you can live with your wife without thought creating all these contradictory states, these endless quarrels in yourself, then perhaps – perhaps – you will know what love is. Then you are completely free and so is she, whereas if you depend on her for all your pleasure you are a slave to her. So when one loves there must be freedom, not only from the other person but from oneself.
To really love somebody is to love without hate, without jealousy, without anger, without wanting to interfere with what he is doing or thinking, without condemning, without comparing.
Ramakrishna Paramahamsa once said “Even in mother love, there is selfishness.”(But personally I don’t agree with this 100%) The parents want their children to have a secure position in society. Parents enjoy when their kids do better in school/job. They enjoy the respect they get from society. Is that enjoyment from their own selfishness of being respected? Is that love?
When you lose someone you love you shed tears – are your tears for yourself or for the one who is dead? You have cried, but do those tears come out of self-pity or have you cried because a human being has been killed? Do you cry/feel sad for any human being killed? If you cry out of self-pity your tears have no meaning because you are concerned about yourself, your family, your son. You can see in a moment the whole structure and nature of this shoddy little thing called `me’, my tears, my family, my nation, my belief, my religion – all that ugliness is the reason for your sorrow. Sorrow and love cannot go together. Do you shed tears if your enemy dies? Why not?
Then what this thing “love” is? Fear is not love, dependence is not love, jealousy is not love, possessiveness and domination are not love, responsibility and duty are not love, self-pity is not love, the agony of not being loved is not love, love is not the opposite of hate any more. So if you can eliminate all these, not by forcing them but by washing them away as the rain washes the dust of many days from a leaf, then perhaps you will come upon this strange flower which man always hungers after.
Source: Inspired (Nope. Mostly copied and pasted ) from Freedom from Unknown by K.