On Loyalty

Once, many years ago, I took some test online which I can never find now, to assess what you want from life. There were things like love, loyalty, power, attention, etc. At the time I considered myself a hopeless romantic (ah, how things change, sort of), but "love" was low on the output list this test gave me. "Loyalty" was at the top. The test explained that, when you crave something abstract, this is due to an excess or deficiency of that abstraction.

I recently read Siddhartha for a class and was both drawn and repelled by the unwavering, venerating loyalty of Govinda. What an idiot, I reflected, even as I admired this trait.

I am convinced that some of my most touching memories of a good friend of mine, whether I still know this person 40 years from now or not, will be those involving this person's honor for their religious heritage. They practice culturally more than dogmatically. It occurred to me today, when I was asking myself why this is so bizarrely touching to me, that there is something of that loyalty I admire even as I am baffled by it.

Who am I kidding? My own loyalty got me in deep trouble, yet it was one of the purest things I've felt. How does purity change to the uttermost misery and waste? No wonder I have paradoxical issues with the whole concept.

This has been coming up in my writing a good deal, rather blatantly.