Unselfish vs. Selfless
My father was a rare type of man. I didn’t realize it when he was alive, but he was the rarest form of selfless.
We start as selfish creatures. When we are young we need things. We need food. We need shelter. We need love. We need guidance. We need protection. We need knowledge. We need time. This is expected, and there is no shame here. We come into this world needing things.
If we are lucky and work at it, we are able to become householders. The sort of people that support others and provide them what they need, to themselves become providers. This work is unselfish. This work is giving. This work is sacrifice. This work is charity. This work is virtuous. But perhaps not quite selfless.
My father was a rare man, because his aims were always beyond that of being unselfish.
You see, a householder can have a dangerous addiction. As a householder, we are needed. Other people need us and what we provide to them.
And It is a wonderful thing to be needed. It is a wonderful thing, perhaps even a euphoric thing, to sacrifice for others. That feeling, of being needed, can be addictive.
The problem is, if we live in such a way where others continue to need us, they cannot transcend us. They cannot truly become householders themselves. There is a trade off here - if we want to be needed, we are by definition forcing others to be dependent on us.
What was rare about my father, I’ve realized, was that his aim all along was for the people in his world to not need him anymore. More than anything, he wanted me to not be dependent on him. From the time I was born, he was trying to put himself out of the job of being a father. He resisted the euphoria of feeling needed. Instead, he raised me so that I would not need him anymore.
This, I think, is what the difference between unselfishness and selflessness is. The unselfish man asks the question, “what can I provide to the world?". And the selfless man asks, “what can I do so that I am no longer needed?”.
It is a very hard task to intentionally try to put ourselves out of business. But it is perhaps the greatest, most selfless gift we can give.
My father was selfless, and that made him a rare type of man.