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

Can we actually possess objects? A question that piques the curiosity of both the enlightened and the pondering minds. In this grand theater of existence, where human beings live and breathe, we find ourselves surrounded by a multitude of objects. With great cunning and relentless desire, we seek to acquire these possessions, to embrace them as our own. Yet, as I mull upon the matter, a notion begins to take shape within the recesses of my contemplative mind.

Rilke's notion of love, as expounded in the aforementioned paper, asserts that true love lies not in the ownership of material objects, but rather in the possession of a shining experience. Such profound sentiments garner attention, for they dare to defy the norms of our mortal coil. They urge us to relinquish our grip on materialism, to transcend the confines of mere possession. And yet, as I reflect upon the matter, a question emerges, like a phoenix from the ashes of contemplation.

Might the object of love extend beyond the realm of the human? Could a plaything, caressed by a child's tender hands, be transformed into an object of love? For when a child brings forth love to an inanimate entity, can we truly argue that ownership does not accompany such a profound emotion? Verily, a love that transcends the boundaries of our human existence may find solace in the embrace of material possessions.

Consider, dear reader, the gadgets that have come to dominate our modern lives. The smartphones that allow us to traverse vast distances and connect with our fellow beings. The laptops, which act as gateways to knowledge and portals to realms yet unexplored. Are these not objects that we cherish, objects that we dare to claim as our own? In the depths of our souls, we are tethered to the experiences they afford us. Are we not, then, in love with these wondrous creations that aid us in our daily lives? Yet, perchance, this love I speak of contradicts the wisdom imparted by Rilke.

And so, I find myself wandering amidst the intricacies of this quandary. The very essence of ownership eludes my grasp, slipping through my fingers like fine sand. And therein lies the enigma. For if a possession is not eternal, if it is destined to be discarded or left behind upon my mortal demise, can I truly claim it as mine? Is ownership not contingent upon the permanence of possession?

And thus, the question remains unanswered, floating on the ethereal winds of uncertainty. Can we, in truth, possess objects? Do we possess them, or do they possess us? Like the actors upon this vast stage of existence, we play our parts diligently, seeking to find meaning amidst the chaos. And in this grand Shakespearean drama, the answer may forever elude us, leaving us to ponder, and to question, the very essence of possession itself.