“我” 和“我们“ 的区别，不仅仅局限于爱情。
在很多能构成我们这个概念的场合都合适。
比如之前推文有提到过，如果一个组织要长久的话，最好有一些宏大的目标，是单个人没发解决的，只有通过组织才能实现，比如寺庙，比如大学。
因为只有这样，这个”我们“ 才会一直存在。
下面看到的David Brooks的这篇文章的载体是爱情。
有说到长久的婚姻，或者长久的感情，彼此之前会有一种契约感，更多的从我们的角度去思考。
The Covenant people tend to have a “we” consciousness. The good of the relationship itself comes first and the needs of the partner are second and the individual needs are third. The covenant only works if each partner, as best as possible, puts the other’s needs above his or her own, with the understanding that the other will reciprocate. 订立契约的人往往具有“我们”的意识。关系本身的良好状态是第一位的，伴侣的需求是第二位的，个人的需求排在第三位。只有每个伴侣都尽可能地把对方的需求置于个人需求之上、知道对方会做出回报，契约才能成立。
当我们是最大的时候，我是最小的时候，当然意味着得放弃一些自我的东西。
特别矛盾的是，人很多的快感或者愉悦来源是“自我得到满足”。
所以，文末有个思辨而又赶上的结论
The deepest joy sneaks in the back door when you are surrendering to some sacred promise. 当你屈服于某种神圣的承诺时，最深的快乐会从后门偷偷溜进来。
这个思路能解释一些不管是感情还是婚姻中的情况/现象。
当然想强调的是长期的稳定的感情不是一个“褒义词”，在感情中保有自我也不是贬义的。
以下为原文：David Brooks 的文字表达真的是好
原标题：What Romantic Regime Are You In?
原作者：David Brooks
原刊于：New York Times
Polina Aronson spent her first 16 years in Russia. There, people tend to regard love as a sort of divine madness that descends from the heavens. Love is regarded, as the sociologist Julia Lerner put it, as “a destiny, a moral act and a value; it is irresistible, it requires sacrifice and implies suffering and pain.” Russians measure one another by how well they are able to bear the upheaval love brings, sometimes to an absurd degree.
But when she was in high school, Aronson moved to America, and stumbled across an issue of Seventeen magazine. She was astounded. In America she noticed that people tended ask: Does a partner fulfill your needs? Do you feel comfortable asserting your rights in the relationship? Does your partner check the right boxes?
Aronson concluded that she had moved from the Russian Regime of Fate to the American Regime of Choice.
“The most important requirement for choice is not the availability of multiple options,” she writes in Aeon magazine. “It is the existence of a savvy, sovereign chooser who is well aware of his needs and who acts on the basis of self-interest.”
The Regime of Choice encourages a certain worldly pragmatism. It nurtures emotionally cool, semi-isolated individuals. If the Russian model is too reckless, the American model involves too much calculation and gamesmanship. “The greatest problem with the Regime of Choice stems from its misconception of maturity as absolute self-sufficiency,” Aronson writes. “Attachment is infantilized. The desire for recognition is rendered as ‘neediness.’ Intimacy must never challenge ‘personal boundaries.’”
Indeed, a lot of our social fragmentation grows out of the detached, utilitarian individualism that this regime embodies.
The dating market becomes a true market, where people carefully appraise each other, looking for red flags. The emphasis is on the prudential choice, selecting the right person who satisfies your desires. But somehow as people pragmatically “select” each other, marriage as an institution has gone into crisis. Marriage rates have plummeted at every age level. Most children born to women under 30 are born outside of wedlock. The choice mind-set seems to be self-defeating.
Even those of us who have had humbling experiences in this realm can look at those who seem to have this lifelong thing figured out and see a different set of attitudes and presuppositions, which you might call a Regime of Covenants. A covenant is not a choice, but a life-altering promise and all the binding the promise entails.
The Regime of Covenants acknowledges the fact that we don’t really choose our most important attachments the way you choose a toaster. In the flux of life you meet some breathtakingly amazing people, usually in the swirl of complex circumstances. There is a sense of being blown around by currents more astounding than you can predict and control. Mostly you’re bumblingly trying to figure out the right response to the moments you’re in.
When you are drawn together and make a pledge with a person, the swirl doesn’t end; it’s just that you’ll ride it together. In the Regime of Covenants, making the right one-time selection is less important than the ongoing action to serve the relationship.
The Covenant people tend to have a “we” consciousness. The good of the relationship itself comes first and the needs of the partner are second and the individual needs are third. The covenant only works if each partner, as best as possible, puts the other’s needs above his or her own, with the understanding that the other will reciprocate.
The underlying truth of a Covenantal Regime is that you have to close off choice if you want to get to the promised land. The people one sees in long, successful marriages have walked the stations of vulnerability. They’ve overthrown the proud ego and learned to be utterly dependent on the other. They’ve faced the ways they are difficult to be with and tried to address them. They’ve gone through all the normal episodes of confession, apology, defensiveness, forgiveness and loving the other most when there’s nothing lovely about them.
You only do all this if you’ve set up a framework in which exit is not an easy option, in which you’re assured the other person’s love is not going away, and in which the only way to survive the crises is to go deeper into the relationship itself.
The final feature of a covenant is that the relationship is not just about itself; it serves some larger purpose. The obvious one in many cases is raising children. But the deeper one is transformation. People in such a covenant try to love the other in a way that brings out their loveliness. They hope that through this service they’ll become a slightly less selfish version of themselves.
The Covenant Regime is based on the idea that our current formula is a conspiracy to make people unhappy. Love is realistically a stronger force than self-interest. Detached calculation in such matters is self-strangulating. The deepest joy sneaks in the back door when you are surrendering to some sacred promise.
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