For instance, if you love flies and lice, which you also have to do to a certain extent, they will simply eat you up in the end.
But you have other animals that you have to love, so you must give each part of yourself a decent existence.
Then naturally the different kinds of animals will check each other.
The birds of prey will hinder a superabundance of mice or other little vermin.
The big animals of prey will eat many of the sheep and cows, so there will not be an overproduction of milk and butter and so on.
It is exactly the same in the human constitution: there are innumerable units with definite purposes, and each can overgrow all the others if you insist upon one particular unit.
But if you love yourself, you have to love the whole, and the part has to submit to the necessities of the whole in the interest of democracy.
You can say it is perfectly ridiculous, but we are ridiculous.
The management of the whole psychological situation, like the management of a country, consists of a lot of ridiculous things.
Like all nature, it is grotesque-all the funny animals you know-but they do exist and the whole is a symphony, after all.
If it is one-sided, you disturb the whole thing: you disturb that symphony and it becomes chaos.
Then it is also an excellent truth that one should not go roving about, as Nietzsche defines it:
“Such roving about christeneth itself “brotherly love”; with these
words hath there hitherto been the best lying and dissembling,
and especially by those who have been burdensome to everyone.”
Those are the people who go about and tell everybody how much they love them or what they ought to do for their own good, always assuming
that they know what is best for them.
Or the people who want to get rid of themselves, so they unburden themselves on others.
There are certain lazy dogs who want to get rid of their own destiny so they put it on somebody else by loving them.
They fall on the neck of someone saying, “I love you,” and so they put the bag on his back; they call that love.
Or they go to someone and burden him with what he really ought to do and they never do.
They never ask themselves what is good for themselves, but they know exactly what is good for him.
Do it yourself first and then you will know if it is really good.
So here Nietzsche tells other people they ought to fly-as if he could.
He cheats them as he has cheated himself.
It is the same mechanism that he blames Christian love for. But there is Christian love and Christian love.
When someone applies Christian love in the right way, it is a virtue and of the highest merit; but if he misuses Christian love in order to put his own
burdens on other people, he is immoral, a usurer, a cheat.
You see, if he loves other people with the purpose of making use of them, it is not love; he simply uses love as a pretext, a cover under which he hides his
own selfish interests.
To really love other people, he must first give evidence that he can love himself, for to love oneself is the most difficult task.
To love someone else is easy, but to love what you are, the thing that is yourself, is just as if you were embracing a glowing red-hot iron: it burns into you and that is very painful.
Therefore, to love somebody else in the first place is always an escape which we all hope for, and we all enjoy it when we are capable of it.
But in the long run, it comes back on us.
You cannot stay away from yourself forever, you have to return, have to come to that experiment, to know whether you really can love.
That is the question-whether you can love yourself, and that will be the test.
So when Nietzsche blames Christian love, he is simply blaming his own type. ~Carl Jung, Zarathustra Seminars, 1472-1474