Not only the intensity but even the quality of states of mind depend partly on the other states of mind that precede and follow them.
Well maybe there is relativity in everything or almost, but it is really evident in the case of moods, emotions and other states of mind. A poverty-stricken person in a place and time of war can feel joy at finding him or herself blessed with a hot bowl of soup and a roof over his head for just one evening. Another person, in a place where peace prevails, with people who love him, with a good home and good health and money in the bank, can throw himself from a bridge in despair, because of a personal problem he judges to be enormous and hopeless; he has grown so accustomed to all his other good fortune that he no longer even knows he has it, or hardly, and so has no appreciation or gratitude for these things.
Another effect of this relativity is that a person can find it harder to deal with a given situation to the extent that he judges it to be of relatively great importance. Many people know this firsthand from experience. The same situation that one day seems so all-important or critical that the very thought of dealing with it causes stress and anxiety, can seem like an easy-to-manage trifle the following day, if in the meantime an earthquake, fire or other real disaster were to happen to his home, if a loved one were to die, and so on. One might think: yesterday the problem that was causing me despair today seems like a ridiculous little thing, not a real problem at all.
Each person has an inner hierarchy of personal needs, priorities and concerns, and it is as though they are arranged in three dimensions so to speak, some horizontally and some vertically, that is some placed more or less at the same level or beside each other, others higher up or lower down in importance and priority, real or imagined.
In my case, I have the impression that as long as a given concern has other concerns placed relatively higher up, I can deal with it tangibly and keep it in perspective. But what happens in the case of the concerns that are placed right at the top of the tree, that have nothing higher than them but blue sky?
It's as if I am climbing in a tree and feel safe standing on each branch, as I climb higher, as long as there are still other strong branches even higher up that I can hold onto with my hands, for support and balance. But when I get to the top of the tree, can I stand securely and confidently on an uppermost branch?
Maybe some people can, but I don't have a great sense of balance, or don't have confidence in my sense of balance, which may be two very different things, but in practical terms one and the same. No matter how strong and solid the branch under my feet, I feel like I need to hang on to higher branches with my hands. The more I near the top of the tree, the more I might feel excitement, exhilaration, the lure of challenge, adventure and intensity - but the more too do I feel insecurity and diffidence.
I wonder if this could be part of the explanation for what happens to some people when they fall in love. One feels exhilaration, joy and great intensity; but at other moments one might experience instead a sense of insecurity or fear that can be nearly just as strong.
Is the tree analogy true, and if so does it apply to everyone or only to some of us? Maybe it is true only of people who feel insecure, and not of those who don't? Or if true of how we are, is it also true of how we should or could be?
I don't feel like I can answer all of those questions yet. But we can look more closely at the analogy itself.
If a person is climbing a tree - I mean a real tree - regardless of whether he is somewhere in the middle with lots of higher branches or right up at the top, why in the first place might he be afraid of losing his balance and falling from the tree?
The answer is easy - the force of gravity will send him plummeting to the earth, he will inevitably hit it hard, he can be badly hurt or even die.
Is this also true of the tree of human concerns? If you lose your balance do you fall, and if you fall do you hit something hard, analogous to the ground below?
Well I suppose it depends on the nature of the particular concern. If you are on a ship at sea and the ship is sinking, you have an emergency of utmost personal importance to deal with, in other words you are standing on an uppermost branch. If you lose your balance, if you lose your composure and self-control, you might well perish at sea. Even if you don't you might drown anyways but at least then, if you keep your head, you give yourself a chance.
Well that is one example, but what if the highest branch is not a sinking ship but, for example, having fallen in love?
There is no doubt that if a person falls passionately in love he can suddenly find himself on a highest branch. Or maybe he is not really on a highest branch but only imagines he is, for if he were seeing things more soberly and clearly he might see that the health of his parents, the welfare of the earth and of everyone around him, and so on, are branches far higher in the tree. But his falling in love has placed him on the highest branch if we understand the tree as being made up of his felt concerns, the tree of his subjective and present concerns and priorities.
Okay, so if you are in love and you feel like you're at the top of a high tree, and your knees are buckling and you're afraid of falling because the branch you're standing on is maybe five inches in diameter and you have nothing to hold onto with your hands. No problem for a circus trapezist! But most of us are not circus trapezists, and some people, me for instance, can hardly even ride a bicycle and confidently let go with both hands.
Suppose a child who loves someone a lot but naively, who doesn't even know about any danger of falling or the hard earth below? Suppose that because he doesn't know he is not afraid, and that because he is not afraid he lets go altogether, not intentionally but spontaneously, as if he were not up in a tree at all but standing lightly on the ground?
In a real tree the hard earth is down there whether you like it or not, and whether or not you know it is. But in the tree of concern? What if the hard earth is down there only for those who imagine it is, and doesn't exist for those who don't know or fear it? Just as the tree is made up of felt, subjective concerns, so that a branch of concern comes into existence as soon as you feel concerned, what if the hard earth below comes into existence when and only when you fear or imagine it is there?
In other words, can a person completely let go - without danger?
You have your answer and I have mine, but I strongly suspect that the answer is yes. Maybe a person perched high up among his greatest concerns, but who has no fear of falling or of crashing to the ground, is a person who is able to fly - not physically of course but emotionally and spiritually?
But didn't we say that one really can be hurt or die when falling from a high branch, with the example of the sinking ship at sea?
Yes, but did we make a mistake? We equated letting go of the branch with losing one's balance, losing one's composure and presence of mind. We equated letting go of the branch with unwillingly and accidentally falling. Same thing? Maybe not! As with letting go of the bicycle's handles - to let go is one thing, to fall is another!
If I lose my balance in nervousness and fear, afraid of falling to the earth, gravity and the earth are immediately conjured into being, so to speak, and then I really am in danger. But if I let go because I feel safe - then because I feel safe there is no conjuring of danger, neither of gravity nor of hard earth. Instead of a negative conjuring there could be a wonderful discovery - of freedom and of flight.
In the history of humanity there have no doubt been many sinkings of ships in which a sailor or two, by reason of a faith or confidence either naive or hard-earned, saved himself and the lives of his fellows because he didn't fall prey to the fear of falling. Others on the ship stood paralyzed and helpless, their hands tightly gripping the rails; but his hands were left free to tend to the work at hand.
And in the history of humanity so many people have fallen in love, and many more are falling in love at this moment. Some find a higher branch to hold on to; some stand on the highest branch and balance precariously, nothing to hold on to for support; some slip from the branch and fall hard to the ground; and some, too happy or brave or naive or wise for any thoughts of fear or danger, stand as surely and safely on that so high branch as if they were standing on the ground. Unaware of danger or maybe even of where they are, they might step right off the branch and into the air and the sky - and even then they don't fall.
I am no longer so naive, I am not so brave, I am sometimes happy and sometimes not - if I am to fly I guess I will have to be wise.