I’ve been thinking, lately, about what it might mean to realize an extended period of calm, peacefulness and tranquility; halcyon days of pleasant meanderings through a benevolent natural world and happy encounters with grounded, enlightened people. It seems a bit of a fantasy requiring, in this day and age of political unrest and perpetual world-wide tragedy, a sort of head-in-the-sand dismissal of reality.
Maybe I’m just allowing myself to be distracted, not seeing the whole forest, lost among the trees. I suppose I could strive to remain awake in the moment, not get overly obsessed with situations beyond my control, you know, realize the world around us is ever-changing. I, perhaps, need to reacquaint myself with a Nature in constant flux and modify my sense of propriety so as not to assume it should be for everyone, everywhere.
Can right mind, I wonder, see a reality in which all live happily ever after; if not, how about a centered life free of the sufferings of expectation?
I’ve been reading that in France in the mid-20th century various fringe groups instigated massive protests against the government, building barricades across streets in Paris and causing as much mayhem as they could muster, which was considerable, energy being particularly high when an appropriate evil is made tangible.
Although the demands of the anarchists weren’t well articulated it appears the rub essentially was about class struggles; a class-less communism seeming to be the desired end; freedom to be equals through re-distribution of resources. The result of all the chaos turned out to be a ruthless police crack-down and excessive prison sentences where abominable conditions led many inmates to suicide, which led to more protests and civil unrest.
It all seems too familiar: the tendency toward mayhem for mayhems sake, even all-out anarchy appears hidden beneath mankind’s benign exterior. Human nature seeks opposition; someone or something to cast as enemy, the cause of their difficulties, emotions rise, factions unite, shouting occurs, and all Hell breaks loose: another revolution of sorts happens.
The human psyche being what it is I sometimes wonder how periods of peace happen at all.
Apparently, in medieval times, the general consensus (among the few who thought about it), was that time was an illusion; the only reality , as they saw it, is now (or was now, I suppose, if one allows that these people lived in a past which isn’t any longer) which leads me, as I think about it, to assume it’s reasonable to find ‘now’ the only reality, since nothing has yet to come next.
Setting aside the manufactured ‘time’ we’ve come to accept which divides nature’s cycles into seconds, minutes and hours, ‘just now’ or ‘in a bit’ can be interpreted as ‘yesterday’ or ‘tomorrow’ or even ‘a year ago’ or a ‘year from now’ if the events considered (think galactic distances and the speed of light) warrant such interpretation.
Then there’s the psychological aspect. Sometimes I find time passing rapidly, you know, when I’m engaged in a particularly interesting enterprise and other times time seems to slither along at a snail’s pace when, for instance, I’m a captive audience, trapped before an expounding orator which may have me thinking about what ‘eternity is now’ really means.
Anyway, this all has me thinking I needn’t care so much about late or early anymore.
I’ve been reading a quite in-depth account of how, throughout history, two particular strains of thought have been instrumental in quidding our understanding of the world around us.
Platonic thinking attributes essential truth to an eternal reality in relation to which our world is but a temporary, fleeting imperfection. The ultimate answers we seek, according to this philosophy, will be realized in contemplation of the eternal ideal forms of true reality.
On the other hand, Aristotelian thought is, that to know, to gain knowledge of the world in which we live requires sensory observation. Experiencing first hand, gathering information and applying inductive logic to what we see around us will unravel the mysteries of this life.
The thinking is, I guess, that pretty much all our philosophical tendencies will fall into one of these two modes. The Plutonic tending toward (or rationalizing) religious engagement with an heavenly realm, while the Aristotelian thinker gravitates toward science with its logical processes and empirical observations.
On a personal level it seems to me both perspectives can be embraced to some degree without contradiction. In fact remaining open to all possibilities would appear a smoother road to travel and with better scenery along the way.
So, I’ve been reading that in order to stay grounded in sound philosophical thought one needs to know what one believes and why one believes it. When I think about this, I can come up fairly quickly with the ‘what’ but the ‘why’ is often a bit elusive.
Take religion for instance; pretty hard to think about it outside the intuitive; no hard facts to be had and all; an inclination to believe in the existence of a heavenly realm is elusive enough to require the support of like-minds and require a pretty constant reinforcement. Those who deny the possibilities of such a pietistic realm, relying as they do on firm belief in science will rationalize their stance through a logical progression of empirical observations, but will never-the-less find the issue nebulous enough that they too will seek support of like-minded individuals. In either case the ‘why’, when offered will be subject to doubt if not the wrath of unbelievers.
There are those, I know, on both sides of the aisle who trust most implicitly their intuitions; are able to manipulate their ’whys’ beyond logic and shrug off the label of narrow-minded, hard-headed non-thinker that will certainly be leveled against them. Given the necessary support such folks may be able to sustain their invented fantasy land right up until the end times.
As for me, I will continue to seek my ‘whys’ and flex my ‘whats’ as necessary. I can think of no other reasonable way to proceed.
The romantic inclination to solitary communion with nature in order to find truth in beauty is beyond doubt appealing and resonates with anyone who enjoys an invigorating walk in the woods. The thoughtful Romantic realizes, of course, that nature has her darker side. The sun isn’t always shining, the birds sometimes are silent and Nature can on occasion lose her nurturing aspect, may in fact turn violent and even hostile, threatening the well-being of humankind. Nature’s beauty isn’t lost, though, in the violence of a hurricane or snow-storm but is re-characterized as sublime: an overwhelming and awesome power beyond human imagining.
It seems Nature’s sublimity is increasingly apparent these days, extreme weather events occurring with regularity. A thoughtful Romantic might wonder if perhaps there’s anger being leveled at a humanity exploiting her realm, encouraging us to take heed, to realize a necessary respect for the nurturing environment that sustains us. Well, being the timid Romantic I am, I’m doing my best to reduce my carbon footprint in the hope Mother Nature will see fit to allow my continuing existence.
I’ve been wondering how one comes to know who one is. I’m thinking that by the time most of us become adults we pretty much know our biases, preferences, how we will react in certain conceivable situations; at a particular moment in time, anyway. But it seems unlikely that that knowledge will remain constant as one ages. What we may value as adolescents certainly evolves over time and I suspect that who we are now may bare very little resemblance to who we were then and is likely to be an entirely different person in the future.
So we become, right? As long as we’re cogent and interacting with others our experiences will change us. We will, likely, engage as much as possible in comfortable settings with people of like mind because we seek the safety of familiarity. Even so we’ll find ourselves outside our comfort zone at times which will require a ‘letting go’, an inevitable loss of self-recognition. And of course some of us are risk takers pursuing new experiences that will inevitably expand and distort our sense of self.
But, either way, we won’t stay the same, and knowing who one is at any point in time should, I guess, involve fairly constant re-evaluation. I suppose as one ages the pace of change slows down a bit, settling into routines and all, but I’m looking forward nevertheless to experiencing the future me, hoping the individual I become will demonstrate a stronger sense of compassion and wisdom.
I’ve been wondering, lately, what exactly it means to have ‘power’, beyond, of course, the physical impetus to get up in the morning and go about one’s daily activities. There appears to be a sort of psychological power associated with social relationships. I’ve been surprised on occasion while in a group of relative strangers to have my opinions or comments viewed as credible whether or not they reflect the perspectives of the listeners.
There must be some connection between credibility and allotted power: does the credibility come from speaking the truth or from the manner in which one’s opinions are delivered: loud and forceful as opposed to quiet and thoughtful. How much of one’s inherent ‘power’, I wonder, is the result of physical presence: age, grooming or one’s wardrobe? I do find, while running errands while fairly disheveled, unwashed and in work clothes that I’m sometimes looked at askance. It may be my imagination but young women in particular seem to turn away in perceptible disgust sometimes. I would suspect my power cred is pretty low in such circumstances.
I would like to think that conveying truths and avoiding unverifiable and suspect premises is where the power cred lies but I suspect that, in most instances, it probably has more to do with individual likability.
I’ve been reading a commentary lauding the virtues of free-market Capitalism. The author champions the Ayn Randian conception of unrestrained capitalistic growth, giving free-rein to anyone with the wits and ambition to produce without regulative restriction, capital goods and services, which, he tells us, means more quality products produced through competition which in the end, we are assured, will raise everyone’s quality of life. A bit of social engineering through subtle advertising will convince us all to buy more, seek out the wondrous new products we had no idea even existed just yesterday.
My skeptical nature leads me to see a problem with such a rosy picture. For just one thing, these new and wonderful life-enhancing, time-saving products will (and, of course, have already) require(d) us consumers to put in extra time at work and, I suspect we will, before long,( in the immortal words of the great Tennessee Ernie Ford), ‘owe our soul(s) to the company store’.
More for you, more for me may sound good but uncontrolled exploitation of the earth’s resources will result in scarcity which will put the ‘good life’ out of the reach of increasing numbers of working poor. Without viable consumers, producing industries will fail and before long, just a matter of time, we will experience the collapse of civilization as we know it. A new Dark Age will ensue; survivors will find new meanings and values in existence and begin again to build family and community.
Well, maybe I’m being a bit extreme in my imaginings; but maybe not.
I suppose there must be an inclination for the thoughtful mind to balance opposites. During the 18th century the scientistic logic of the Enlightenment generated the philosophical counterpoint of Romanticism, a view of nature as transcendent ‘beauty as truth, truth beauty’. The thinking was, I guess, that Nature was the source of all knowledge, the way to deep understanding, so communing with nature, engaging in contemplation of the natural world was the way one might proceed to fully find the secrets our world holds.
I wonder if the adolescent ideas of ‘romance’ get in the way sometimes of an understanding of the significance of this early philosophy. Certainly the aspects of the romantic displayed in media dramatics: maudlin emotionalism, heroic fantasy and the like are a far cry from the philosophical significance of 18th century Romanticism.
I think that the attention to our nurturing natural world that the Romantics found so significant mustn’t be forgotten. The contemplative mind will embrace those ideas and work to philosophically assimilate them. Hopefully the true’ Romantic spirit’ won’t be lost amidst the superficiality of our popular culture.