Love is perhaps one of the most corrupted words. It has been so defiled that nobody knows what it means any more. “I love chocolate.” “I love this song.” “I love you.” “I love my friends”. “I love you, my princes, my queen!” Yet all these statements are far from what is real. Some of them - a mother’s love for her children, perhaps - come tantalizingly close, but so often they are merely egoic games parading as sorry substitutes.
All these false loves are nothing more than clinging, attachment, duty, a weapon. They’ve been straitjacketed by rules and structures and conditions and games. And at the core, they are all about the self.
Love is the opposite. It has no clinging. It doesn’t get attached. It gives and thinks nothing of getting. A romantic thinks of oneself, a lover thinks of the other.
“ The unexamined life is not worth living " Socrates
“Because only we, contrary to the barbarians, never count the enemy in battle.” - Aeschylus - (Father of T
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