Of all the misconceptions about love the most powerful and pervasive(普遍的) is the belief(信念) that “falling in love” is love or at least one of the manifestations of love. It is a potent(强有力的) misconception, because falling in love is subjectively experienced in a very powerful fashion as an experience of love. When a person falls in love what he or she certainly feels is “I love him” or “I love her.” But two problems are immediately apparent. The first is that the experience of falling in love is specifically a sex-linked erotic(性欲的) experience. We do not fall in love with our children even though we may love them very deeply. We do not fall in love with our friends of the same sex-unless we are homosexually oriented-even though we may care for them greatly. We fall in love only when we are consciously or unconsciously sexually motivated. The second problem is that the experience of falling in love is invariably temporary. No matter whom we fall in love with, we sooner or latter fall out of love if the relationship continues long enough. This is not to say that we invariably cease loving the person with whom we fell in love. But it is to say that the feeling of ecstatic lovingness that characterizes(表示) the experience of falling in love always passes. The honeymoon always ends. The bloom of romance always fades.
To understand the nature of the phenomenon of falling in love and the inevitability of its ending, it is necessary to examine the nature of what psychiatrists call ego boundaries. From what we can ascertain(查明) by indirect evidence, it appears that the newborn infant during the first new months of its life does not distinguish between itself and the rest of the universe. When it moves its arms and legs, the world is moving. When it is hungry, the world is hungry. When it sees its mother move, it is as if it is moving. When its mother sings, the baby does not know that it is itself not making the sound. It cannot distinguish itself from the crib(婴儿车), the room and its parents. The animate and the inanimate are the same. There is no distinction yet between I and thou. It and the world are one. There are no boundaries, no separations. There is no identity.
But with experience the child begins to experience itself-namely, as an entity separate from the rest of the world. When it is hungry, mother doesn’t always appear to feed it. When it is playful, mother doesn’t always want to play. The child then has the experience of its wishes not begin its mother’s command. Its will is experienced as something separate from its mother’s behavior. A sense of the “me” begins to develop. This interaction(互动) between the infant and the mother is believed to be the ground(土壤) out of which the child’s sense of identity begins to grow. It has been observed that when the interaction between the infant and its mother is grossly(很,非常) disturbed(不正常的)-for example, when there is no mother, no satisfactory mother substitute or when because of her own mental illness the mother is totally uncaring or uninterested-then the infant grows into a child or adult whose sense of identity is grossly defective in the most basic way.
As the infant recognizes its will to be its own and not that of the universe, it begins to make other distinctions between itself and the world. When it wills movement, its arm waves before its eyes, but neither the crib nor the ceiling move. Thus the child learns that its arm and its will are connected, and therefore that its arm is its and not something or someone else’s. In this manner, during the first year of life, we learn the fundamentals of who we are and who we are not, what we are and what we are not. By the end of our first year we know that this is my arm, my foot, my head, my tongue, my eyes and even my viewpoint, my voice, my thoughts, my stomachache, and my feelings. We know our size and our physical limits. These limits are our boundaries. The knowledge of these limits inside our minds is what is meant by ego boundaries.
The development of ego boundaries is a process that continues through childhood into adolescence and even into adult-hood, but the boundaries established later are more psychic than physical. For instance, the age between two and three is typically a time when the child comes to terms(达成协议) with the limits of its power. While before this time the child has learned that its wish is not necessarily its mother’s command, it still clings to the possibility that its wish might be its mother’s command and the feeling that its wish should be her command. It is because of this hope and feeling that the two-year-old usually attempts to act like a tyrant(暴君) and autocrat(独裁者), trying to give orders to its parents, siblings and family pets as if they were menials(仆人) in its own private army, and responds with regal(帝王的) fury(暴怒) when they won’t be dictated to(被任意指挥). Thus parents speak of this age as “the terrible twos.” By the age of three the child has usually become more tractable(易于管教的) and mellow(变得平静) as a result of an acceptance of the reality of its own relative powerlessness(无能为力). Still, the possibility of omnipotence is such a sweet, sweet dream that it cannot be completely given up even after several years of very painful confrontation(冲突) with one’s own impotence(无力). Although the child of three has come to accept the reality of the boundaries of its power, it will continue to escape occasionally for some years to come into a world of fantasy in which the possibility of omnipotence(particularly its own) still exists. This is the world of Superman and Captain Marvel(惊奇队长). Yet gradually even the superheroes are given up, and by the time of mid-adolescence, young people know that they are individuals, confined(限制) to the boundaries of their flesh and the limits of their power, each one a relatively frail(灯心草篮) and impotent(虚弱的) organism, existing only by cooperation within a group of fellow organisms called society. Within this group they are not particularly distinguished(卓越的), yet they are isolated from others by their individual identities, boundaries and limits.
It is lonely behind these boundaries. Some people-particularly those whom psychiatrists call schizoid(精神分裂的)-because of unpleasant, traumatizing experiences in childhood, perceive the world outside of themselves as unredeemably(不可救药的) dangerous, hostile(敌对的), confusing and unnurturing. Such people feel their boundaries to be protecting and comforting and find a sense of safety in their loneliness. But most of us feel our loneliness to be painful and yearn(渴望) to escape from behind the walls of our individual identities to a condition in which we can be more unified with the world outside of ourselves. The experience of falling in love allows us this escape-temporarily. The essence of the phenomenon of falling in love is a sudden collapse of a section of an individual’s ego boundaries, permitting one to merge his or her identity with that of another person. The sudden release of oneself from oneself, the explosive(爆炸性的) pouring(倾诉) out of oneself into the beloved, and the dramatic, surcease(停止) of loneliness accompanying this collapse of ego boundaries is experienced by most of us as ecstatic. We and our beloved are one! Loneliness is no more! In some respects(but certainly not in all) the act of falling in love is an act of regression(倒退). The experience of merging with the loved one has in it echoes from the time when we were merged with our mothers in infancy. Along with the merging we also reexperience the sense of ominpotence which we had to give up in our journey out of childhood. All things seem possible! United with our beloved we feel we can conquer all obstacles. We believe that the strength of our love will cause the forces of opposition to bow down in submission(投降) and melt(融化) away into the darkness. All problems will be overcome. The future will be all light. The unreality of these feelings when we have fallen in love is essentially the same as the unreality of the two-year-old who feels itself to be king of the family and the world with power unlimited.
Just as reality intrudes upon(闯入) the two-year-old’s fantasy of ominpotence so does reality intrude upon the fantastic unity of the couple who have fallen in love. Sooner or later, in response to the problems of daily living, individual will reasserts(重新主张) itself. He wants to have sex; she doesn’t. She wants to go to the movies; he doens’t. He wants to put money in the bank; she wants a dishwasher. She wants to talk about her job; he wants to talk about his. She doesn’t like his friends; he doesn’t like hers. So both of them, in the privacy of their hearts, begin to come to the sickening(令人厌恶的) realization(领悟) that they are not one with the beloved, that the beloved has and will continue to have his or her own desires, tastes, prejudices(偏见) and timing different from the other’s. One by one, gradually or suddenly, the ego boundaries snap back into place; gradually or suddenly, they fall out of love. Once again they are two separate individuals. At this point they begin either to dissolve(溶解) the ties(连接) of their relationship or to initiate the work of real loving.
By my use of the word “real” I am implying(暗示) that the perception(感觉) that we are loving when we fall in love is a false perception-that our subjective sense of lovingness is an illusion(错觉). Full elaboration of real love will be deferred(推迟) until later in this section. However, by stating that it is when a couple falls out of love they may begin to really love I am also implying that real love does not have its roots in a feeling of love. To the contrary, real love often occurs in a context in which the feeling of love is lacking, when we act lovingly despite the fact that we don’t feel loving. Assuming the reality of the definition of love with which we started, the experience of “falling in love” is not real love for the several reasons that follow.
Falling in love is not an act of will. It is not a conscious choice. No matter how open to or eager for it we may be, the experience may still elude(避开) us. Contrarily, the experience may capture us at times(有时) when we are definitely not seeking it, when it is inconvenient and undesirable. We are as likely to fall in love with someone with whom we are obviously ill matched(不般配的) as with someone more suitable. Indeed, we may not even like or admire the object of our passion, yet, try as we might, we may not be able to fall in love with a person whom we deeply respect and with whom a deep relationship would be in all ways desirable. This is not to say that the experience of falling in love is immune(免疫的) to discipline. Psychiatrists, for instance, frequently fall in love with their patients, just as their patients fall in love with them, yet out of duty to the patient and their role they are usually able to abort the collapse of their ego boundaries and give up the patient as a romantic object. The struggle and suffering of the discipline involved may be enormous. But discipline and will can only control the experience; they cannot create it . We can choose how to respond to the experience of falling in love, but we cannot choose the experience itself.
Falling in love is not an extension of one’s limits or boundaries; it is a partial and temporary collapse of them. The extension of one’s limits requires effort; falling in love is effortless. Lazy and undisciplined individuals are as likely to fall in love as energetic(精力充沛的) and dedicated ones. Once the precious moment of falling in love has passed and the boundaries have snapped back into place, the individual may be disillusioned(幻想破灭), but is usually none the larger for the experience. When limits are extended or stretched, however, they tend to stay stretched. Real love is a permanently self-enlarging experience. Falling in love is not.
Falling in love has little to do with purposively(有决心地) nurturing one’s spiritual development. If we have any purpose in mind when we fall in love it is to terminate our own loneliness and perhaps insure(保证) this result through marriage. Certainly we are not thinking of spiritual development. Indeed, after we have fallen in love and before we have fallen out of love again we feel that we have arrived, that the heights have been attained, that there is both no need and no possibility of going higher. We do not feel ourselves to be in any need of development; we are totally content(满足地) to be where we are. Our spirit is at peace. Nor do we perceive our beloved as being in need of spiritual development. To the contrary, we perceive him or her as perfect, as having been perfected. If we see any faults in our beloved, we perceive them as insignificant(微不足道的)-little quirks(怪癖) or darling eccentricities(怪癖) that only add color and charm.
If falling in love is not love, then what is it other than a temporary and partial collapse of ego boundaries? I do not know. But the sexual specificity(特征) of the phenomenon leads me to suspect(猜想) that it is a genetically(基因决定地) determined instinctual component of mating(交配) behavior. In other words, the temporary collapse of ego boundaries that constitutes(构成) falling in love is a stereotypic(刻板的) response of human beings to a configuration of internal sexual drives and external sexual stimuli(刺激), which serves to increase the probability of sexual pairing(配对) and bonding(建立关系) so as to enhance the survival of the species. Or to put it in another, rather crass(粗鲁地) way, falling in love is a trick that our genes(基因) pull on our otherwise perceptive mind to hoodwink(欺骗) or trap(诱捕) us into marriage. Frequently the trick goes awry(脱离路线地) one way or another, as when the sexual drives and stimuli are homosexual or when other forces-parental interference, mental illness, conflicting responsibilities or mature self-discipline supervene(发生) to prevent the bonding. On the other hand, without this trick, this illusory(虚幻地) and inevitably temporary(it would not be practical were it not temporary) regression(倒退) to infantile(幼儿期地) merging and omnipotence, many of us who are happily or unhappily married today would have retreated(撤退) in whole-hearted terror(恐惧) from the realism(现实性) of the marriage vows(婚誓).