It is not our purpose to become each other; it is to recognize

Hear the wisdom of Hermann Hesse, who spoke with the clarity of one who had wrestled with the mysteries of the human soul: “It is not our purpose to become each other; it is to recognize each other, to learn to see the other and honor him for what he is.” These words, born from a lifetime of reflection on the nature of love, friendship, and individuality, ring like a bell across the ages. They remind us that true connection is not the erasure of difference, but the reverence of it.

For to seek to become each other is to lose the sacred uniqueness that every soul carries. No two flames burn in the same way, no two rivers follow the same course, and no two hearts were meant to beat in perfect imitation. When men and women mistake unity for sameness, they strip life of its beauty. A garden where all flowers are of one kind is not a garden, but a field. It is the diversity of color, fragrance, and form that creates splendor. So too with human beings: love is not the swallowing of the other, but the seeing of the other in fullness.

When Hesse speaks of the need to recognize each other, he points to the deeper art of perception. To recognize is more than to notice; it is to acknowledge the truth of another’s existence, to say, “I see you, not as I wish you to be, but as you are.” This recognition is the foundation of compassion, of respect, and of peace. Without it, relationships collapse into control and domination, for one seeks to mold the other into a mirror of oneself, rather than honoring the mystery that stands before them.

Consider the tale of the friendship between Michelangelo and the poet Vittoria Colonna. He, a man of fiery genius and tireless labor; she, a woman of deep piety and grace. Their lives and vocations were different, yet they did not seek to become the same. Instead, they recognized and honored one another’s gifts, drawing strength from the exchange of differences. Michelangelo found in her not a mirror of himself, but a reflection of qualities he lacked, and their bond was richer for it. Such recognition gave birth to works of art and poetry that still stir the soul.

To honor the other for what he is requires humility. It demands that we set aside the hunger to control, the pride that insists others must bend to our shape. It calls us to kneel, in spirit, before the temple of another’s uniqueness. This is not weakness—it is the highest strength. The warrior who honors his comrade fights not to make him identical, but to stand beside him as he is. The lover who honors their beloved does not consume, but cherishes. The friend who honors another does not demand sameness, but rejoices in difference.

This teaching is urgent for every age, but especially for ours. Too often, people seek to merge identities, to erase individuality for the sake of comfort or control. Yet the true purpose of relationship is not erasure, but encounter. To meet another human soul is to behold a star unlike any other in the firmament. We do not ask the stars to shine with the same light; we marvel at their varied brilliance. So it must be with us.

The lesson is clear: do not seek to become the other, but to see and honor the other. In practice, this means listening without judgment, observing without rushing to mold, and celebrating difference rather than fearing it. In love, let your partner remain themselves. In friendship, rejoice in what sets you apart. In community, embrace the manifold voices, for together they weave the true harmony of mankind.

So let Hesse’s words be carried as a torch: recognition is love, honor is unity, and individuality is sacred. Do not confuse sameness with closeness, nor conformity with connection. See the other, honor the other, and in that act, life itself is justified. For it is not by becoming one another that we fulfill our purpose, but by standing side by side, fully ourselves, and yet bound in mutual reverence.