One of these latter missives having just been delivered, a young protégé reverently opens this tender attempt by his old friend to leave one final word of exhortation…unsurprisingly, the letter opens,
Dear Friend,
These first two words bring a wet-eyed smile to the young man’s face, as the tender voice elicited by these words rolls past the grasp of death itself and through his mind with the strength and clarity of the original flesh-and-blood version.
The Old Fool and the young man had been discussing the young man’s frustrating and apparently never ending failures at love’s various gambits when that great life was cut short by the indifferent cold of the grave. The young man’s distress had only increased with the passing of his friend. Yet, as he gazed across the opening lines, the love and affection for his erstwhile mentor and friend proved yet again well-founded.
Dear Friend,
As you read this note, I will have joined my forefathers in rejoicing with my Potter. To this boundless joy, however, comes the dampening memory of leaving you behind with little of our conversations having come to much end. I am sorry I will not be there to share in the declaration and riposte that this discussion should warrant, but please lend me your eyes, but more importantly your heart, as I try to share some final words with you, my dear friend. I had spent a great deal of my time listening to you in order to better understand your grief…and was remiss in having contributed so little to you in person.
Before I can go much further, a very important definition must be established, my friend. Without definitions, our words are empty, and our thoughts misdirected. So, I ask you, my friend, take a moment and reflect on this question quite carefully:
How would you define “love”?
The young man stopped reading for a moment, struck by the question. After all, was this not one of those great indefinable words and concepts that philosophers had spent millennia arguing? Did this not rank up there with “why am I here”, and “what does this all mean”? How could he be expected to define something so vast, so deep, so fundamental?
Ah, my friend, I can just about see you now puzzling over the unfair question. Even now I can see a bit of that petulant pout at having been placed on the spot quite like so.
I don’t blame you. The question has rarely been asked and met with aught but some bumbling, hastily constructed reply. Depending on the circumstances, people will emphasize feelings, emotive descriptions, romanticism, eroticism, bonds, connections, spirituality, or some grandiose mixture of all of these things. I myself was put on the spot once by my very own father while he was preparing to speak to a group of young married couples. I was merely 14 at the time, and it was quite a few more years before I had digested and appropriately applied his answer. It made sense, but I had not allowed the truth and power of it to sink in and make sense to me. So many other definitions, even that found in the Potter’s own Book, describe love by what it is and is not, show examples of love, and try to paint a picture of love. But very rarely does a simple, succinct definition appear anywhere as it did for me that day.
My father squared my shoulders to him, looked me in the eye, and said:
“Love is the conscious and willing commitment to (be, want, desire, do, seek, ab pluribus disce omnes) the BEST for the person or persons loved.”
My friend, I love this definition. I live and breathe this definition. It has been the fundamental principle behind my own relationships, whatever they may be.
Love is a commitment, few people would argue that, I suppose. However, it is a commitment made in the full knowledge (conscious and willing) of what that commitment may someday and does at the moment entail. It is not a blind feeling, a fleeting emotion, or some overwhelming sensation. It is not a convenient desire, it is not a passing fad. It is a wholehearted commitment. A father does not cease loving his child when he misbehaves or is being difficult. In fact, it is that commitment that keeps love alive even through the difficulties. It cannot be something as fleeting as a mere emotional state, or it is nothing but a whim and of no ultimate significance.
The multifaceted application of verbs in the definition reflects the myriad aspects of what that commitment may someday entail. It can be actions, thoughts, prayer, emotions, and any combination of these things. But it is all of these things for one unifying purpose…to the end of bringing about the BEST for the one(s) loved.
Unfortunately, my friend, this is where so many of us fall short of our Potter’s perfection. For, being merely men, what we can believe to be the best for one loved can later be found to have been sorely misguided. This weakness is in us, not the definition, however. Just because we can be too hubris-filled or inexperienced to know what truly constitutes ‘best’ for someone does not mean that we cannot fill our hearts with the true commitment to seek this best, whatever it may be.
I wholeheartedly believe, my young friend, and have often experienced, that this commitment, made honestly and totally, will lend to self-correction by an honest man unafraid to evaluate himself or take evaluation by others. Being wrong is ok…persisting in the mistake is where the true failing often occurs. If we are open to correction, and committed to the best FOR the person loved…not to the hubris of being right or knowing what’s best, then I believe we can minimize the egregious errors of overconfidence in what “right” constitutes.
Now, my friend, this letter grows long, and I grow weary for the night, but I will leave you with these two thoughts, and I would ask you to set aside the other letters delivered today until their appropriate times. Before you get to the next letter, ask yourself these three questions:
Does this definition make sense to me? If not, what IS love, as succinctly and logically as I can define it?
Have I ever truly loved?
Can I say I have been loved?
Good night, my friend…I look forward to discoursing some more with you tomorrow,
Your friend,
The Old Fool
The young man slowly folds this first letter, as he begins to contemplate these three questions…a task which will surely stay with him over the course of the next few days.
And you, dear reader…what do these three questions spark in you?
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The Old Fool
“If liberty means anything at all it means the right to tell people what they do not want to hear.” -George Orwell.
Blog - Musings of an Old Fool by Juan Lopez is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 United States License.
Based on a work at lopezj4141.blogspot.com.
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