哀 – sorrow


One thing I admire about the Chinese language is that it’s so contextually based. It kind of necessitates that we are actively on the same wavelength, so to speak, if we are to understand each other fully.

A particular spelling of a word might have several completely different meanings based on intonation and intention of use. I can think of probably 11 or 12 different characters for the word “shi”, some of them even using the exact same tone and still having a different meaning. Complicated? Maybe, but it’s also pretty functional.

One such function might be less emphasis on the arbitrary construct of the word itself, the descriptor, the label… and far more emphasis on the information conveyed.

I think social and linguistic development has led to a lot of misguided glorification and overemphasis of surface-level ideas, and concepts, or those descriptors, at the expense of trying to really thoroughly understand the thing in question itself, as it is, if it even has any grounding in reality, without being inextricably tied to that artificial representation.

So let’s talk about love.

There has been, and still is, quite a lot of psychological and anthropological research going on seeking to prove that “love” is a universal emotion, and that it arises naturally in every culture. And so we let them. Because love is nice, right? And why wouldn’t it be conceivable that everyone else might be able to experience this thing we call love? Although, what is it exactly that is trying to be proven here?

Is your love the same as my love? Does that matter? Has this exploration of the phenomenon of love, and how it arises, viewed within the scope of such language, only served to skew the actual thing into fitting more neatly into our endless cascade of arbitrary definition, or have we actually gotten any closer to understanding what it is that we mean, and what it is that our word represents?

I think we often kind of chase ourselves in orbit around a thing, but without getting any closer to whatever it is.

People feel and express “love” in different ways, and probably have all sorts of different words to describe it. So why should it matter at all if those same words are common to any two people or places in the world? I would think it makes a lot more sense not to overvalue the representational term, but rather to simply value the feeling as you perceive it, and allow it to be what it is without tying it down with what is inevitably an arbitrary label. But that’s quite hard, because you can’t capitalize upon, associate with, and advertise an unspoken understanding, can you?

The Chinese translation for the word “love” is “ài” (爱), which I find interesting, because “āi” (哀) is also the word for “sorrow”.