Better To Have Loved & Lost?

It's funny how sometimes things will happen in your life that otherwise seem unrelated, but when you think about them are kind of about the same thing.

I recently put an end to my dry spell of novel reading and found an amazing book called The Time Traveller's Wife by Audrey Niffenegger. Perhaps it's just that it came to me at the right time, but I'm pretty sure this book is just un-frigging-believable.

Anyway, one of the ideas explored in this book is that of losing something/someone that you love. And in light of recent responses to my last blog, I think that it's an idea worth exploring a little more.

This book had me in tears. I found it so profoundly moving - the idea of waiting for your soul mate and the fear of losing them when they finally come - struck a chord in me that I'm sure must resonate with others also. My inability to control the world around me has left me in a cold sweat many, many times.

And so it got me to thinking: When we are single, many of us go to great lengths: removing hair in the bizarrest of places, engaging in the boringest/strangest/stupidest activities to lure to us "the one" we are meant to be with. If it takes too long for us to find that person, we begin to fret (see Trippy Gal's comment to previous blog).

I suppose that it's not without good reason that we engage in this worrying. I mean, nobody wants to spend eternity alone (or worse yet, spend eternity dating every weirdo out there). There is an innate need to connect with another human being and feel at peace knowing that we are loved unconditionally. We fear that the possibility exists that we will die never knowing this feeling.

The flip side of this fear, of course, is for those who have found "the one." For those people, the deepest fear is in losing their beloved - perhaps to some bizarre twist of fate beyond their control - a speeding car, a devastating illness - or perhaps to some grave error in judgement - the realization that you and your loved one aren't meant to be, a misspent evening, or what-have-you. And this fear is well-founded as well. For example, my own marriage exists at the expense of someone else's. In this case, one is left not only bereft of their loved one, but also with a feeling of inadequacy, the pain of rejection.

The fears get worse the more attachments you make; it runs in every direction; from the very centre of you out to your parents, whom you see aging (however gracefully), knowing that your time with them is finite; to your partner, whom you love with all your heart and could not bear to be without; and of course, to your children, who seem to hold within them the ability to stop your heart altogether. How on earth can one contend with all the myriad possibilities for loss?

When you look at it in this light (as The Time Traveller's Wife made me do) it seems as though the only way to avoid these pains are to avoid making attachments at all. If you are a Buddhist, then you're already on the right path for this. For the rest of us, however, the path is not so clearly marked. Like I said, the innate need for human connection is a strong one.

So what is the answer?

I guess it's probably different for everyone. For me though, there's no question - it's worth the risk. To live in fear of losing something you love is a far better misery than the fear which causes one not to try - to avoid those relationships which may cause rejection, loss and heartache.

And besides, the possibilities for joy are too numerous to avoid. I'm sure the Dalai Lama himself would have to admit that there is a great difficulty in not attaching oneself to the many wonderful things that life has to offer. So if you're still waiting for "the one" to come along, why not enjoy what there is in the mean time?