A life of purpose seems to be a rather sought-out sort of thing. Seriously, some spend their whole lives in pursuit of that purpose which will embue usefulness on all of their actions - actions which are otherwise seen as completely pointless. Something to keep in mind: a cow on a dairy farm has this kind of purpose.
Is that really the kind of purpose you want? To not belong to yourself, to be only a means, to be used, to need someone who will use you?
Alan Watts presents a different idea. He asks, "When you dance, do you aim to arrive at a particular place on the floor? Is that the idea of dancing?" Is the aim of life to arrive at a particular place - whether it's wealth, fame, success, or maybe heaven? "Of course not, the point of dancing is to dance!" In the same way, the point of living is to live! Meaning does not come from without, it comes from within. Have you ever danced for some purpose other than dancing itself? What a hassle! It's utterly bothersome.
The addition of external justifications/reasons/destinations onto that which is inherently enjoyable serves only self-destructive ends. We end up missing the whole thing!
Dance. Live.
Monday, April 24, 2006
Not Marble Nor the Gilded Monuments
The praisers of women in their proud and beautiful poems,
Naming the grave and the hair and the eyes,
Boasted those they loved should be forever remembered:
These were lies.
The words sound but the face in the Istrian sun is forgotten.
The poet speaks but to her dead ears no more.
The sleek throat is gone -- and the breast that was troubled to listen:
Shadow from door.
Therefore I will not speak of the undying glory of women.
I will say you were young and straight and your skin fair
And you stood in the door and the sun was a shadow of leaves on your shoulders
And a leaf on your hair –
I will not speak of the famous beauty of dead women:
I will say the shape of a leaf lay once on your hair.
Till the world ends and the eyes are out and the mouths broken,
Look! It is there!
-- Archibald MacLeish
The last line delights me.
Naming the grave and the hair and the eyes,
Boasted those they loved should be forever remembered:
These were lies.
The words sound but the face in the Istrian sun is forgotten.
The poet speaks but to her dead ears no more.
The sleek throat is gone -- and the breast that was troubled to listen:
Shadow from door.
Therefore I will not speak of the undying glory of women.
I will say you were young and straight and your skin fair
And you stood in the door and the sun was a shadow of leaves on your shoulders
And a leaf on your hair –
I will not speak of the famous beauty of dead women:
I will say the shape of a leaf lay once on your hair.
Till the world ends and the eyes are out and the mouths broken,
Look! It is there!
-- Archibald MacLeish
The last line delights me.
Labels:
Poetry
Sunday, April 23, 2006
Walls
"The way in which a theologian… interprets… is always so audacious as to make a philologist run up every wall in sight.”
-- Nietzsche
A recent discussion has led me to realize that, before embarking on any analysis, we have to be clear about our epistemological paradigm. In other words, we need to know the criteria we require before we pronounce something as true or certain. This is closely tied to the concepts of probability and possibility.
Many individuals have what is called "certitude". According to Webster's, certitude is the feeling of "absolute sureness or conviction". "Certitude" is different from "certainty". Webster's gives certainty as the "state or fact of being certain". The difference is this: the latter is an objective statement of a situation while the former is a subjective description of one person's views. Thus feeling, "knowing in your heart", that one is right (certitude) is different from being able to demonstrate it (certainty).
Where can we find certainty? Strictly speaking, the only certainties we have are in the fields of mathematics and logic. But these are "mental constructs" and their deductive certainty comes from the fact that we define certainty into it. Thus "1+1 = 2" is certainly true because we defined "2" as the next number after "1". Mathematics and logic also allows us to pronounce, with certainty, the impossibility of some concepts. These include concepts like a square circle or a four-sided triangle. The reader will note that it is simply not possible to imagine these! In other words we can be certain that square circles and four sided triangles cannot exist.
When it comes to the empirical world, though, this certainty disappears. Let us take, as an example, this statement of fact:
The Sun will rise from the east tomorrow.
This is, admittedly, a rather quaint geocentric rendering but you get the idea. Now our belief that this statement is true comes from the fact that all our experiences in the past and in recorded history have shown that the sun had risen from the east without fail. Furthermore our collection of the habits of nature summarized in physics (conservation of angular momentum and the law of gravitation) supports this fact.
However as David Hume showed a long time ago, all these findings, in support of our certainty that the sun will rise from the east tomorrow, are taken from the past. There is no logical contradiction in thinking that the future may be different. For instance, I can say:
The Sun will rise from the west tomorrow.
And I can imagine it in a way that I cannot imagine a four-sided triangle! So, strictly speaking, anything that is not logically contradictory is, in principle, possible.
That's not where the analysis ends though. For if we believe anything is possible than we have no way of deciding anything. The reason why we take the fact that the sun will rise from the east tomorrow as virtually certain is that our past experiences, coupled with our knowledge of science and history, give us a high confidence level (a very high probability) that the event will happen again tomorrow. Indeed I would classify anyone denying this as being delusional. Thus we are justified in saying that this is one thing that approaches certainty. Note how possibility, apart from setting an initial counter-example, plays no role at all in the decision making process.
Similarly historical reconstructions are all done on the basis of evaluation of the evidence and the probability of the various scenarios. This is how reason works, in science, in history and in life.
This is not the case with fundamentalist Christian apologetic "reasoning". Almost invariably, fundamentalist Christian apologists "reason" from the basis of possibility.
One example of this is from the recent Christian bestseller, Lee Strobel's The Case for Christ, in discussing the conflicting genealogies of Jesus in Matthew and Luke (Matt 1:1-16 and Luke 3:23-32). Strobel quoted Craig Blomberg as suggesting "two options" to "resolve" this difficulty: the first option is that Luke's genealogy is of Mary, while Matthew's is of Joseph, the second "option" is the "levirate" explanation, i.e. that while both genealogies traces Joseph's ancestries, one traces the legal ancestry (levirate) while the other traces his biological one. These options, according to Strobel, provide "rational explanations" and give a "reasonable harmonization" of the gospel accounts.
Note the fallacy here. Blomberg was merely providing additional possibilities that may account for the discrepancy in genealogies. The third possibility, that this indeed is a contradiction, has not been proven wrong (i.e. shown to be improbable). Thus most scholars would take these possibilities as a starting point for analysis (i.e. to look into the probability of various explanations) not the ending or the resolution of a problem, as Blomberg and Strobel clearly intended it to be.
The root cause of the fallacy is simple. Embedded within this method of "reasoning" is the belief (certitude) that the Bible is inerrant and the moment there are possible explanations for various "difficulties", the problem is considered solved! This is not how things work in reasoned discourse. (Remember that it is "possible" that the sun may rise from the west tomorrow!)
Dr. Robert Miller, a fellow of the Jesus Seminar, gets the last word:
"The concept of possibility is not very helpful in historical matters. Endless historical scenarios can be concocted, and virtually all of them are possible, even the weirdest and most fantastic. That's why to say that a certain scenario is possible almost always is to say nothing about it at all.
...But it's crucial to make the distinction between possibility and probability because very different criteria apply in each case. To be historically possible, something only needs to be imaginable. However, for something to be historically probable means that there is some evidence for it. Not everyone in the historical Jesus discussion seems aware of this distinction, for we often read statements like "Isn't it possible that Jesus...?" Fill in the blank with any scenario you like, no matter how you like: the answer will always be yes."
-- Nietzsche
A recent discussion has led me to realize that, before embarking on any analysis, we have to be clear about our epistemological paradigm. In other words, we need to know the criteria we require before we pronounce something as true or certain. This is closely tied to the concepts of probability and possibility.
Many individuals have what is called "certitude". According to Webster's, certitude is the feeling of "absolute sureness or conviction". "Certitude" is different from "certainty". Webster's gives certainty as the "state or fact of being certain". The difference is this: the latter is an objective statement of a situation while the former is a subjective description of one person's views. Thus feeling, "knowing in your heart", that one is right (certitude) is different from being able to demonstrate it (certainty).
Where can we find certainty? Strictly speaking, the only certainties we have are in the fields of mathematics and logic. But these are "mental constructs" and their deductive certainty comes from the fact that we define certainty into it. Thus "1+1 = 2" is certainly true because we defined "2" as the next number after "1". Mathematics and logic also allows us to pronounce, with certainty, the impossibility of some concepts. These include concepts like a square circle or a four-sided triangle. The reader will note that it is simply not possible to imagine these! In other words we can be certain that square circles and four sided triangles cannot exist.
When it comes to the empirical world, though, this certainty disappears. Let us take, as an example, this statement of fact:
The Sun will rise from the east tomorrow.
This is, admittedly, a rather quaint geocentric rendering but you get the idea. Now our belief that this statement is true comes from the fact that all our experiences in the past and in recorded history have shown that the sun had risen from the east without fail. Furthermore our collection of the habits of nature summarized in physics (conservation of angular momentum and the law of gravitation) supports this fact.
However as David Hume showed a long time ago, all these findings, in support of our certainty that the sun will rise from the east tomorrow, are taken from the past. There is no logical contradiction in thinking that the future may be different. For instance, I can say:
The Sun will rise from the west tomorrow.
And I can imagine it in a way that I cannot imagine a four-sided triangle! So, strictly speaking, anything that is not logically contradictory is, in principle, possible.
That's not where the analysis ends though. For if we believe anything is possible than we have no way of deciding anything. The reason why we take the fact that the sun will rise from the east tomorrow as virtually certain is that our past experiences, coupled with our knowledge of science and history, give us a high confidence level (a very high probability) that the event will happen again tomorrow. Indeed I would classify anyone denying this as being delusional. Thus we are justified in saying that this is one thing that approaches certainty. Note how possibility, apart from setting an initial counter-example, plays no role at all in the decision making process.
Similarly historical reconstructions are all done on the basis of evaluation of the evidence and the probability of the various scenarios. This is how reason works, in science, in history and in life.
This is not the case with fundamentalist Christian apologetic "reasoning". Almost invariably, fundamentalist Christian apologists "reason" from the basis of possibility.
One example of this is from the recent Christian bestseller, Lee Strobel's The Case for Christ, in discussing the conflicting genealogies of Jesus in Matthew and Luke (Matt 1:1-16 and Luke 3:23-32). Strobel quoted Craig Blomberg as suggesting "two options" to "resolve" this difficulty: the first option is that Luke's genealogy is of Mary, while Matthew's is of Joseph, the second "option" is the "levirate" explanation, i.e. that while both genealogies traces Joseph's ancestries, one traces the legal ancestry (levirate) while the other traces his biological one. These options, according to Strobel, provide "rational explanations" and give a "reasonable harmonization" of the gospel accounts.
Note the fallacy here. Blomberg was merely providing additional possibilities that may account for the discrepancy in genealogies. The third possibility, that this indeed is a contradiction, has not been proven wrong (i.e. shown to be improbable). Thus most scholars would take these possibilities as a starting point for analysis (i.e. to look into the probability of various explanations) not the ending or the resolution of a problem, as Blomberg and Strobel clearly intended it to be.
The root cause of the fallacy is simple. Embedded within this method of "reasoning" is the belief (certitude) that the Bible is inerrant and the moment there are possible explanations for various "difficulties", the problem is considered solved! This is not how things work in reasoned discourse. (Remember that it is "possible" that the sun may rise from the west tomorrow!)
Dr. Robert Miller, a fellow of the Jesus Seminar, gets the last word:
"The concept of possibility is not very helpful in historical matters. Endless historical scenarios can be concocted, and virtually all of them are possible, even the weirdest and most fantastic. That's why to say that a certain scenario is possible almost always is to say nothing about it at all.
...But it's crucial to make the distinction between possibility and probability because very different criteria apply in each case. To be historically possible, something only needs to be imaginable. However, for something to be historically probable means that there is some evidence for it. Not everyone in the historical Jesus discussion seems aware of this distinction, for we often read statements like "Isn't it possible that Jesus...?" Fill in the blank with any scenario you like, no matter how you like: the answer will always be yes."
Labels:
Philosophy,
Religion
Thursday, April 20, 2006
#492
You know those moments in life that make you stop; the moments we hardly ever catch while they are happening: the moments that, when we look back upon them, have meaning. I was browsing through websites in an attempt to find more information for a paper I'm writing when I noticed a web-based chat room at the bottom of the page. It had only the word "Om" typed in again and again ("Om" is the transliteration of the word/sound that is used/produced during Hindu meditation). His name is #492, that is all I will ever know to call him.
He was on an LSD trip - I'm surprised he was able to type at all. We shared thoughts on the unity of all things. We spoke of the isolation of individuals and how it stands in stark contrast to that unity. We dreamt together of a world without alienation.
He called me his brother, I called him my friend.
He called me a being of light, but... he was on an hallucinogen.
He was on an LSD trip - I'm surprised he was able to type at all. We shared thoughts on the unity of all things. We spoke of the isolation of individuals and how it stands in stark contrast to that unity. We dreamt together of a world without alienation.
He called me his brother, I called him my friend.
He called me a being of light, but... he was on an hallucinogen.
Labels:
Life
Tuesday, April 18, 2006
Nietzsche: Thoughts on Christ
Christ, and Christianity “was a revolt against ‘the good and the just’, against ‘the saints of Israel’, against the social hierarchy – not against corruption of these but against caste, privilege, the order, the social form; it was disbelief in ‘higher men’, a No uttered towards everything that was priest and theologian.”
“…the incapacity for resistance here becomes morality, blessedness in peace, in gentleness, in the inability for enmity. What are the ‘glad tidings’? True life, eternal life is found – it is not promised, it is here, it is within you: as life lived in love, in love without deduction or exclusion, without distance.”
“In the entire psychology of the ‘Gospel’ the concept guilt and punishment is lacking; likewise the concept reward. ‘Sin’, every kind of distancing relationship between God and man, is abolished – precisely this is the ‘glad tidings’. Blessedness is not promised, it is not tired to any conditions: it is the only reality – the rest is signs for speaking of it…”
“It is not a ‘belief’ which distinguishes the Christian: the Christian acts, he is distinguished by a different mode of acting. He is not angry with anyone, does not disdain anyone. He neither appears in courts of law nor claims their protection (‘not swearing’). Under no circumstances, not even in the case of proved unfaithfulness, does he divorce his wife. – All fundamentally one law, all consequences of one instinct.”
“He no longer required any formulas, any rites for communicating with God – not even prayer... A new way of living, not a new belief…”
“This ‘bringer of glad tidings’ died as he lived, as he taught – not to ‘redeem mankind’ but to demonstrate how one ought to live. What he bequeathed to mankind is his practice: his bearing before the judges, before the guards, before the accusers and every kind of calumny and mockery – his bearing on the Cross. He did not resist, he does not defend his rights, he takes no steps to avert the worst that can happen to him – more, he provokes it… And he entreats, he suffers, he loves with those, in those who are doing evil to him.
"Not to defend oneself, not to grow angry, not to make responsible… But not to resist even the evil man – to love him…”
“If anyone was looking for a sign that an ironical divinity was at work behind the great universal drama he would find no small support in the tremendous question-mark called Christianity. That mankind should fall on its knees before the opposite of what was the origin, the meaning, the right of the Gospel, that it should have sanctified in the concept ‘Church’ precisely what the ‘bringer of glad tidings’ regarded as beneath him, behind him – one seeks in vain a grander form of world-historical irony.”
“…the incapacity for resistance here becomes morality, blessedness in peace, in gentleness, in the inability for enmity. What are the ‘glad tidings’? True life, eternal life is found – it is not promised, it is here, it is within you: as life lived in love, in love without deduction or exclusion, without distance.”
“In the entire psychology of the ‘Gospel’ the concept guilt and punishment is lacking; likewise the concept reward. ‘Sin’, every kind of distancing relationship between God and man, is abolished – precisely this is the ‘glad tidings’. Blessedness is not promised, it is not tired to any conditions: it is the only reality – the rest is signs for speaking of it…”
“It is not a ‘belief’ which distinguishes the Christian: the Christian acts, he is distinguished by a different mode of acting. He is not angry with anyone, does not disdain anyone. He neither appears in courts of law nor claims their protection (‘not swearing’). Under no circumstances, not even in the case of proved unfaithfulness, does he divorce his wife. – All fundamentally one law, all consequences of one instinct.”
“He no longer required any formulas, any rites for communicating with God – not even prayer... A new way of living, not a new belief…”
“This ‘bringer of glad tidings’ died as he lived, as he taught – not to ‘redeem mankind’ but to demonstrate how one ought to live. What he bequeathed to mankind is his practice: his bearing before the judges, before the guards, before the accusers and every kind of calumny and mockery – his bearing on the Cross. He did not resist, he does not defend his rights, he takes no steps to avert the worst that can happen to him – more, he provokes it… And he entreats, he suffers, he loves with those, in those who are doing evil to him.
"Not to defend oneself, not to grow angry, not to make responsible… But not to resist even the evil man – to love him…”
“If anyone was looking for a sign that an ironical divinity was at work behind the great universal drama he would find no small support in the tremendous question-mark called Christianity. That mankind should fall on its knees before the opposite of what was the origin, the meaning, the right of the Gospel, that it should have sanctified in the concept ‘Church’ precisely what the ‘bringer of glad tidings’ regarded as beneath him, behind him – one seeks in vain a grander form of world-historical irony.”
Labels:
Philosophy,
Religion
Monday, April 17, 2006
Symbolism Lost
The Greek word hamartia (ἁμαρτία) is the word often translated as sin in the New Testament; it means "to miss the mark" or "to miss the point".
What an intelligible way of understanding sin. Not as a distancing between God and man, not as damnable action, but as a revealing of our propensity to see things narrowly. A sin is simply a misunderstanding, a way of acting that is counterintuitive to your own flourishing. The question becomes: Why do we trivialize ourselves by competing for such worthless prizes? The concept of guilt done away with; any chasm between God and man denied. An "actual and not merely promised happiness on earth.”
What happened?
What an intelligible way of understanding sin. Not as a distancing between God and man, not as damnable action, but as a revealing of our propensity to see things narrowly. A sin is simply a misunderstanding, a way of acting that is counterintuitive to your own flourishing. The question becomes: Why do we trivialize ourselves by competing for such worthless prizes? The concept of guilt done away with; any chasm between God and man denied. An "actual and not merely promised happiness on earth.”
What happened?
Labels:
Philosophy,
Religion
Saturday, April 15, 2006
Respect
It hit me tonight. A friend whom I used to be very close to said "I don't feel like you respect me." What hit me was that such a comment would be so entirely justified. In fact, respecting the beliefs of others sounds entirely reasonable - at least until you think about it. The problem is in knowing where to draw the line. I can understand why, for example, Presbyterians should respect the beliefs of Methodists. They’re practically the same thing.
But what about those Heaven’s Gate guys who believed they should kill themselves so their souls could follow a comet? Am I obligated to respect those beliefs too? How about the people who give away all of their possessions because they have determined the exact date that the world will end? Do I respect their opinions up to the predicted end-time and then, after it passes, keep on respecting their opinion while they are begging the neighbors to give back their former possessions?
I suppose you could argue that we should respect any religion that is peaceful and has good intentions at its core.
In the moments of that conversation, I realized how fundamentally different she and I were - how different we are. She wants nothing to do with my questions and my thoughts. Why should she? They are dangerous and damaging towards a way of understanding the world that works for her. But, if that way of understanding the world is taken to be true and not merely perceptually functional, than questions should serve to strengthen that viewpoint - not damage it. The pursuit of truth should bring one to 'God' if that god is true.
So, why are so many afraid of the questions? Why are so many frustrated by the questions?
Consider this: You are a merchant in Rome. The year is 1644. During the course of your daily walk home, you run into an old friend. He introduces you to the man standing next to him, mentioning something about a book entitled A Dialogue Concerning the Two Chief World Systems. You soon discover that this man actually believes the Earth revolves around the sun. At first, you listen with mild amusement at what you consider to be an entirely absurd belief. But then something happens, you realize that he doesn't seem delusional nor does he seem a simpleton. He is backing up everything he says. Then the unthinkable happens, he begins to make sense. You suddenly find yourself feeling frustrated and disconcerted. Why? Because you are unable to defend against this man's fantastical and outlandish claims.
Do you know how this would feel? Imagine conversing with someone who believed that the sun revolved around the Earth. That's how radical this claim would seem to 17th century merchant. Now imagine that you were put on the spot to defend your belief that the earth rotates around the sun but found yourself unable to do so, how would you feel?
"I don't think I would care if I could defend it or not because I would know it was true."
How do you know that the Earth revolves around the sun other than what professors and books have told you all of your life? How is that any different from the way in which people knew that the sun revolved around the Earth? Are we fundamentally more intelligent than those who have gone before us? No. We all just believe what is common to believe in whatever time period we find ourselves in.
Thus, our entire perception of reality is colored with the assumption that we have to be right, and therefore the evidence must somehow fit. So we think we can make anything up on the spur of the moment and be "sure" it's true. This is the exact opposite of what all the most profound thinkers have done. They start with the evidence and then figure out what the best explanation of it all really is, regardless of where this quest for truth takes them.
So - while others busied themselves with constructing fanciful explanations for the failures of their culturally transmitted geocentric theory, a fellow by the name of Copernicus decided to simply take a look at things...
But what about those Heaven’s Gate guys who believed they should kill themselves so their souls could follow a comet? Am I obligated to respect those beliefs too? How about the people who give away all of their possessions because they have determined the exact date that the world will end? Do I respect their opinions up to the predicted end-time and then, after it passes, keep on respecting their opinion while they are begging the neighbors to give back their former possessions?
I suppose you could argue that we should respect any religion that is peaceful and has good intentions at its core.
In the moments of that conversation, I realized how fundamentally different she and I were - how different we are. She wants nothing to do with my questions and my thoughts. Why should she? They are dangerous and damaging towards a way of understanding the world that works for her. But, if that way of understanding the world is taken to be true and not merely perceptually functional, than questions should serve to strengthen that viewpoint - not damage it. The pursuit of truth should bring one to 'God' if that god is true.
So, why are so many afraid of the questions? Why are so many frustrated by the questions?
Consider this: You are a merchant in Rome. The year is 1644. During the course of your daily walk home, you run into an old friend. He introduces you to the man standing next to him, mentioning something about a book entitled A Dialogue Concerning the Two Chief World Systems. You soon discover that this man actually believes the Earth revolves around the sun. At first, you listen with mild amusement at what you consider to be an entirely absurd belief. But then something happens, you realize that he doesn't seem delusional nor does he seem a simpleton. He is backing up everything he says. Then the unthinkable happens, he begins to make sense. You suddenly find yourself feeling frustrated and disconcerted. Why? Because you are unable to defend against this man's fantastical and outlandish claims.
Do you know how this would feel? Imagine conversing with someone who believed that the sun revolved around the Earth. That's how radical this claim would seem to 17th century merchant. Now imagine that you were put on the spot to defend your belief that the earth rotates around the sun but found yourself unable to do so, how would you feel?
"I don't think I would care if I could defend it or not because I would know it was true."
How do you know that the Earth revolves around the sun other than what professors and books have told you all of your life? How is that any different from the way in which people knew that the sun revolved around the Earth? Are we fundamentally more intelligent than those who have gone before us? No. We all just believe what is common to believe in whatever time period we find ourselves in.
Thus, our entire perception of reality is colored with the assumption that we have to be right, and therefore the evidence must somehow fit. So we think we can make anything up on the spur of the moment and be "sure" it's true. This is the exact opposite of what all the most profound thinkers have done. They start with the evidence and then figure out what the best explanation of it all really is, regardless of where this quest for truth takes them.
So - while others busied themselves with constructing fanciful explanations for the failures of their culturally transmitted geocentric theory, a fellow by the name of Copernicus decided to simply take a look at things...
Labels:
Philosophy,
Religion
Wednesday, April 12, 2006
Vision of the Good
Bertrand Russell had a way of 'translating' and 'transmitting' the esoteric into the accessible - a refreshing rarity. His voice carried enormous moral authority, even into his early 90s. In 1950, he was made a Nobel Laureate in Literature "in recognition of his varied and significant writings in which he champions humanitarian ideals and freedom of thought." While he could find no reason whatsoever to believe in a benevolent god figure, he did believe in the power of spirituality - the power of ideals.
"Let us admit that, in the world we know, there are many things that would be better otherwise, and that the ideals to which we do and must adhere are not realized in the realm of matter. Let us preserve our respect for truth, for beauty, for the ideal of perfection which life does not permit us to attain, though none of these things meet with the approval of the unconscious universe."
When faced with the complete indifference of the universe, with the frustration of our plans because our ideals exist purely in our minds and never in reality... we have a choice.
"In this [choice] lies man’s true freedom: in determination to worship only the god created by our own love of the good, to respect only the heaven which inspires the insight of our best moments. In action, in desire, we must submit perpetually to the tyranny of outside forces; but in thought, in aspiration, we are free, free from our fellow men, free from the petty planet on which our bodies impotently crawl, free even, while we live, from the tyranny of death... We are ourselves the ultimate and irrefutable arbiters of value... It is we who create value and our desires which confer value... It is for us to determine the good life."
We hold the ideals in our minds. We see things as they are; we approach human nature in the full recognition that it's both good and bad. We acknowledge that things would be better if they were otherwise. But we embrace our symbols and ideals because they allow us to frame life in beautiful ways - they bring out the best in us - regardless of their veracity. Knowing that a symbol exists only in the mind doesn't make it any less potent.
It is commonly said that nature cares not for our ideals, but this isn't entirely true. Are we not a part of this universe? If evolutionary theory means anything at all, it means that we have grown out of this world in exactly the same way an apple grows out of an apple tree. So it is through our thoughts that the universe cares about our dreams and ideals. But it is only through our thoughts, for our dreams and ideals exist nowhere else.
Everything that happens is a reaching towards - a grasping of those dreams that we know will never come to fruition. But consider, would you really want to acquire everything, to achieve every dream? Think, for a moment, upon the immense pleasure you've received from aspiring towards something. What happens when you achieve it? You immediately find something else to strive towards. Of course we desire the desired, it would scarcely qualify as an object of desire otherwise, but our sense of meaning and fulfillment comes from the desiring. Our deepest desire is for the desiring.
Imagine if everything was accomplished: there'd be absolutely nothing to do - unmitigated boredom. Humanity would slowly fade away. It for this reason that I think there will always be things to strive towards. Perhaps, in light of this, by blocking the complete realization of our dreams, nature has done a far kinder thing than we often think.
"Let us learn, then, that energy of faith which enables us to live constantly in the vision of the good; and let us descend, in action, into the world of fact, with that vision always before us."
"Let us admit that, in the world we know, there are many things that would be better otherwise, and that the ideals to which we do and must adhere are not realized in the realm of matter. Let us preserve our respect for truth, for beauty, for the ideal of perfection which life does not permit us to attain, though none of these things meet with the approval of the unconscious universe."
When faced with the complete indifference of the universe, with the frustration of our plans because our ideals exist purely in our minds and never in reality... we have a choice.
"In this [choice] lies man’s true freedom: in determination to worship only the god created by our own love of the good, to respect only the heaven which inspires the insight of our best moments. In action, in desire, we must submit perpetually to the tyranny of outside forces; but in thought, in aspiration, we are free, free from our fellow men, free from the petty planet on which our bodies impotently crawl, free even, while we live, from the tyranny of death... We are ourselves the ultimate and irrefutable arbiters of value... It is we who create value and our desires which confer value... It is for us to determine the good life."
We hold the ideals in our minds. We see things as they are; we approach human nature in the full recognition that it's both good and bad. We acknowledge that things would be better if they were otherwise. But we embrace our symbols and ideals because they allow us to frame life in beautiful ways - they bring out the best in us - regardless of their veracity. Knowing that a symbol exists only in the mind doesn't make it any less potent.
It is commonly said that nature cares not for our ideals, but this isn't entirely true. Are we not a part of this universe? If evolutionary theory means anything at all, it means that we have grown out of this world in exactly the same way an apple grows out of an apple tree. So it is through our thoughts that the universe cares about our dreams and ideals. But it is only through our thoughts, for our dreams and ideals exist nowhere else.
Everything that happens is a reaching towards - a grasping of those dreams that we know will never come to fruition. But consider, would you really want to acquire everything, to achieve every dream? Think, for a moment, upon the immense pleasure you've received from aspiring towards something. What happens when you achieve it? You immediately find something else to strive towards. Of course we desire the desired, it would scarcely qualify as an object of desire otherwise, but our sense of meaning and fulfillment comes from the desiring. Our deepest desire is for the desiring.
Imagine if everything was accomplished: there'd be absolutely nothing to do - unmitigated boredom. Humanity would slowly fade away. It for this reason that I think there will always be things to strive towards. Perhaps, in light of this, by blocking the complete realization of our dreams, nature has done a far kinder thing than we often think.
"Let us learn, then, that energy of faith which enables us to live constantly in the vision of the good; and let us descend, in action, into the world of fact, with that vision always before us."
Labels:
Philosophy,
Religion
Reeling
I feel as if I’m reeling. Nietzsche has effectively dismantled many convictions that I have long held to; or more accurately, that I have grown up with. Yes, I mean that in the sense that beliefs were passed down to me from my parents. However, the deeper connotation of the phrase lays in its proximity to who I am. Ideas of Christian superiority and singularity were formed and refined with ideas of words and triangles. When something is so intricately connected, separation can be painful. I acknowledged this possibility when I became a Philosophy major, and Nietzsche asserts the same idea:
“When on earth was it established that true judgments give more enjoyment than false ones… The experience of all severe, all profound intellects teaches the reverse. Truth has to be fought for every step of the way, almost everything else dear to our hearts, on which our love and our trust in life depend, has had to be sacrificed to it. Greatness of soul is needed for it: the service of truth is the hardest service.”
Nietzsche’s words resonated in my head as I experienced that feeling that soothes (if only in a small way) the soul. That is, the feeling that someone else has gone through what I am going through. Nietzsche saw, as I now see, the price at which truth is acquired. Though I have only begun to glimpse the beauty of the truth. The beauty of truth? Its beauty lies not in pleasure, it lies only within itself. Truth is beautiful because it is truth, not because it gives us hope or happiness.
And yet, is the truth so ugly that it only be called beautiful by its own nature? Must pain always accompany truth? Is a life of truth so devoid of hope and happiness? If not, why then is it the common response? Could it be the convictions of yesterday writhing in the depths of where they were formed; straining to regain the control they have lost? Like I said, separation can be painful.
“When on earth was it established that true judgments give more enjoyment than false ones… The experience of all severe, all profound intellects teaches the reverse. Truth has to be fought for every step of the way, almost everything else dear to our hearts, on which our love and our trust in life depend, has had to be sacrificed to it. Greatness of soul is needed for it: the service of truth is the hardest service.”
Nietzsche’s words resonated in my head as I experienced that feeling that soothes (if only in a small way) the soul. That is, the feeling that someone else has gone through what I am going through. Nietzsche saw, as I now see, the price at which truth is acquired. Though I have only begun to glimpse the beauty of the truth. The beauty of truth? Its beauty lies not in pleasure, it lies only within itself. Truth is beautiful because it is truth, not because it gives us hope or happiness.
And yet, is the truth so ugly that it only be called beautiful by its own nature? Must pain always accompany truth? Is a life of truth so devoid of hope and happiness? If not, why then is it the common response? Could it be the convictions of yesterday writhing in the depths of where they were formed; straining to regain the control they have lost? Like I said, separation can be painful.
Labels:
Philosophy,
Religion
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