Saturday, November 7, 2020
King of Prussia, PA
Dear Prea,
I am sorry it has taken me so long to write this letter to you. I’ve been slacking because I didn’t know how to respond to your last two letters at first. I thought it would be easy enough to do so, but every time I sat down to think about what to say in response, nothing came to me. You talked about different aspects of changing the world, from the perspective of love. Loving another by seeing the other, and loving yourself by giving yourself the permission to be yourself, as well as to act purely for yourself when life demands it.
I agree with your point that it is not just about seeing yourself in another, which was my original position. This is only part of it. It is also seeing the other for who they are, seeing the other as themselves. I was so invested in understanding myself, seeing the core aspect of myself as “infinite, immortal, eternal consciousness-bliss™”, and recognizing it (my own Self) in everyone that I forgot to understand that everyone is much more than just this core. And the elements that make people individually who they are are just as important as the core power that underscores our collective existence. But you showed me that this is important to do too. This is such a crucial part of love, and now more than ever I understand how valuable it is to see someone, and see them for who they are. This makes for a much more complex, challenging, and beautiful world.
I love the image of teaching as seed-planting. I feel that. That is how I see teaching as well, and it is always my hope that in the classroom, whatever we discuss bears fruit when it really counts. I’ve been lucky to have attentive and brilliant students who try really hard to understand what new ideas they have been exposed to. This reminds me of part of my cover letter for an application to a new job:
The study of Sanskrit, for me, is not only about learning a language, but about immersing oneself in worldviews that are different from one’s own, thereby facilitating the knowledge that there are multiple possible modes of existence in an increasingly politically and socially rigid world. I consider myself successful if students taking my classes leave with this new openness catalyzed by their study of Sanskrit and approach each subject that they study in the future with the idea that they don’t hold all the answers within themselves, allowing for the possibility of change, development, and freedom.
I should note that it is through conversations with you over the last several years that I have come to firmly believe this myself. For me, too, teaching is about planting a seed. It is about planting a seed of humility, the knowledge that “I don’t know everything.” Only with this knowledge can we actually actively grow.
I used to believe that I wanted to change the world, I wanted to fix the world. But I’ve been inspired by your vision and I realize that changing the world is not about fixing everything you see. It is about making the tiny changes within your power wherever you are, trusting that those tiny changes make a difference. For us, teaching is one avenue to make tiny changes in the minds of our students, planting those invisible seeds that will ultimately grow to become fruiting trees. In the Chāndogya Upaniṣad, Uddālaka tells his son Śvetaketu to bring him the seed of a banyan tree. The seed of a banyan tree is extremely tiny, like a dot. If you break it open, it looks like empty space inside. But from that tiny seed arises one of the biggest trees in the world, a banyan tree, which grows roots from its branches into the ground to form new trunks. Thus a whole forest can be a single tree! And this tree grows out of a seed that is almost invisible. Uddālaka then says:
Dear boy, the smallest part in that seed is not visible to you. But in that smallest part lies hidden the huge banyan tree. Have faith, dear boy.
Chāndogya Upaniṣad 6.12.2
So too is the tree that grows after planting a teaching. In our interactions, you’ve done that with me too. I find myself being influenced by things you told me years ago even today. Now we get to talk all day every day, and that is the greatest blessing for me. And it fills me with faith that every little thing makes a difference.
Loving yourself, I think, is about keeping that faith. Despite knowing how small we are, also understanding that we matter in the grand scheme of things. Every little thing in the world matters. To see yourself, as you said, to truly see yourself, which is what loving yourself entails, involves seeing that you are not nothing. To see that you are something, something valuable, something irreplaceable in the world. Something precious. And to be loved by another is to be seen in this way. (This reminds me of the Biden-Harris win that just happened. Their slogan at the end was “Every Vote Counts” – this is how a government can show its people that it loves them. That they matter. To live with a government that sees you – or counts your vote, at least – is to feel loved in some way by the powers that be, however subtle, however minute that feeling is. It makes a difference.) To love another is to see someone in this way. The way I see you is as someone who matters, someone who is important, someone whose presence makes the world a better place. Someone without whom the world would be missing an irreplaceable and beautiful part. You matter to the world, you matter to me more than I can say, Prea, and I hope you never forget that.
Forever yours,
Varun