Love and The Ship of Theseus

Love and The Ship of Theseus

“Interesting,” I said. “Read this. Do you know that Salamander can regrow its tail completely?”

“Really?” asked Lulu, my parrot. “Amazing. Carnivores biting off its tail will not have pangs of conscience.”

“Ha ha!” Nina, my myna laughed. “Plants keep growing even if we cut them. But homo sapiens are not so lucky.”

(Lulu, my parrot)

“That’s true. We do not regrow our limbs. But homo sapiens have a great ability to reinvent themselves. Unlike other animals.” I replied.

“Some animals can grow a part of their body. Human beings grow their various abilities, that’s the difference.”

“Yes Nina, there was a boy in my class who was likeable though aggressive, and at times difficult to manage. He grew up to be a good leader and was loved by people.”

“His mother would have seen him change and must have loved him all the way in spite of his aggressive behaviour in the young days. Mothers have this special quality – they accept you as you are and facilitate constant evolution of a person.” Lulu, my parrot said.

“People evolve, but they also lose very loveable aspects of their personality. Little ones are so full of vitality, they grow up to become very circumspect people. I miss that vitality which my children and grandchildren had in their young days.”

“”Loving someone is attending a thousand funerals of the people they once used to be. That’s what Heidi Priebe says.” Nina, my myna chipped in.

“What?”

“Loving someone is attending a thousand funerals of the people they once used to be.” Nina repeated.

“Means ‘long-term love involves accepting and honoring the constant evolution of a person.’ I had to google to get the meaning!”

(Nina, my Myna)

“This is so true. Parents would tell you a hundred stories about how their child was a funny boy or girl and in the same breath they tell you that he or she is now a cardiac surgeon.” Lulu said.

“True, they love his or her constant evolution or transformation, though they miss the previous version of their child”

“Snakes shed their skins when they outgrow it and with it, they shed parasites too.”

“Ha ha! Not a nice example. I can’t imagine human beings shedding their skin! Larva to butterfly is a better example.” Nina said.

“This is all about shedding one’s identity. And acquiring a new one.”

“A question of Identity! That reminds me of a thought experiment – ‘The Ship of Theseus.’ If you replace few parts of the ship, is it the same ship? And if you replace all parts of the ship, is it the same ship?”

“Now! That’s a riddle!! I have seen people buying an old car and refitting its parts to make it a shining new car; I watched it on Discovery channel. Same or different? Well, my answer is ‘same’.” I spoke.

“I would disagree. How can you call it the same car?”

“That’s the point. It is a paradox. A paradox is ‘is a statement that is self-contradictory because it contains two components that are both true, but in general, cannot both be true at the same time.’”

“Interesting! An aggressive boy grows up as a thoughtful leader, is he the same person? A little girl who enjoyed fun and frolic becomes a cardiac surgeon, is she the same person?” Lulu observed.

“Yes and no! Ha ha!!” said Nina.

“We meet people who grow up, shed aspects of their personality, acquire new aspects, some may be to our liking and others otherwise. The real question is whether you love this transition in them, whether you continue to love them despite their some not-so-likeable aspects.”

“This will keep me thinking for a long time. People are imperfect. Long term love for someone means learning acceptance and does not come easily to me.” Lulu said.

“Yes. A part of me must be replaced to become an empathic and open-minded person. I think I am also like the Ship of Theseus!” I said as Lulu and Nina moved closer to me.

PS: Image by Kerstin Reimer on Pixabay