Chatting about the practice of love

   
Ori­gin: I read Blue Kan­ga­roo a few days ago.Duo­duoyun’s “Divorce“When think­ing about this, I sud­den­ly remem­bered a sen­tence: “Love, mar­riage, or par­ent­ing can all be seen as a process of self-improve­ment or even spir­i­tu­al prac­tice.” I think it makes sense, haha.

   
Coin­ci­den­tal­ly, on the Red Mud Forum, because of the fad­ed roman­tic sen­ti­ment “It’s just that recent­ly I sud­den­ly have a deep doubt on whether I can con­tin­ue to have the abil­i­ty to do this well.” Wen Shuzhix­i­ang wrote an inter­est­ing arti­cle.Two Notes on Being a Father, and uttered anoth­er deeply mov­ing lament: “Being a father is hard, and being a father with a son is even hard­er.” Unex­pect­ed­ly, this trig­gered anoth­er Qiao Mai to sigh: “The frus­tra­tion of being a moth­er is also very strong.”

   
This time I could­n’t help but think of the say­ing “The process of rais­ing a child can also be seen as a spe­cial process of prac­tic­ing love.” And this time, it seems that the ori­gin of “prac­tic­ing love” has grad­u­al­ly become clear­er in my mind.
 

     
That sen­tence (“It’s just that recent­ly I have sud­den­ly had deep doubts about whether I can con­tin­ue to be a good par­ent.”) seems par­tic­u­lar­ly like a response to Fromm in “The Art of Lov­ing”. In that book pub­lished half a cen­tu­ry ago, Fromm said some­thing like this: Most peo­ple have the phys­i­cal abil­i­ty to be par­ents, but many of them do not have the psy­cho­log­i­cal abil­i­ty to be par­ents.
 

     
I would also like to respond to Fromm: But when we begin to deeply doubt whether we are capa­ble of being good par­ents, we begin to psy­cho­log­i­cal­ly have the abil­i­ty to become par­ents.
 

     
This state­ment fol­lows the log­ic of Lao Tzu, who wrote thou­sands of years ago: “To know that you do not know is noble; to not know that you know is dis­eased. The sage is not dis­eased, because he is aware of dis­ease. It is because he is aware of dis­ease that he is free from dis­ease.”
 

     
I par­tic­u­lar­ly like this quote; it’s like a tongue twister: “Eat grapes with­out spit­ting out the skins.” I under­stand Lao Tzu’s mean­ing to be some­thing like this: When we rec­og­nize our own igno­rance, when we deeply feel the prob­lem with our own short­com­ings, we may no longer be ill! — See, this is ancient wis­dom.
 

     
Regard­ing the term “prac­tice of love”, it was of course deeply influ­enced by Fromm. He was also a prac­ti­tion­er, and he was deeply influ­enced by East­ern cul­ture in his lat­er years.
 

     
Anoth­er fig­ure par­tic­u­lar­ly well-known in the chil­dren’s lit­er­a­ture world is C.S. Lewis. His often-quot­ed say­ing, “Chil­dren’s lit­er­a­ture meant only for chil­dren is bad chil­dren’s lit­er­a­ture,” is a reflec­tion of Red Mud’s mot­to, “Mud meant only for chil­dren to play with is not good mud.” C.S. Lewis’s “The Chron­i­cles of Nar­nia” is a clas­sic of fan­ta­sy lit­er­a­ture, and J.K. Rowl­ing has acknowl­edged him as her men­tor. The rea­son for the sev­en “Har­ry Pot­ter” books is like­ly close­ly relat­ed to the sev­en “Nar­nia” books. The strong Chris­t­ian under­tones (though with a more mod­ern, fem­i­nist tone) in the “Har­ry Pot­ter” books are a direct descen­dant of the unde­ni­able Chris­t­ian under­tones of Nar­nia.
 

     
But few know that C.S. Lewis had two oth­er iden­ti­ties: one as a lit­er­ary his­to­ri­an and crit­ic at Oxford Uni­ver­si­ty; the oth­er as a Chris­t­ian ambas­sador. Dur­ing World War II, he deliv­ered Chris­t­ian lec­tures on the radio, bright­en­ing the hearts of many who had already lost their faith. Even few­er know that he aban­doned Chris­tian­i­ty in child­hood, only return­ing to faith in his lat­er years, a fact close­ly tied to his short-lived mar­riage: his first and last intend­ed mar­riage part­ner, the woman he deeply loved, was ter­mi­nal­ly ill, yet he remained with her and stayed with her until her death. Even after her death, he con­tin­ued to be with her through his writ­ing. C.S. Lewis is a par­tic­u­lar­ly typ­i­cal exam­ple of some­one who viewed love as a spir­i­tu­al prac­tice. His spir­i­tu­al prac­tice was Chris­tian­i­ty.
 

     
I only recent­ly learned that From­m’s expe­ri­ence was some­what sim­i­lar. His “The Art of Lov­ing” was com­plet­ed dur­ing a brief peri­od of hap­pi­ness and peace after his fourth mar­riage. After that, his wife also suf­fered from a ter­mi­nal ill­ness and the dis­ease last­ed for a long time. Fromm prac­ticed the “art of lov­ing” through his actions.
 

     
The Art of Lov­ing offers three fun­da­men­tal ele­ments for cul­ti­vat­ing love as an artis­tic prac­tice: first, dis­ci­pline; sec­ond, con­cen­tra­tion; and third, patience. Upon clos­er exam­i­na­tion, these ele­ments close­ly resem­ble the Bud­dhist con­cepts of “pre­cepts, con­cen­tra­tion, and wis­dom.” This sug­gests that Fromm was deeply influ­enced by East­ern cul­ture.
 

     
The prin­ci­ples for teach­ing chil­dren to “love read­ing” are sim­i­lar. First, estab­lish rea­son­able rules, with some rit­u­al­is­tic qual­i­ties, to con­strain both the child and the read­er. Sec­ond, cul­ti­vate their atten­tion by read­ing aloud, and cul­ti­vate the habit of qui­et read­ing through con­tin­u­ous silent reading—essentially, con­cen­tra­tion. Third, per­se­vere. The prin­ci­ple of help­ing chil­dren fall in love with read­ing is actu­al­ly quite sim­ple.
 

     
Par­ent­ing can be seen as a prac­tice of love, as can dat­ing and mar­riage. Their great­est advan­tage is that prac­ti­tion­ers have a clear object of prac­tice. There­fore, any­one with com­mon sense should be able to real­ize that chil­dren and lovers are the best gifts bestowed by God.
 

     
By exten­sion, a per­son­’s entire life can be con­sid­ered a prac­tice of love. Of course, this is more dif­fi­cult, as it often lacks a sense of pur­pose. There­fore, Chris­tian­i­ty empha­sizes uni­ver­sal love, Con­fu­cian­ism advo­cates “Respect the elder­ly as your own, and the young as your own,” and Bud­dhism empha­sizes the Bod­hisatt­va path. In short, it all comes down to extend­ing one’s own kind­ness to oth­ers, as the say­ing goes, “Do not do to oth­ers what you do not want oth­ers to do to you.” But this is indeed dif­fi­cult.
 

     
There­fore, the path of spir­i­tu­al prac­tice is tru­ly long, and life holds many joys ahead. Peo­ple with chil­dren are rel­a­tive­ly more for­tu­nate, pri­mar­i­ly because spir­i­tu­al prac­tice is cheap­er (con­ve­nient and appro­pri­ate). Haha~