We talk about love a lot during the holidays. We think about it in the context of our families—our parents, siblings, children, and extended relatives. We think about love in the context of our shared humanity, and the connection between love and generosity. For many, love is one of the key emotions of the season. We often think of it as a positive force, and something to cultivate (it is both!), but we rarely stop to consider what love actually is.
For something so widely praised, sought after, and celebrated, pinning down what love actually is can be surprisingly difficult. Love is what we feel when we are young and meet someone beautiful—an all-consuming, passion-inducing hunger that feels unstoppable. Love might also describe Grandma’s house, our feelings about a best friend, or even our affection for pizza. And for something so positive, it has a remarkable ability to make us act in less-than-charitable, less-than-generous ways. How can a concept so ubiquitous, so universally admired, and so central to our lives also be so difficult to define?
A big part of the problem is simply one of language– we ask four letters to cover too much territory, turning the word into a fog that hides the distinctions within it. We stretch one word across our relationship with a partner, a child, a friend, a dog, and a pizza. We use “love” to describe longing, comfort, exhilaration, and escape. Perhaps the only thing many of these experiences share is our positive feelings about them. The warmth we feel toward family is nothing like the intensity of early romantic obsession. The steadiness of long-term devotion differs from the rush of novelty. By lumping them together, we obscure as much as we illuminate.
To make matters worse, the feelings that often accompany love are not separate from the rest of our emotional repertoire. The warmth that comes with closeness can be mixed with possessiveness, jealousy, or a need for control. Feelings of peace can slide into grasping attachment or fear of losing that peace. Even the joy we feel in giving with love can turn to resentment when it is mixed with expectation or a desire for recognition.
Given the breadth of what we mean by the word love, there cannot be one, single definition of it. It is hard to even attach universal qualities to it, given how many situations we expect a single word to cover. With that myriad of options in mind, what do we mean by love when we talk about it in the context of the holidays? When we consider the spirit of the season, what are we trying to get at?
Bodhichitta is a concept from Buddhism that describes both caring deeply for others and acting to support their well-being. It is love as both feeling and practice—an openness of heart paired with deliberate, generous action. This is remarkably close to what we mean by love this time of year, when our warmth and empathy naturally extend to family, friends, and strangers. Whether it’s sharing a meal, offering a listening ear, or giving to someone in need, the love we seek to cultivate at this time often mirrors the idea of bodhichitta by combining heartfelt concern with acts that make life better for others.
While the term comes from Buddhism, the idea is universal, and is within all of us: it is the love that moves us to help, support, or comfort another person, without expecting anything in return. This is the type of love the holidays (ideally) evoke. When we bake cookies for neighbors, donate to those in need, or simply make time for family, we are practicing the same expansive, outward-reaching love that bodhichitta describes—an intention and energy that grows the heart and the world at the same time.
Bodhichitta grows through small, intentional, repeated choices. When we slow down enough to notice the needs around us and offer attention, patience, or support, we allow the part of us that wants to care to shine forth more freely. The love we naturally feel for those closest to us becomes the starting point—a warm center from which our capacity can widen. The holidays give us countless invitations to practice and expand this: to give time, extend generosity, or show kindness we might otherwise rush past. Each time we say yes, we strengthen the habits of an open, responsive heart, and we gradually become the kind of person who moves through the world with that openness all year long.
One of the qualities of bodhichitta is that it is expansive: it grows outward rather than narrowing inward. All authentic love, in its many forms, shares this quality.This expansiveness allows love to encompass others without diminishing ourselves. When we think we are experiencing love, but notice that we are contracting inwards, we should be wary– this is a likely indicator that things are not as they seem. Narrowing is a warning sign we are off track. By viewing expansiveness as a core quality of all forms of love, we can better capture the variety of ways it appears in our lives. We can let that expansiveness guide us towards warmth, attention, and generosity during this season, and perhaps allow the seed of the practice we plant during the season to grow in our lives as we move into the new year.
Love,
Doc
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