Something about 20 years ago, I was perfectly sure I wanted to be a Medical Doctor. Dada was a proud father, mama was full of adoration too… just about a day after I made my official announcement, dada presented me with a full baby doctor kit. I was excited! One symptom of fever, and I was right to the rescue. One complaint about headache, and my stethoscope was put to test. I was an efficient badass baby doctor!
A couple of classes down the line, and the reality dawned on me. I wasnt born to dissect cockroaches, lizards, and ants, much less humans; neither was I cut out to calculate chemical compounds and figure laws on gravity and atomic molecules. Dont get me wrong, I loved to be a doctor (concept); I just couldnt stand the journey that led to that path (form).
I guess at this point, you will wonder what the morale of my story is? This is it. Just this morning, I read a piece on relationships that brought my mind back to how we as humans tend to love the notion of something and erroneously mistake it for the love of the “thing” in question. We love the notion of being in love, the notion of being wealthy, famous and influential, but fail to understand that the love of a state is not the love of its being. And it is sad that in the end, only a few realise the thin line between these two extremes as being so essential to determining the quality of the lives we live.
Why do you do medicine (for example)? Because you want/wanted to be a doctor or because you love practising it? Why are you in a relationship with him/her? Because you love the notion/concept of being in a relationship/being in love, or because you love the person in question? I think that sad enough, this line is so thin that it becomes invisible; and we often cannot truly tell what our intentions for engaging in certain things are, except in retrospect when the results we expect or expected from those things fail to materialise.
However, I think that regardless, we must begin with a certain kind of consciousness, and maybe if necessary sit ourselves to ask this one pertinent question as often as the awareness tickles: why am I doing what I am doing? The test to knowing, asI read and honestly agree with, is this: if you take the object in question– say the profession or the person you are dating or want to date– out of the equation, and replace it with another similar thing, and realise that you will be unaffected by this change, the odds are that you are in love with a notion, a concept, a mere existential state, rather than the form and being of what you think you are in love with.
But again, these are just my thoughts. What do you think?
©The Short Black Girl, 2016.