On Love

I have been single for most of my life. I have heard, and still hear, about how I should find someone, that when I get older it will be harder, that I must be feeling lonely. And yet…I don’t.

While studying for my Bachelor’s, my major was Psychology but one of my minors was Philosophy. I loved the subject as it suited my tendency to reflect on things in much greater depth. It was in this subject that I learned about a conceptualization of love that made me feel a little less concerned about why I didn’t feel upset when I didn’t seek out, or reciprocate, love. Or, more specifically, one type of love that my friends and family wanted me to find.

The Ancient Greeks are known for their approaches to anything vague which could lend itself to philosophical thought. According to these great thinkers, there are 8 types of love. Not only are each of these related to different expressions (and sometimes different targets) of love, they are also not mutually exclusive.

The 8 types of love are Eros, Pragma, Ludus, Storge, Mania, Philia, Agape, and Philautia. Eros, Pragma, Ludus and Mania are primarily romantic; Storge and Philia are primarily geared towards family and/or friends; and, finally, Agape and Philautia are associated with self-love.

Eros is the most well-known expression of love – passionate love. THIS is the form of love that my family and friends want me to find. The one in movies. The one we first think of when we think about the world ‘love’. The one we think about when we say we’re looking for chemistry. Often seen during the early period of a romantic relationship, it is characterized by pleasure and lust. While for many Eros is also the start of their “great love”, the Ancient Greeks were nonetheless very wary of it, considering it the most dangerous, as one could lose their ability to process and think in favor of a fulfillment of the primitive and innate drive to procreate.

Pragma is known as long-lasting or enduring love. Love that spans years, and is characterized by commitment and maturity. In terms of romance, it may be prioritized over, or even replace, the initial passion felt by the partners – much like how the sharp, beautiful yet unsteady edges of a cliff may erode with time, being replaced with a plainer, but smoother and firmer, structure. Hence, when people speak of the passion being lost in the relationship, the question for them is not if they “fell out of love”, but rather if their love changed.

Ludus, or ‘playful love’ may be seen as the love that we feel initially towards a romantic partner. This type of love is characterized by superfluity, a frivolous endeavor for which there are no objectives or goals. That crush you had in high school? Flirting with someone? Those are examples of Ludus. While Ludus does at times leads to more passion, or even to a continuous relationship founded on continuous flirting, the outcome is almost inevitably either giving into Eros which leads into commitment to each other (therein being more like Pragma) or seeking the same elsewhere (a continuation of Ludus with different partners).

Mania, as a term in itself, refers to something that is frantic and obsessive. It should come as no surprise, then, that Mania as a form of love is also known as obsessive love, and is characterized by possessiveness and jealousy. To it’s extreme, it is expressed through stalking. In today’s virtual world, it can be expressed in the continuous checking of – and often commenting on – social media posts from the person of interest. The line between Eros and Mania is sometimes unclear, passion sometimes leading to obsession or obsession being an extreme form of passion. Ludus, too, can sometimes be associated with Mania, especially if one party begins to take the flirting more seriously than the other.

As stated earlier, love isn’t just between romantic partners. Storge and Philia do not relate to romantic love but rather love with family and friends.

Storge, or familiar love, is that which is shared with family or even friends who are close as family. Like Pragma, it includes some level of endurance. Characterized by loyalty, Storge is not targeted towards romantic partners as Pragma is. This is the type of love expressed when we say we would do anything for a person. It is the form of love when we say we love our parents , grandparents, siblings, cousins…and not all of these are blood relatives.

Philia is considered friendship love (although, before Aristotle renamed it, it was brotherly love). We often find this in our solidarity and patriotism. This is the love we have for “fellow man”. When our own people are threatened, at risk, such as in the case of African Americans and Asian Americans, we can see how our grief at the injustice against these populations come out of a threat to those with whome we share philic love. It is also this same type of love that supports individuals who systemically encourage such injustice. In this case, Philia – as with all emotions – overrules the thought processes with which we could objectively determine if our actions were just or not.

And so we come to the past two forms of love. Agape and Philautia are both self-love, but differ in one major aspect – one refers to the world beyond oneself, and the other is oneself in the world.

Agape, or selfless love, is characterized by generosity and charity. Focusing on the self in the world, this form of love is what we express when we do for others. Unlike the other forms of love, there is no one specific target – this is a more general love where we favor others before we favor ourselves. The ostensible expression of this is charity and sharing joy with others through multiple paths – artists, therapists, retail workers, everyone does it in some form or another. The other, more subtle, way is when we identify ourselves as nurturers, or find ourselves “gunning for the underdog”.

Then we have the opposite – Philautia, or self love. Yes, it can go to the extreme, which is what we know as narcissism. However, it is actually the form of love that we often encourage and more often than not find the most challenging. Sometimes we neglect it, at other times we do it and then label it as ‘selfish’ or ‘immodest’. It is love of the self, of who one is in essence. Not on the basis of how others define us or describe us, but how we know ourselves. After all, we often hear that to love others, we should love ourselves first. Everything from self-care, self-respect, to boundary-setting with others; all of these are an expression of Philautia.

I like to think that the Ancient Greeks had it right. There is not just one form of love, and merging all of these forms into one abstract, vague cloud sets us up for more than one type of misconception. It is possible to transition between the forms of love, and it is just as possible that one form of love can be experienced in its own right.

And this is where I stand. Yes, I do not seek out or reciprocate Eros, Pragma, Ludus, or Mania. But what I miss in not seeking these out I find in the rich experience I have with Storage, Philia, Agape and Philautia. In the end, my “great love” may not be romantic love at all!

Anything Can Happen

Like a soldier in an enemy camp
She moves silently
Watchful eyes ahead
Ears perked to sounds behind.

Its a short walk to the store,
Just down the way and round the corner.
Yet in her heart she knows
Anything can happen in this short time.

Glancing down every driveway,
Scanning every street,
She looks for signs of life
That could be threatening

Not that she has seen any
Over the past 3 years
But anything can happen
In this short time.

Wait a second.
Her steps slow down
Almost stopping altogether.
A man turns the corner up ahead.

She begins walking again,
Slower than before as she approaches him
Eyes even sharper,
Ears now trained to the front.

As they pass each other,
She speeds up
Her ears once again perked behind
For sounds from a man who had said nothing

She reminds herself
she will see people as she walks
And in front of the store;
Nothing has happened…

“Yet.”
Says her heart.
Anything can happen
In this short time.

Wanderlust

At 39, I finally got my US driver’s license and a car of my own. I used to drive my parents’ car in India; I have a driver’s license there, too. There are a differences here.

Apart from the obvious, of course – less traffic, better rules, the side we drive on…The other, more personal, difference is my mindset. Driving my parents’ car in India necessitated only driving the car when and where they wished. And that makes sense; the car is a convenience – and now a necessity – for them at this age.

But for me, it felt more and more like a chore to be driving from point to point for specific goals. The constant need for vigilance on roads that were too packed and – more often than not – like a battlefield of competing commuters trying to ‘get there first’, was exhausting. I rarely, if ever, got something out of it other than my parents, or myself, reaching the desired location.

Today, as I write this, I am contemplating how I have driven to another state (about an hour and a half away) 8 times since I got the car a month ago. I find myself wondering how long it will be before I’m on the road again, planning the next trip and allowing for changes in my plan. Almost like I’m reminding myself, reaffirming for myself, the fact that I have freedom here.

As a Third Culture Kid, I often felt rootless – not completely home in India, nor in Hong Kong. This was depressing as a child, as it felt like I never knew where I belonged. But it became liberating as an adult; I was not tied to any one place, which suited me just fine. Just like my tastes in music, film, food – and, indeed, life choices – I am a global citizen. I don’t give any one place more value than another; not by country, state or city.

Throughout my life, I learned several languages because I could. I talked about the differences of British rule in Hong Kong and India because I could. I chose to move to a country other than India or Hong Kong…because I could. I developed an awareness of the difference between discrimination and ignorance because I could. There’s a reason why “I can” indicates an ability AND a choice to do something.

This liberation to choose, however, was until recently stunted by the fact that I could not PHYSICALLY wander the way I wished. As a child, it was limited to what was decided by my parents. As an adult in India, it was a matter of linear travel; from point A to point B without diversion. Here, there was a freedom to be without a destination…but no way to enjoy it. In the end, I was restricted either by destination or by means; my rootlessness had limits.

The first time I drove to another state, I found myself wanting to go further. So, instead of just entering the state and then leaving it, I opted to stop at a gas station, get some food at a drive-thru, and the drive back home. None of this was planned – it was a spur of the moment decision made based simply on the fact that I could.

Having a car and being free to use it as needed or desired is, for me, a symbol. A symbol of travel without limits. A symbol of my pride in being rootless. A symbol of my wanderlust without boundaries.

Enjoy the Silence.

I have ADHD, I am considered an extrovert, and my being quiet has often led to others believing that I am depressed. The truth is, however…I recognize the importance of being with myself in silence.

How often do we face silence and either try to fill it with words or with doing something (like play with our phones)? Silence is difficult for most people – when we are with another person, we feel like there should be some form of communication happening. When there ISN’T anyone around, we seek them out virtually.

Admittedly, no man (or woman, or child) is an island. Social well-being is, after all, a part of our overall well-being. But words are not the only way we can be social. Indeed, verbal communication makes up only a quarter of what we are sharing with another.

Those silences? They are actually full of conversation, we just don’t realize it. Consider how some silences feel comfortable while others agitate us. How we perceive the silence depends on so many things – It might be the person we’re with, or the context, our expectations or what we think the other person expects. It may even be the impression we want to make.

Silence is, in fact, an opportunity to use our non-verbal skills to express what we would use words for. I recall sitting next to my sister in silence one day. She sat there on her phone, I sat next to her, desperately restraining myself from telling her “you know, it’s rude to be on your phone when I’m sitting right here. If nothing, at least we could DO something together”. I knew from experience, however, that verbalizing this often led to arguments which I did not want to waste my time on.

So, I tried something new – I turned towards her at an angle, took my phone out and fiddled with it, but looked up at her in intervals. At one point, she caught my eye and asked, “what?” My response was simple – “if you’re done, can we do something together?” I had not said anything to catch her attention, and yet she heard me loud and clear. There is a reason that non-verbal communication makes up more than half of our communication (if you’re wondering, the other quarter of communication is para-verbal, sounds that replace words (like grunts, or “m-hmm”).

Of course, at times it is silence because there IS no one to talk to; an imposed silence (unless you listen to music, watch something electronically, or talk to yourself). However, even in this case, silence can be valuable. It is in silence that we can focus our attention inwards. Physically, our senses do not need to work as hard as they do otherwise – there is nothing to hear, nothing to say. No observations to make of the person in front of us. Instead, we can hear sounds we would not have paid attention to otherwise, natural (birds singing, trees and leaves rustling) or not (whirring refrigerator or air conditioner). In fact, one of the strategies for mindfulness involves focusing on what our senses perceive in complete silence so as to validate existing in the present.

Meanwhile, silence does not necessarily mean inactivity – we may not move around much, but our minds most definitely are. What has happened, what is happening, what will happen…our minds do not stop. When we are ensconced in silence, with our senses demanding less of us, we have the opportunity to direct our thoughts the way WE want them to go, without having them directed by unconscious processes or emotional states. Self-reflection, questioning the validity of how we thought about events or experiences we had, gleaning from them what we learned and where we confirmed our old strengths and found new ones…silence can involve a great deal more growth than we give it credit for.

So embrace silence. Use it. It isn’t an unnecessary and redundant vacuum – it is full of possibilities.

Is it Time for a Change?

I have been working in the same place for 3 years now. I am a clinician and a clinical trainer. Simply put, I see clients and I also train others who will be seeing clients. This unique combination of roles came about when my employers realized that I had experience as a therapist AND as a teacher. Given my desire to help as many people as possible, even those who aren’t my clients, this dual role suited me perfectly.

At this point in my life I find myself in a quandary, however. In terms of career growth, it may well be time for me to move on. I am aware that I could be paid better, and that I am a valid candidate for jobs that I always wanted to take on. I would also have many more needs addressed if I moved on than if I stayed where I am. Although my clientele would change, I would still be helping people. Meanwhile, it could also address my pre-existing assumptions about the types of clients I would work with in different places.

Then again, it will be difficult to find a place where I can do what I am able to here. I have carved such a deep niche for myself here that I know my departure would significantly affect the organization that took a chance with me. This IS my first job after my MS degree, and in the US, after all. Meanwhile, this dual role of clinician and trainer came about to address difficulties that I myself was facing at work. At the same time, several individuals at the executive level have actively worked on me getting a higher salary. A part of me, then, feels guilty about leaving.

There is another, more personal, concern – being a Third-Culture Adult, it is often hard to stay in one place for too long – moving around is a natural part of who I am. The query, then, is whether or not my desire to move is actually based on self-development or giving in to a personal inclination which, in the end, could lead to me shooting myself in the foot.

This has led to me looking for other jobs but not applying for any. I notice a shift in my attention, however, from obstinately sticking to my current job to exploring other options. As my family has said in the past, just looking at other options doesn’t mean I’m going to get another job right away. And that is true. I do, however, know that there are quite a few places that would hire me if they knew I was looking for a job, my visa needs notwithstanding. I am licensed, hold three Masters and two Bachelors degrees, and have been working with clients from the age of 4 to 58 years the whole time that I have been working. I pride myself in being able to take on various tasks not related to my “job position” when it’s needed. Also, there is always a need for mental health professionals in some part of the world.

It has taken me 3 years to begin considering a change, and it has slowly phased into my life. First, looking at Indeed online. Then, downloading the app. Now, editing my resumé, which – ironically – is needed for my current job. The more I do, the more my ambivalence grows. I want to leave, but I don’t want to leave. Once again, bringing to mind simultaneously the fact that we all face ambivalence with regards to behavior change, and that we can never be our own therapists!

Today’s post is not about a therapeutic approach or how I observe and experience the world around me. Rather, it is a self-exploration that has yet to reach a conclusion. Stay tuned for further developments!

Kids Say the Darndest Things: The Case for Keeping it Simple

People say as you grow older, things become clearer thanks to our life experiences. I agree with that, but I noticed something different, too. I think we all could do with a little regression. Why would I suggest that we all go against our physical, cognitive and emotional progress? Because progress also means elaboration, which is sometimes completely unnecessary, or even harmful.

Think about it. How often have you heard a kid say something that startles you? Sometimes, they make you think about something in a whole new light, or answer a question in a way that we didn’t even think of ourselves. And perhaps the reason that it strikes us is because what we were pondering for hours, days, or maybe even years, was answered in less than 5 minutes by someone decades younger than us. And it stuns us because of how simple it was.

Kids wait for us to tell them what we think. But as adults, we start believing we can read another person’s thoughts. We plan meticulously how to create something, kids just leap into making it (and sometimes do it better than we ever could!) We keep thinking of success as a long, drawn-out and endless journey; kids celebrate successes every day, sometimes with us accompanying them in doing so.

We naturally evolve as we grow. Of course we see things as more complex, that not everything is black and white, it’s not all or nothing, etc, etc. Sometimes we ARE right, it’s not so simple. Even when it isn’t, however, just how far down the rabbit hole are we going to go? We think a single thought, go into “if a then b”, then it becomes “unless b is c, then if a then c”…our thoughts go from just a single thought to a web of thoughts, each with their own emotions, physical responses and behaviors. Kids say “but what if we just act on a and see what happens?”

In “The Value of Being Immature”, I mention that kids act and learn from consequences of their actions. As adults, we try to preempt negative consequences by thinking about what may happen if we do something. Sometimes we are able to avoid negative consequences, at other times we can’t. Because we can’t predict the result of our actions – the world is not under our control, nor can we predict how it will react to our actions.

If we do face negative consequences, we don’t just try again later, or think “ok, I’m not doing THAT again!” and try to think of another action instead – basically, what a kid might do. Instead, we tear apart our actions, we berate ourselves for not thinking about something in advance, we don’t try again or try to find another solution completely different from what we did earlier. We think and think about courses of action, worry ourselves about what could happen, and sometimes decide not to try at all.

How often have we thought about doing something, ‘predicted’ it would go badly, and stopped ourselves from doing it? It took me at least 15 years to start writing this blog, worrying about how people would react and deciding it was safer to keep my thoughts to myself. I realized I was getting suffocated by all these ideas that I wanted to share, so I finally acted. The world would react as it will.

It took even longer to tell my family how I felt about the roles they were either intentionally or unintentionally making me play which were at opposites to my true nature. My fear of excessively negative – and very hurtful – reactions was winning this fight, but suppressing my desire to say something hurt more, so I took the plunge. Sure enough, I had to weather a storm of negative consequences. But I felt freer, and over time they understood my point.

Kids truly are doing what we could benefit from doing ourselves. Speaking their minds because no one else can. Acting as they see fit because experiencing consequences themselves is the only way they can learn. Feeling how they feel without guilt or shame for feeling that way. Because every action has consequences, and we have no control over the response we will get (nor can we predict it). Because even as kids, we have the capacity to try again, to tolerate negative consequences and to terminate or replace our actions accordingly (again, with accompanying changes in thought and emotion). Because as adults, we do have more choices in how to think, act, and feel – and often the best choice is what we did as kids.

Just do it. Whatever will be will be.

The Value of Being Immature

I am a 39 years old woman. I have often, however, heard how I am naive, or child-like, or even immature. For the longest time, I resented being told these. It’s amazing how our perspectives can change with a little self-reflection.

It occurred to me one day that it is just as easy for me to be an adult as it is for me to be a child. Since I believe that no one thing can exist without its opposite (e.g. we know sadness because we know what happiness feels like, we know light because we’ve seen dark), it started to make sense that with being mature, we are naturally childish at times.

Thinking about it, I have always been able to develop relationships with kids. Indeed, when I started my current job, my clients were children for the most part. Out of 48 clients, I had – at one point – only 2 young adults. All the rest were between the ages of 4 and 10 years.

My child-like nature is what I use when I connect with my younger clients. I maintain confidentiality even with a 4 years old child (although I do tell them that I can help them tell something to their caregiver if they want). I play games with them, join them in their excitement at the little things, and – perhaps most importantly – ask parents not to consider behaviors as “bad” but rather as exploratory.

Exploration is one of the ways we learn. We try something out, if it leads to good consequences we keep doing it. If it doesn’t, we stop. Classic operant conditioning, right? It’s something we do throughout our lives, the difference being that we are capable of thinking before taking action as adults while, as children, we act and then learn from the consequences.

That doesn’t mean that we are always insightful as adults, though – we’ve all attempted something in our lives that hasn’t led to good consequences and decided not to do that again. After all, we are not omniscient, we can’t predict everything in the world. So, sometimes our explorations are much like those that kids do. Yes, sometimes we are ALL childish.

Going back to my belief that one thing can only exist because we know of its opposite, we often know we are being mature if we look at times when we were childish. The difference, however is HOW we look at it. What if we looked at our previous behavior without judgment? Not with “I can’t believe I ever thought that!” but rather with a sense of “well, that was I thought at the time” or “I learned something new from that”? And with the acceptance that taking action and facing negative consequences of it can happen again, and that would be OK?

Essentially, being childish isn’t a bad thing. Because it is a part of who we are – we had to be a child to get to where we are today. Valuing the child in us doesn’t negate our maturity – it adds to it.

Neurotic New York…?

A while ago, I read an article by Rentfrow, Gosling and Potter (2016) that correlated each state with one personality trait from Costa and McRae’s Big Five personality traits. Among the correlations, one that stayed in my mind was the correlation between New York and Neuroticism. To the unversed, neuroticism is “a tendency toward anxiety, depression, self-doubt, and other negative feelings” (from ‘Psychology Today’).

I was reminded of an incident that took place when I lived in New York. I was talking a stroll one day, and a man in a suit came from behind me and glared at me as he walked by, much like how a driver might do to a car that he has overtaken. The irony? When I came to the crosswalk, he was standing there just as I was…and studiously avoiding looking at me! Meanwhile, my mind went to one thing – “what’s wrong with taking it slow?”

Of course, there are people who enjoy the hustle and bustle of New York, and some people thrive in the constantly moving, ever animated city. The endlessly changing landscape that leads to whole new experiences of the city within the span of a few months has its appeal, as does the continuous growth that New York embodies. Indeed, I have received my share of incredulous looks because I prefer Springfield to New York – how can you NOT love New York?

For me, while I lived in New York, the energy around me made me walk faster, think faster, and always wonder what was next. Thinking about step 16 when I was only on step 2 became a norm. Making plans, changing them, making new ones – how can I tackle this activity most efficiently so I can spend less time on it, do well on it and also go on to the next activity? There was no time to enjoy what I had succeeded at doing – because there was always something I hadn’t even started on yet.

But it took moving to a quiet city that confirmed for me the fact that the “New York me” wasn’t actually who I am. Taking strolls, stopping oh-so-often to simply look at the sky or listen to a bird, people-watching, asking someone I see regularly how they are and actually stopping to hear their answers…for me, these seem natural. These little acts are where I stop for a second, where I take my little breaks in the rat race of life.

The great Chinese philosopher Lao Tzu once said, “If you are depressed you are living in the past. If you are anxious you are living in the future. If you are at peace you are living in the present.” From a therapist’s perspective, that makes perfect sense. Indeed, depression and anxiety are two sides of the same coin for a reason; you’re anxious about something coming up, your anxiety affects how you do at it, you remember this “failure” and it is a source of depression for you. You then become anxious that you never want to do that poorly again, something new comes up, your anxiety gets in the way, and the cycle begins again.

Vacillating between frenetic efforts to be perfect, and listlessness when reality hits us that we are not, seems a part of life in more fast-paced worlds. Being like King Sisyphus, cursed to eternally push a boulder uphill, only it is not Zeus but our very own natures that have cursed us. Movement is a lack of staying still. Having ADHD, I know that it is sometimes just HARD to stay still! But moving all the time isn’t healthy, either – the word “peace” itself does not conjure up an image of motion, but one of rest.

Peace comes through living in the here and now. As it is characterized by stillness, physical or otherwise, movement is missing. For those who are constantly on the move, being still may be seen as a waste of time. Still, although things slow down, they do not stop just because we take our lives a day at a time. You will lose nothing by waiting for the pedestrian light to turn green (or white) instead of jaywalking – that bus is not the last one. It will not be the end of the world if you do not buy all the groceries you need in a single trip, the things you missed will still be there the next time you go. The sun will not disappear forever if you put your phone away for the duration of your commute home; rather, there may be something worth seeing out there instead!

So, do I believe in the correlation that New York has with Neuroticism? Without a doubt. But do I believe that every New Yorker is doomed to be neurotic? No. As long as we stay in the present, even for an hour a day, each and every one of us can avoid that fate. But that’s just what I think.