The Great Dilemma
Erotic love can be one of our greatest opportunities to transcend the ego, expand our consciousness and grow as human beings. In the ideal case, it frees us completely from the illusion of separation and suffering.
Unfortunately, it seems that much can stand in the way of this liberation. Often enough the attraction is one-sided, or for some reason it is impossible to make contact with the desired person in the first place. And if we do make contact, getting to know them may reveal previously hidden qualities in them that do not seem so desirable after all. We then withdraw in disappointment or even disgust. Our initial excitement must have been misplaced. These are just a few of the myriad ways in which our search for intimacy and Oneness can quickly lead us to dead ends, or rather, to what we perceive to be dead ends.
Suppose, however, that the attraction is not only irresistible but also mutual, that we meet and that there is nothing to stop us getting involved. Then the real trouble starts: Although it is fairly obvious that erotic desire can only be satisfied outside our everyday social togetherness, most of us claim the chosen other for ourselves in this realm as well. The needs to be met here bring other forms of love into play and are, as we shall see, essentially secondary.
Almost everyone dreams of the eternally faithful, loyal companion, the 'better half' who will always put them first, fulfil their every wish, give them comfort and security and completely erase that persistent feeling of personal inadequacy. It may also be that we are simply looking for an attachment figure, someone who can take the place of a mother, father, brother or sister. Given all this, the initial innocent enthusiasm for another human being can very quickly give way to an awareness of an all-encompassing need. The ideal other has been found, the intensity of the attraction tells us so, but now he or she has to live up to all our expectations. There are so many areas of life in which this person could provide us with greater overall well-being. But what if they refuse or fail to do so? So much is suddenly at stake! Instead of freeing us, love seems to drive us into the greatest possible dependence on each other.
But why do we dream of sharing our daily lives with each other in the first place? Why do we expect erotic love to enrich us on the very levels from which it obviously seeks to elevate us? Why are we convinced that someone with whom we aspire to a higher consciousness must perfectly complement and satisfy us in every way, however trivial? These ideas are unrealistic. More importantly, they are illogical and therefore a regular source of disappointment and frustration. Experience shows that universal compatibility is highly unlikely. What is more, it is not necessary for what we really want to achieve. Nevertheless, the hope that Oneness with another person will take the form of long-term, happy coexistence is often maintained throughout life. No matter how often we are disillusioned, we continue to look for ultimate salvation in togetherness and then wonder why Oneness is either never fully experienced or gradually falls by the wayside.
I would say that the disappointments and frustrations are inevitable, because our deep desire to be One is not at all a desire for mutual affection and the constant bartering we call a love relationship. Of course, as herd animals, humans need attention, appreciation, care and a sense of belonging, just as they need air, water and food. The satisfaction of these needs, however, requires community, perhaps unity, but not Oneness. When we are One, our existence as one of many is ideally suspended, as is our existence as one of two. Oneness is not a form of togetherness; on the contrary, they can hardly be reconciled!
Does not the experience, if not the very idea, of absolute intimacy suggest that what is really intended is a life in each other and as each other, not a life with each other? Erotic love, in its more profound aspects, cannot be about the mutual satisfaction of the needs of two individuals. The individual as such wants to be transcended! Logically, it is not the two who ultimately benefit from the healing 'trauma of coitus' (a phrase coined by Julius Evola in Eros and the Mysteries of Love: The Metaphysics of Sex). A liberating transphysiological and transpsychological consciousness can only unfold when the lovers find themselves united in a superior entity. This entity makes no distinction between I and you, it is to I and you what synthesis is to thesis and antithesis. Forms of love that have to be expressed on a social level, on the level of the two and the many, can only cause this consciousness to collapse. True Oneness brings great fulfilment, that is for sure, but not to us as individuals.
The great dilemma is that we seek the most intense interpersonal relationship with the very person with whom we want to completely overcome interpersonality, with whom we want to be One, that is, without any space in between, without any 'inter'.
Once we have a sense of our fundamental identity with one another, we think we must maintain and expand it in more earthly realms, but it finds no proper breeding ground there. Oneness does not tolerate everyday life. Absolute fusion - experienced as real in ecstatic moments - does not seem to be tenable in conventional reality, because here the two cannot stop being the two. If intercourse provides us with an experience of transcendence at all, it wants to be repeated, and despite the maximum closeness that is created in the process, the other is always found to be non-self again in the end. Our daily interaction informs us that we have not become each other in any permanent sense. We have not irrevocably merged into that higher being we glimpsed in deepest intimacy. That is why the love relationship is expected to satisfy us at least as much as possible. But concentrating on the above-mentioned secondary needs (comfort, security, etc.) can only lead us further and further away from our shared existence as the One. Togetherness may be enhanced, but the comparatively superficial communication it requires increasingly disturbs the wordless, otherworldly erotic sphere and relegates us to our place in the world of separation.
The gradual diminution of the physical magnetism that afflicts so many relationships is hardly ever due to the fact that Oneness has been grasped and sexual activity is superfluous. In most cases, love is more and more claimed by the reality of togetherness, with the supposed unreality of Oneness becoming less and less accessible. If fading erotic attraction is not reason enough to break up because we are otherwise compatible, we may eventually settle for a more or less romantic friendship. This is not the worst outcome, but even the most perfect harmony cannot replace eros, originally believed to be omnipotent, boundless and eternal. It seems all too mundane and banal in comparison. We may be able to live a sufficiently satisfying life together in harmony, but we are not truly One. We are I and you, as we have always been.
To sum up, we can say that Oneness tends to be reserved for seemingly unreal peak experiences, while togetherness takes place on levels that presuppose that we are, and remain, clearly delineated individuals. The desire for shared transcendence can be our greatest driving force, but we seem condemned to live our separate lives forever, with only occasional and fleeting glimpses of a reality beyond.
Are we really, though?