Chapter 3 Pathology of Love

The first thing: There are two kinds of love. C.S. Lewis divides love into two types: need-love and gift-love. Abraham Maslow also divides love into two types: the first is called deficiency-love, and the second is called being-love. This distinction is meaningful and must be understood.

Love born of need or lack is dependent on the other; it is immature love. It's not true love—it's a need. You're using the other person, using them as a means to an end. You exploit, you use, you dominate. But the other person is diminished, almost destroyed. To be precise, the other person is doing the same thing; they're trying to use you, dominate you, possess you, and exploit you. Using others is unloving; it merely appears to be love—it's counterfeit. But this happens to almost 99% of people because you learn your first lesson about love in your childhood.

A child is born, dependent on his mother. His love for his mother is "love of lack"; he needs her, he cannot survive without her. He loves his mother because she is his life. In reality, there is no love here; he will go on to love any woman—whoever can protect him, help him survive, and meet his needs. His mother is a kind of food he eats; he takes not only milk from her, but also love—that too is a need.

Millions of people retain their childlike innocence throughout their lives; they never truly grow up. Their physical age increases, but their spirit never matures; their minds remain childlike and immature. They always crave love, as much as they crave food.

The moment a person matures, they begin to love more than they need. They begin to overflow and share; they begin to give. The focus is completely different. The first person's focus is on how to receive more; the second person's focus is on how to give, how to give more, how to give unconditionally. This is growth, maturity coming to you. A mature person gives, and only a mature person can give, because only a mature person possesses it.

Love no longer needs dependence; you can be love, whether or not there are others. Love is not a relationship; it is a state. What would happen if all the disciples disappeared and only I remained? Do you think anything would change? When a flower blooms in a deep forest, and no one appreciates it, no one knows its fragrance, no one comments "beautiful," no one feels its beauty, its joy, no one shares it—what would happen to the flower? Its death, its pain, would it panic? Would it commit suicide? It would continue to bloom; it would simply continue to bloom, whether or not anyone passes by, it wouldn't be any different. It wouldn't matter at all; it would continue to spread its fragrance on the wind. It would continue to offer joy to God, to the whole.

If I were alone, I would be filled with the same love as when I am with you. It was not you or anyone else who created my love. If you could create my love, then naturally, when you leave, my love will cease to exist. You cannot take my love away—I show it to you: it is the love of giving, it is the love of being.

However, I don't really agree with Lewis and Abraham Matthew. The first kind of love they called "love" wasn't love; it was a need. How can a need become love? Love is a luxury, it is abundant, it has so much life that you don't know what to do with it, so you share. There are so many songs in your heart that you have to sing them—whether anyone listens or not doesn't matter. If no one listens, you still have to sing it, and you will have to dance your dance.

Others may gain it, may lose it—but you don't care, it flows, it overflows. Rivers don't flow for you, whether they are there or not, they will continue to flow. They don't flow for your thirst, don't flow for your parched fields, they simply flow. You can quench your thirst, you can miss it—that's up to you. Rivers don't really flow for you, they simply flow. You can draw water from them to your fields, for your needs, that's accidental, its secondary function. A teacher is a river, the disciple is accidental. The teacher is flowing, you can participate, you can appreciate, you can share in his presence. You can be overwhelmed by him, but he's not for you. He doesn't flow specifically for you, he simply flows. Remember this, I call it mature love, true love, trustworthy love, real love.

There is always distress when you depend on others. The moment you become dependent, you begin to feel pain. Because dependence is servile. Then you begin to retaliate in a subtle way. Because people are forced to depend on those stronger than themselves. But no one likes anyone becoming stronger than them, no one likes to depend on others. Because dependence kills freedom, love cannot blossom through dependence. Love is the flower of freedom—it needs space. It needs complete space. No one else can interfere with it; it is very fragile. When you are dependent, others will naturally dominate you, and you will try to dominate them. That is the war between those called lovers. They are intimate enemies—constantly at war. Husbands and wives—what are they doing? Love is very rare, war is the norm, love is the exception. In every aspect they try to rule—even through love they try to dominate.

If a husband asks his wife for something and she refuses—she's reluctantly doing so. She seems very uncomfortable. She gives, but reluctantly. She wants you to wag your tail around her. The same thing happens to the husband; when his wife needs something and asks him for it, he says he's tired. There's too much work at the office—he's "really overworked"—and he wants to sleep.

Now this seems paradoxical: those who fall in love have no love of their own, and that's why they fall in love. Because they have no love of their own, they cannot give. And there's more: an immature person always falls in love with another immature person because only they can understand each other's language. A mature person loves a mature person. An immature person loves an immature person. You can keep changing your husband or wife a thousand and one times, you will keep finding the same type of woman, the same pain repeated in different forms—but all are repetitions of the same pain, they are almost identical. You can change your wife, but you don't. Now who will choose another wife? You will choose. That choice comes from your immaturity again. You will choose the same type of wife again. The fundamental question of love is first to become mature, and then you will find a mature partner. At that time, an immature person will not attract you at all, just as you wouldn't fall in love with a two-year-old if you were 25. To be precise, if you are a psychologically and spiritually mature person, you won't fall in love with a baby. It won't happen, it can't happen. You can see how meaningless it would be.