Twisting Our Vision

The beginning of love is to let those we love be perfectly themselves, and not to twist them to fit our own image. Otherwise we love only the reflection of ourselves we find in them.
---Thomas Merton

I was "reflecting" upon this quote this morning and it called to mind one of my favorite observations about love, an observation I've discussed previously on this blog.

"Love is the only way to grasp another human being in the innermost core of his personality. No one can become fully aware of the very essence of another human being unless he loves him. By his love he is enabled to see the essential traits and features in the beloved person; and even more, he sees that which is potential in him, which is not yet actualized but yet ought to be actualized. Furthermore, by his love, the loving person enables the beloved person to actualize these potentialities. By making him aware of the what he can be and of what he should become, he makes these potentialities come true."

The "love" that Frankl and Merton understand, and that I did not for many years, requires, initially, a certain passivity, and objectivity. By "passivity," I mean that you must not actively project what you desire another person to be upon that person. Instead, you must try, as best you can (realizing that perfection is impossible), to step back from your own needs and wants, and objectively observe the strengths and weakness of the other, contemplate those strengths and weaknesses, and, with humility and a selfless wish to help the other, offer whatever words and actions you genuinely believe might assist the other to "actualize her potentialities."

This is a very difficult task. At least, it has been a difficult task for me for most of my life. Even now, I recognize two recent instances in my personal and professional life where what I thought I was doing out of love for another (not in the the emotional or romantic sense of that word, but in the sense, in one case, of "philia," and in the other of "agape," as those terms are discussed by Pope Benedict XVI in his first encyclical, "God Is Love," a condensed version of which can be found here), I think I was doing out of baser desires.

In one case, I offered a business opportunity to a colleague, an opportunity that was presented to me and that I could have taken advantage of myself without involving him. I thought that I was doing this because it was, selflessly, "the right thing to do." Upon further reflection and discussion of the pros and cons of having involved the other person, I realized that I might have also had a less selfless motive, one that involved "paying back" another colleague by not involving him in the opportunity. That motive would have been based on a past transgression by the second colleague for which I'd consciously forgiven him, but which, on an emotional level, I've apparently buried in a shallow grave. I'm fairly certain that "pay back" played a role in my decision and it doesn't make me proud of myself.

In the instance involving my personal life, I urged someone who I thought had talent to stop holding back in her fiction writing and tell us the truths only an artist can communicate. This person had once meant something more to me than merely a "friend" and she had once called me her "muse." We had a falling out a number of years ago, and when I saw that she was pursuing fiction writing seriously at this time, I thought I would attempt to make a small gesture of atonement by sending her encouragement without any expectation of reciprocation. She thanked me for it; however, after reading more of her most recent work, I've decided that I'm not doing her any favors by continuing that line of conversation.

I think that what I thought I saw long ago was my own reflection in her eyes, and that I was blinded by the glow given off by my ego being stroked, by having someone of her beauty and intelligence state that she admired me and that my opinion mattered to her. Instead of exercising critical, honest discernment, I was projecting upon her what I wanted to see, and giving her "feedback" that was not designed to honestly evaluate and nurture her talent, but, rather, to elicit from her continued warm feelings toward me. I wasn't feeding her, then, or perhaps now. I was feeding myself. I wasn't doing any of that consciously, but it's suddenly become as clear as crystal to me.

That being the case, whether or not "there is any there, there," is a question I'll need to leave to more objective, dispassionate critics to answer. You don't accurately see the "potentialities" that need to be "actualized" in another person when you're looking in a mirror. In other words, I'm simply not fit to make the judgment.

Whoever said that you can't teach an old dog new tricks was only half right. Even slow learners have a 50/50 chance of eventually getting it right.

Comments

[Sherry]

I think I know what you're writing about here. If I'm right, well I did that myself recently and it cost me dearly.

However life moves on and we hope we have learned something. Or in my case we pray we have so we don't do it again.

I hope you are well and plan to write more.

[Kevin]

I'd like to write more here, because here is where I wrestle with the issues that actually matter to me. While I can't seem to break a lifetime of obsession with ashes and dust, looking back I see the inexorable changes in me shaped by a God who I fear might be as just as He promises.

As always, thank you for your kindness, Sherry.

[Valerie]

Powerful post, Kevin - it really made me stop and think about a current situation that I am in. Thanks for touching my conscience and my heart, as usual. And I do hope you write here more frequently - I am slowly but surely waking back up to the healing power of the written word, both in my own writing and that of others. Raising a two and a half year old (my granddaughter) brings a whole new perspective to my life.

[Kevin]

Thanks, Val. I agree that the written word can have healing power. Unfortunately, it can also have the power to wound, and I've spent too much time employing it for the latter purpose. With the time left allotted to me, I'm going to try to focus on the higher purpose.

As to your family troubles, please know that you are in my prayers.