Love is not one single emotion. When I say "I love pizza," I'm not saying the same thing as when I say "I love my Michelle."
How does one begin to describe a thing that means so much?
I once had a conversation with a fellow philosophy student - David, in fact. A recurring theme of our philosophic discussions has been the problem of personal identity. The issue is a complex one. In some sense, everyone who reads this today is "the same" person as when they were born. And yet, adults are not the same as children - there are many differences - so we're not the same as when we were born. How can we be - today - the same as when we were born, yet not the same as when we were born? For that matter, how can we be the same and yet not the same person as we were yesterday?
There are several very good explanations of this, and of other problems of personal identity - but I haven't read one that was entirely satisfactory.
At any rate, I expressed the opinion to David that any theory of personal identity ought to account for feelings of grief. At the time, he thought it quite odd that I should say this. "But," I said, "how can you explain that a person feels like a part of themselves has been taken away when a loved one dies? Isn't it likely that a feeling of drastic change within one's self - subjective though that feeling might be - doesn't it give us some insight into what personal identity is?"
Anyone who has personally felt, or heard vividly described, the sense of personal loss and emptiness that accompanies the death of a loved one, will appreciate what I mean. It seems reasonable that a theory of personal identity should be able to "handle" such feelings - someone's sense that they have become different, in general; and the sense of having become different as a result of losing a loved one, specifically.
We know that certain functions and capabilities of the brain - preprocessing, perception, memory, the ability to reason, motor control - are somewhat independant, being centered in distinct areas. Perhaps what we experience as consciousness is, in part, the communication that takes place between these structures within the brain.
It could be analogous to a conversation that takes place between semi-distinct yet interdependant parts. In a mentally healthy individual, it may be more like a ballet, wherein all the parts have learned to perform in coordination and with alacrity. In contrast, one who experiences cognitive dissonance may be depressed or unusually tired mentally.
So, what causes this feeling of personal change when we lose a loved one?
When we love someone deeply, we feel a kind of familiarity. We depend on that other person to provide input much like we depend on the various cognitive structures that make up our own selves. When we lose that, realizing that we won't be getting it back, we get a sense of emptiness. All the dancers can carry out their moves in concert - but the presentation is lacking, and some aspects are impossible, because a dancer is missing.
Michelle is capable of seeing things I cannot see. She understands things that I don't understand - until she explains them to me. Things that need to be done, she does when I don't have time, or the necessary inclination or imagination. She is capable of interacting with some people on a level I cannot reach.
Michelle can hold me - I can't hold myself! She can laugh at my jokes - I can't laugh at them myself! (Well, I can sometimes, but it's not nearly the same.) We made a family together - certainly couldn't have done that by myself!
Here's to you, my Michelle. You are actually my better half.
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p.s. Here's to Michelle. (Picture me holding a cup of coffee aloft.) You're a better woman than I am, that's for sure!
I swear I posted two comments! What did blogger do with the original one?!
Blogger ate my post too.... [grinds teeth].
Anyway... I'll try again:
I think that the problem you're having is because of the words we use. When you say that you 'love' pizza & *love* your wife you may be using the same word but I'll bet that you actually mean very different things to you.
As to personal identity... We are certainly different people in our teens, twenties and so on - yet 'feel' that we are the same. Maybe its a bit like a relay race where the runners are the different versions of us as we grow up and our personal identity is the baton they hand over as the race progresses? Maybe they even change batons sometimes when no-one is watching.... [grin].
My Michael,
I love you my dear; and appreciate your expression.
I certainly am a different person than when we first me, sixteen years ago. I'm happy for the changes in my thoughts and feelings. We have watched our love grow and mature. And this would not have been without the respect that we have for each other. We have learned a lot from each other. As you have learned about relating to people from me I have learned how to communicate on a clearer level from you.
We certainly have grown as a family. I can't imagine life without our beautiful daughters; and I'm excited about this little one waiting to make his or her debut.
I do have some more things I would like to say however Simi is calling me so I will leave it at this and exit.
I love you,
Michelle
OK, I'm trying again.
Is this a Mother's Day post? Because, if it is, you've set the bar rather high for the rest of us bloggers. (But Mary P. is not the mother of my kids, which kind of lets me off the hook.)
Identity and consciousness both fascinate me. I keep telling myself I need to study consciousness, but I still haven't made the time.
I have a brother and a sister who died. (As well as three other sisters.) The grief was intense, but they weren't part of my day-to-day life. Neither death was an identity-shattering event for me.
The loss of my evangelical convictions — and with it, my vocation, full time ministry — now that was an identity-shattering event!
The interesting thing is, I know I'm the very same person now that I was during my evangelical years. More experienced and hopefully a little wiser, yes. But fundamentally I am unchanged, even though my core convictions are significantly different. And that's a remarkable thing.
Hmmm, a difficult one, as it's dealing with so many different concepts.
language is just rubbish at explaining emotions because we have not invented the right words! discussing emotions at all is pretty recent, and exploring intense emotions is a very new phenomonen - and a luxuary of the wealthy from what i can gather. aybe one day we'll have different words for the love of pizza, parents & partners, but atm we just rely on the implied meaning.
I think your implied meaning of your love for Michelle was beautifully put:-)
As to why we feel we have lost a part of ourselves when we grieve for a lost loved one - possibly because we have. we look at how the loss will affect us, what we won't be able to do witout that person there to do it with/to/for. I lost a bit of me when my brother died because no-one else will ever be able to fill the specific role he filled in my life. i have lost something from my identity, as well as losing the physical person.
Finally, I don't feel that i am the same person as i was at 5, 15 or 25. I am dramatically different in my looks, opinions (well, some), politics, beliefs, world view, interpersonal relations, and pretty much everything else. If I could go back in time & meet my earlier self, i doubt that I would really understand that person. times change, people change. i've changed. i'm sure I will continue to do so. i hope I bring some understaning 7 wisdom with me, but sometimes i wonder. I can't even imagine being the 19 year old me any more:-(
I've lost comments before - it's SO frustrating. It's safest to compose comments off-line, then cut and paste them into the comment window.
Cyberkitten: the focus of this post wasn't any particular problem with personal identity, although I touched on a couple of themes. Mainly, it was about my feelings and some inexpert, semi-philosophical speculation about how those feelings come about or what they might indicate.
The word "same" can mean different things in different contexts, and this can lead to confusion as a result of ambiguity. In some ways or for some puposes, we are the same as we were. In other ways or for other purposes, we are different. Most of the "problems" in personal identity evaporate once we investigate what the words really mean. But not all of them do.
Q: As it happens, it's not a Mother's Day post. I'm flattered you think the post is good. After re-reading it, I wish I had done it differently.
I think I did a good job of expressing some of my feelings for Michelle, but I probably should have left the other issues out of it. As a whole, the tone is darker than I intended. On the other hand, it's the kind of post that invites thought and/or discussion in any of several directions, so that's good.
Mrs. A: there are few constants in the universe, and I think change may be one of them. I like to think that if we are wise, we just get better and better as we age.
And that's depressing, because I suspect that I'm not wise at all! I'm cursed with this preoccupation for philosophical issues, but i'm not very good at solving problems. I've said it before, and I'll say it again - when it comes to philosophy, I am just an amateur.
But hey, it's good to have a hobby. I like to think that in life, the journey is just as important as the destination. (How's THAT for waxing "philosophical"?)
Q said: Neither death was an identity-shattering event for me.
The words "Identity-shattering" are a little bit stronger than what I was getting at. I'm glad you said this, because it gives me a chance to clarify.
People experience grief differently, I suppose. (No surprise there.) And many people do have what I would call "existential crises" - like what I think you are talking about in reference to your changing faith. I can empathize, because I can honestly say I have experienced feelings very much like what you described. These things can cause a person to feel like they have changed - and maybe they haven't really changed as much as they feel!
But it is still paradoxical that we can know we have changed - even just a little bit - and still know we are in some sense the same person. If we consider the paradox, we are forced to consider various types of change and what they mean in terms of identity.
Cells in our body are constantly dying and being replaced. We are always having new thoughts, learning new things, forgetting others. Even our every-day likes and dislikes, such as our favorite foods, can change. We can undergo drastic changes, such as losing a limb or having an organ replaced, and we still seem to be the same person. Our relationships with others are always changing. We grow older.
An interesting question to pursue might be - is there any single thing about an individual that never changes, which makes that individual the same person over time?
"is there any single thing about an individual that never changes, which makes that individual the same person over time"
Surely Q would say the soul:-)
I would say no, but then as I said above, I don't think i am the same person as I was. It's like the broom joke. Ive had this broom 15 years, the bristles have been replaced 7 times and the handle 4 times, but it's the same broom - because it has the same owner & the same use. We are defined as the same peron by the people around us. We will always be our mothers child for example.
Would you consider yourself to be the same person as your quantum twin who made one different decision to you a year ago? How about the quantum twin who has made many different decisions? The quantum twin who moved to Afganistan aged 2 and grew up there? How about if your 75 year old self came and visited you - wuld you consider him to be the same as you? Or the 5 year old you? It is the sum of our experiences that make us us, and that is constantly changing.
Maybe our feelings of having a continuing personal identity is just a necessary illusion?
What makes us.. us? Memories I guess....? Certainly not the body. More likely to be the mind.
Yes, Q would say "the soul" in answer to Snaars's question. But I realize it isn't a particularly helpful answer, because it's so indefinable as to be of little practical assistance.
I think "the soul" is pretty much a substitute for "the self". From a Christian perspective, I'm going to define it in a specific way, as existing through the body yet continuing to exist even after the body dies.
In short, I think "the soul" is exactly what this post is about: it's the part of us that stays constant even as everything else changes. It is, in fact, that part of me that I still identify as "me" no matter how many changes I pass through.
I was going to say we all have a sense that this self or soul exists. But I shouldn't use absolute language; Mrs. Aginoth speaks as if she has no such sense of a continuous soul.
I think that's highly exceptional, however. Some people come to the philosophical conclusion that there is no self; but then they have to will themselves to act accordingly, against their own instincts.
It's easy to talk of the soul or the self but as Q said they are both "so indefinable as to be of little practical assistance".
Is our belief in the self/soul valid? What is it that we're actually talking about here?
I too have a sense of continuation from moment to moment and from year to year but is it really possible to accurately say that I am the 'same' person I was ten years ago - or even ten minutes ago? Is there *actually* anything about us that is unchanging?
Personally I don't think so.
I was going to say we all have a sense that this self or soul exists. But I shouldn't use absolute language; Mrs. Aginoth speaks as if she has no such sense of a continuous soul.
I think that's highly exceptional, however. Some people come to the philosophical conclusion that there is no self; but then they have to will themselves to act accordingly, against their own instincts.
Q, you are setting up a false dichotomy. You assume that if someone denies the existence of a soul, then they also deny the existence of a self.
The problem is that we have a sense of identity, but we cannot point to one single thing about us that never changes (i.e., a soul). Everything seems ephemeral; nothing seems permanent. But to admit this is not to deny that our lives have some kind of continuity. So, it's perfectly reasonable to believe in a self that changes, and not to believe in the soul, which is something for which we have no evidence.
It's a hackneyed phrase, but have you ever heard the expression "You can never step in the same river twice"? There is a sense in which it is true, and yet we are not prevented from believing the river exists.
Mrs A: I like your broomstick example. I've heard the same joke phrased as "Grandfather's old axe". You see, Grandfather had this axe - or, in your case I might say something like Oliver Cromwell had this old axe. It's a fine old axe, it is - still chops wood like there's no tomorrow. Then I proudly hold up a brand-spanking new axe and say, "See? Oliver Cromwell's axe!" You protest that it can't be O. C.'s axe because it's new - then I get defensive and say, "Well, the handle's been replaced three times and the head's been replaced four times, but it's still O. C.'s axe, and it's a mighty fine old axe indeed!"
Mrs A said: We are defined as the same person by the people around us.
Mrs A, do you really think we are all defined by the people around us? In some ways, I think we behave according to the expectations of others. I've heard stories about people who were placed in unfamiliar or bizarre situations - completely removed from their usual social environment, family, and friends - and who behaved completely "out of character" - and this would tend to support your statement.
On the other hand, some ascetic living in a cave on a desert island - who defines him? How do you explain someone who defies all the expectations of everyone? I cannot believe that we are defined by others. There is certainly an objective reality, and we are a part of it, even though we may not understand ourselves as well as we would like.
However, reading your comment again, perhaps you are only suggesting that we only remain the same in the eyes of others and not ourselves? I'm curious. If you would like to elaborate, I'd be interested in reading.
Cyberkitten: you said that what makes us us is most likely the mind, as opposed to the body. I tend to agree. I have a kind of ownership of my body. It does what I want ... more or less ... sometimes a lot less .... Anyway, my body is not me. Not completely.
I don't even think I am my brain. The brain is just an organ. It's special, certainly. All those little synapses constantly firing have a lot to do with the thoughts I'm thinking. The mind-brain connection can't be denied. But I don't actually identify myself as firing synapses. I'm not even aware of my synapses - I can't feel them. If there were some artificial brain, and my personality and memories were transferred to it, I might not ever know the difference.
Q, you said that the soul is what this post is about, but even you admit that's not saying much. It seems that, if there is anything at all unchanging about ourselves, we still don't know what it is, even if we choose to call that something a soul.
Snaars said: I don't even think I am my brain. The brain is just an organ. It's special, certainly. All those little synapses constantly firing have a lot to do with the thoughts I'm thinking. The mind-brain connection can't be denied.
I've been thinking about this a bit more & I have to say that I disagree with you. I am gradualy coming to the conclusion that the 'mind' as a sepearte entity doesn't actually exist - hence there is no "mind-brain" connection. Those who have looking for the interface between the two have found nothing, just as those who look for the soul-body intreface find nothing.. because there is nothing to find.
I think that the apparent persistence of unique identity over time is because of our memories. *I* have memories of yesterday and *I* have memories of ten years ago. As far as I am concerned the same person has both sets of memories so *I* am that person - persistant over time. But what if - like the character in the movie 'Eternal Sunshine' I could erase some memories completely. Would I still be *me*? What if I could erase some memories and import new ones in their place? Would I still be *me* or would I then be someone else? I'm thinking that I'd actually be a different person. You see what I'm getting at [I hope]. It's our memories that make us who we are. That is the source of the feeling that we have a 'core' identity a single *I*
The mind isn't a 'separate' entity in the same way as a car is or even a kidney. The brain produces the 'mind' as part of the way it functions. The brain modifies itself to accomodate new memories and experiences. The mind is constantly being produced pico-second to pico-second by electrical activity in the brain. If the brain could be re-booted in someway would you still be there afterwards...? I'm not sure if you would.
As I said, it's a complicated subject to define, partly because we don't have the right words!
Obviously I feel the continuity of my life. The yesterday me was pretty similar to today's, and I can confidently expect tomorrows to be much the same too. Even if an earth shattering event happened tomorrow, i would still be the recognisable me from today, because changes take time.
But do I consider myself to be the same person as the 10 year old me? Of course not. I have virtually nothing in common with that person. Our memories, experiences, opinions, observations, understanding, morals, social standing, family, friends, culture and geography are completely different. i can see how she became me, but I can also see how she could have become millions of different people, none of whom are me.
I think that a lot of us is defined by the people around us. I am a mother, a daughter, a sister, a wife, a boss, an employee, a teacher, a coach, and for eachof these relationshhips I modify how I behave and even how I think to fit the circumstances. If I was picked up and dumped in Iran, Japan or China, i am sure many of my actions, behaviour & beliefs would change. If people who know me well here, came to see me there, they would say I was acting out of charcter.
I believe we are dostly defined by our memories & experiences. In that order. I remember the same childhood event very differently from my sister - who had the same upbringing, similar experiences etc up to then. But as each of us remember it differently the experience, knowledge & understanding we gained from that event is different & has made us develop in different ways.
Has that clarified it at all?
Good comments, everyone. Not a whole lot to disagree with, but I'm exploring the topic a little further in a follow-up. Feel free to place more comments there.
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