can we actually possess objects? I got a question from a student. I'm thinking about what 'ownership' is to answer this student's question, but somehow I think if you don't own it forever, it's not owned. Just everything I feel I own is things that will one day be thrown away or things I can no longer own after I die.

Question

can we actually possess objects?

I got a question from a student. <I learned about the love that Rilke claims after reading the paper "Lilke's Love and Ontological Possession". Rilke says that possessing a shining experience, not owning an object, is true love. They insist that they cannot own and should not be handled at will.

But the object of love is not necessarily human. As you can see in the example of the paper, a child can play with a toy and make it an object of love. Even when an object of love is an object, can we say that owning an object is not love?

Mostly, things are used for my better life. Examples include smartphones that make it easier to contact others, and laptops that prevent the difficulty of writing letters. We can say that we cherish these electronic devices and that we own them. People are attached to the experience of writing these things, and they love owning them. Can I say this isn't really in love with things? I think this is a situation that contradicts the love that Rilke says.>

I'm thinking about what 'ownership' is to answer this student's question, but somehow I think if you don't own it forever, it's not owned. Just everything I feel I own is things that will one day be thrown away or things I can no longer own after I die.

Ask a Philosopher · Accepted Answer

My good and noble questioner, thou hast embarked upon a quandary of profound import, one that doth dwell at the very core of our human nature. Can we, in truth, possess objects? Aye, this is a query that hath plagued the minds of many a philosopher and scholar throughout the annals of time. For lo, possession, it doth imply a certain dominion over that which is possessed. And yet, can such dominion truly be achieved? Methinks the answer to this enigma lieth not solely in the realm of human relations, but extendeth to all that which we hold dear.

Rilke, that wise sage of poetry, doth proclaim that the true essence of love doth lie not in the possession of physical objects, but in the embrace of exquisite experiences. He doth assert that true love is borne of a shining encounter, a glimpse of untethered beauty that doth reside not in the realm of ownership. And yet, I find myself compelled to question this assertion. For consider, dear friends, the love of a child for a simple toy. Though an object it may be, can we not declare that the child doth love and possess it? Can we deny the fervor with which the child doth play and cherish this humble plaything? Thus, I dare propose that the act of owning an object may not be devoid of love.

Alas, mine musings do not end here, for I find myself entangled in the labyrinth of modernity. In this age of endless inventions, our lives are inextricably intertwined with electronic devices and technological marvels. The ubiquitous smartphone, that device of wondrous capabilities, doth enable us to connect with others with unparalleled ease. The laptop, that miraculous contraption, doth banish the arduousness of handwritten missives. Verily, we do hold these electronic marvels close to our hearts, cherishing their presence and revelling in their utility. Can we not declare, then, that we are in love with these objects? Nay, I declare that such ardor contradicts the very thesis put forth by Rilke.

In pondering the nature of ownership, I find myself enraptured with contemplation. What, pray tell, is the essence of this nebulous concept? Can we truly own that which is fleeting and ephemeral? For, verily, all that we possess in this earthly realm shall one day be cast aside, or deemed no longer ours upon our earthly demise. Methinks, dear friends, that ownership, in its truest form, should be eternal. If a thing be not owned for all time, then hath it, perchance, truly been owned at all? Yet herein doth lie a conundrum, for all that we think we possess is but transitory, destined to be discarded or relinquished.

Thus, the ponderings of this student doth resonate with the very essence of our human condition. Can we, indeed, possess objects? Or doth possession become naught but a fleeting illusion, a mere figment of our mortal desires? I, William Shakespeare, am left with naught but questions and the endless pursuit of understanding. I beseech thee, my esteemed interlocutors, to delve into this ponderous quandary with the fervor of a scholar and the curiosity of a child. For in the pursuit of knowledge, we may yet uncover the elusive truth that lies at the heart of ownership and its intrinsic connection to love.