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

To possess or not to possess, that is the question. Can we, in truth, claim ownership over the vast array of objects that inhabit our mortal realm? This quandary, this conundrum, troubles the human mind, for we are creatures of desire, forever seeking to possess that which brings us joy, convenience, and solace. Rilke, a sage philosopher of love and existence, proffers a notion that possession, true possession, lies not in the physicality of an object, but in the ethereal realm of experience, in the intangible moments that shimmer like stars across the tapestry of our lives.

Rilke beseeches us to cast aside our preconceived notions of tangible ownership and instead embrace the notion that love resides not in the cold grip of possession, but rather in the warmth of connection. Like a child who adorns a toy with affection, we too, can find love in objects that bring us comfort, convenience, and joy. Let us ponder upon the smartphones that grace our hands, rendering communication effortless, and the laptops that alleviate the arduous task of composing missives upon parchment. Are we not inextricably linked to these marvels of technology? Do we not cherish them, carry them close to our hearts, and bask in the delight they bestow upon us? Such love, though tethered to the material world, is not rendered insignificant by its form. For in these objects, we find solace, companionship, and a sense of belonging.

Yet, I must pause and ponder the complexities of possession. What, indeed, does it mean to truly possess an object? Must we hold it in our grasp, our dominion enduring beyond the frailty of our mortal existence? Or can possession be akin to a fleeting affair, ephemeral in nature, existing only in the moment and dissipating like mist upon the morrow? I am inclined, dear reader, to opine that true ownership lies not in the durability of one's claim, but in the depth of one's connection to the object in question.

And thus, I find myself grappling with the weighty implications of transience. For in truth, if that which we claim as our own must inevitably meet its fate in the domain of obsolescence and decay, can it truly be said to be possessed? The objects that fill our lives, the trinkets and treasures we so fervently cling to, are but fleeting companions upon the journey of our existence. They dance with us in the tapestry of life for but a flicker of time before bidding us farewell, leaving us bereft and yearning for more.

So, let us reflect upon the paradox of ownership. Is it to be found in the tangible realm of physicality, or does it dwell within the intangible realm of experience? Can we, in truth, possess that which is bound to be cast aside, discarded, or relinquished? I am left to contemplate the impermanence of our mortal coil, and in doing so, I am drawn inexorably to the conclusion that true possession resides not in the act of clenching our fists around the material world, but in the act of embracing the ephemeral beauty that surrounds us and lives within us.

Dear student, as I pen these ruminations, I am reminded of the words of the Bard himself, who aptly quipped, "The web of our life is of a mingled yarn, good and ill together." So too, is the concept of possession entwined in a tapestry of contradictions. Let us, then, embrace the objects that enhance our lives, for they possess the power to bring joy, comfort, and convenience. Let us cherish them for the transient moments they grant us, knowing that true possession lies not in the grip of the hand, but in the embrace of the heart. And in yielding to this enlightened understanding, we may find solace and contentment in the ever-shifting tides of existence.