Thank you for visiting my blog! As I wrote in the “About Me,” I am not a professional philosopher or critic. I would say that I definitely have a passion for philosophy, especially, and I read a lot–and I like the idea of being able to share some of my thoughts and reflections on what I’m reading or on whatever other topic that I may find interesting. I majored in Philosophy and English at The University of Texas at Austin, and I currently work in Austin at a non-profit clinic where I coordinate a pediatric integrated behavioral health program. Please do feel free to comment on any of my posts or reach out to me with comments, suggestions, questions etc. Thanks again! I hope that at least some of what I write here will be enlightening.

the essential unity of life and being

So this post has to do with the essential “one-ness” of life and being. By “essential” I mean the entities (life and being) couldn’t exist without it–the “whatever it is” that makes it, it. Birth is essential to life, being that all life began in a kind of “birth,” of some kind. And “birth” is the name for a a process–which is one continual process, of one entity becoming two. There is an essential unity there, between each, in that the “younger” one “owes” the “older” for its life and its being. And all “owe” “God.”

Now if viewed from the “God-perspective” (whether or not “he”/”it exists”), outside of space and time, we see this: an “older” or “mature” lifeform experiencing or undergoing the processes of either sexual or asexual reproduction, which involves either growth and division of some sort, or a part of the lifeform fusing with the part of another lifeform. A “new” lifeform then develops out of this process. So in all strictness, the new lifeform is a continuation of or an evolution of the “parent” lifeform(s). So there is one continuous life process–one “life.” And if we look at the material with which lifeforms are made–well it consists of either parts or remnants of other lifeforms or bits of non-life forms (nutrients, air, water, sunlight (via photosynthesis) or whatever). So the “boundaries” between lifeforms and between life and non-life are “vague”/”blurry.” It is only due to time (or to our *perception* of time) that we fail to see this. Oh and all of our thoughts and behaviors are “conditioned” via culture. So there is another area where the “boundaries” are “blurry.” That is, our “mental life” is “linked” to the “mental life” of others, both living and dead. Anyhow, I think that the “mystical experience” involves becoming aware of this essential unity or co-dependence of all life and, indeed, of all being–of all that exists in whatever “direction” in space and time. You’re “seeing things” from the “eternal” or “God-perspective.” Now I think that what *follows* from that “experience” depends on various things–upon how that person who has it interprets it.

I think that one thing that could *follow from* having had the “mystical experience” is this: a sense or a feeling of responsibility of or for the “whole.” You identify yourself with it, considering your truest “self” as being identical to the “whole.” You “see yourself” in others, and this may (or may not–since I think it can depend on your personal character, which influences how you interpret the “experience” and what you do because of it, for whatever reason) inspire compassion and love, for all.

That is, you may (or may not!) naturally “love your ‘neighbor’ *as yourself*.”

Questions on the nature of “the present”

Is there anything special about “the present”? That is, besides the fact that each of us happens to be there? How do we define “the present” anyway? Is there some definite period of time that we can appropriately refer to, using this term? If so, how long is that period? 10 minutes? 5 minutes? 1 minute? 1 second? A half second? Is this present supposed to be “more real” than “the past” and/or “the future”? Or is it that the past was once real but isn’t anymore? And that the future is merely what can or will become real? If the present is more real, how or why is that so?

To me, it seems that if we step back and try to view things as clearly and objectively as possible it becomes evident that there is nothing at all about the present that makes it more real than the past or the future. I mean, sure, we are alive, as well as conscious—but in, say, 1953, I see the same exact thing; they are also alive and conscious. As far as I can tell, all the laws of nature and whatever fundamental rules of reality that are in play here exist there as well. I think that despite this, however, many of us will still insist that no, there is something more real or somehow special about “right now.” Is there? What argument can you put forward?

Consider this: if I am standing on a dock and a ship is somewhere out at sea in front of me out of my view, does that ship still exist despite its spatial separation from me? I think most of us would say that it does. That is, we would probably agree that there’s nothing about where I am physically that would make something that is not near me less real. Yet it seems to me that we make this sort of assumption when it comes to time. That is, let’s say that I’m on the dock on Monday and the ship arrives on Tuesday—does the event, the ship arriving at the dock, not exist simply because it is separated from me by a day? Why? What is the difference between Monday and Tuesday, besides the fact that I am personally there on Monday? Are things only real if we, personally, have an experience or interaction with them?

A few thoughts on Taoism, for a friend

Recently, a friend of mine has expressed interest in learning more about Taoism, which is definitely my favorite religion. I mean the “philosophical Taoism” of Lao Tzu and Chuang Tzu, as opposed to the Taoism known as “religious Taoism” which may involve rituals and spells and other supernatural elements. I do like to call the former a “religion,” however, since to me it seems to capture something that is common to each of the major world religions–that is, it is a way of transcending oneself in order to connect, somehow, with ultimate reality (whatever that is, the “Tao” or “God” or simply the universe/nature).

I wrote the following for my friend, intending it as just a few pointers that would, hopefully, help with some of the main ideas and avoid misunderstanding. This is just my interpretation, from what I have read/studied so far, and I am also drawing from my own experiences. It is also not systematic, so I flow organically from one topic to another. Hope you enjoy! And please do leave a comment, question or whatever else you would like, if you would like.

Without further ado, here it is:

Hey so here are a few pointers, if you ever get around to studying Taoism. It is simple but it can require some “thinking outside of the box,” as the expression goes.

Here’s one way to understand their view of language/conceptual thought: they view it as being a kind of “screen” between us and external reality. It’s like this: we view a table, for instance. You know, it has four legs and a top, maybe it’s made out of wood or whatever. Anyway, zoom in with a microscope and it starts to become a bit less clear what it is, exactly. Zoom in again and maybe you’re at the molecular level, and then again, and now you’re at atoms and just see a bunch of subatomic particles/fields (and actually at this point you wouldn’t be able to “see” at all, really). Or consider the wood with which the table was built: it was once part of a tree–or was once a tree, rather. If we “stepped back” and viewed it outside of the trappings of our particular time and place then we would see a seed being planted in soil and then we would see all of its development into a tree and, later, into a table. In the future, we might see the table decaying or maybe the wood will be used for different purposes. Anyway, is it accurate to say that this is a “table”? It may be more accurate–more reflective of the truth, of the reality–to say something like, “Right now, at this point in space/time, it is a “table”–which just means that it has been fashioned to serve a specific human purpose, according to a specifically human concept.”

Here’s another tip: in Taoism there is this ideal of equanimity–of regarding everything without interest/preference. First off, I think any Taoist would say, as Martin Buber does in I and Thou, that it is probably impossible for us to constantly live facing reality full on. That is, language/conceptual thought is a necessary part of life–and we will also naturally be drawn towards certain things and pushed away from others (so we will have interests/preferences, most of the time, and that’s OK). As far as language goes, think about what happens when we view a work of art, or listen to music: we may just enjoy a painting or a musical piece without having to name and label and explain each part. Instead, we may simply enjoy it for being what it is from start to finish. That is, you can experience reality without having to define it. It’s like the animals, who mostly live without language: they just live in the moment, more fully experiencing the world around them.

For us, it’s about trying to see reality without any of our usual categorizing getting in the way (the “screen” I mentioned before!). It’s about not judging, either. The ideal is to experience, for a moment, the complete, total reality around us. This state of equanimity is experientially similar to the Buddhist experience of Nirvana. It’s where everything becomes not only “equal,” but also “one.” That is, we start to see that we are like that table I spoke of earlier–we are also just one part of a larger process that is multidimensional and is spread out in time and space. The whole universe, in fact, is supposed to be such a process. This process, this whatever it is that truly exists, this ultimate reality beneath the appearances and beyond our usual mental processes–this is what they call the “Tao.” Functionally, it’s similar to the “God” concept in other religious traditions. Connecting to this ultimate reality is something that I consider to be essential in religion of whatever sort. That’s why I like the mystics so much. They aren’t into religious philosophizing/theology. For them all of this is either unintelligible at some point or it can simply go many ways. Again, there’s that admission of ignorance which I consider a very important part of understanding Taoism.

So the above state of equanimity implies, for one, that our moral concepts (and more particularly, moral judgments) can obstruct our view of reality. At first glance, it may appear as if Taoism would have us ignore or simply be OK with evil or with bad things happening in general. However, besides the fact that the dispassionate, non-preferential state of being described above is not meant to be lived all the time (so there is a time where moral judgments are absolutely necessary to make), there is also this idea of the “yin and yang,” which can help explain how a Taoist would explain their stance. The symbol for the yin yang shows a circle with two sides, a light and a dark, with a little of the dark in the light and a little of the light in the dark. It’s similar to the Star Wars notion of the “Force,” where there is a light side and a dark side (and in fact George Lucas borrowed heavily from Buddhism and Taoism, as he put together the mythology of Star Wars).

Anyway, the important notion here is duality and of opposites serving as two parts of a larger whole. It’s like “short” and “tall,” for example: without short there could be no tall, and without tall there could be no short. They think of “good” and “evil” in the same way. That is, without evil there could be no good, or without good there could be no evil. That is, we define “evil” in opposition to “good,” and vice versa. Now in practical terms all this means is that Taoists try to see the good in the bad, or the good in the evil. Again, this doesn’t mean they think evil is just to be accepted willy nilly. It just means that they think it is a necessary part of life–that in a way the entire universe is a giant yin yang.

So when something bad happens, the Taoist may step back into that state of equanimity, looking at things as wholly as possible, and find something good about it. Maybe, for example, there is a terrorist attack like what happened on 9/11. Definitely a bad thing! However, for a while at least it did seem to unify us and perhaps it also humbled us. Or maybe we can appreciate how courageous the firefighters were and that people would be willing to sacrifice themselves for their fellow human beings. That’s just an example. They also may view each of us as being individual yin yangs, where we have our own good sides/bad sides. It goes along well with that thing I explained before, how it’s about viewing human beings in all their reality, seeing them multidimensionally. So for example: I know a racist (also a Trump supporter!) who is also one of the kindest people I know. I don’t excuse the “bad side” of him–I do acknowledge it–but hey, I choose to focus on the other side. I think this attitude can help us forgive others who have wronged us or others. Again, not that we are OK with the bad–it’s just that we realize that in all reality there may be something good that can come of it, somehow, even if we can’t see it at the moment.

One last thing: you might see something in Taoism about “being thoughtless,” or something of that sort. It can look, at first, as if Taoists are supposed to just be going around not thinking all the time. For one, that is mostly referring to that state of being I keep bringing up, where you are simply experiencing reality without going through language/conceptual thought. Another thing is that Taoists place a big emphasis on naturalness and spontaneity. It’s actually really similar to improv, where the best improv happens precisely in those moments where we aren’t thinking. The human subconscious is always at work, noticing things and remembering things which may or may not reappear in consciousness. In fact, it’s plausible that most of what we are is subconscious–and that our conscious selves are like the tips of icebergs. In general, the less conscious thought we have to expend on a task, the better we are at it. Like with driving, where many of us can drive all the way home and then ask ourselves, “Huh, how did I get here?” We are letting the subconscious drive. So this emphasis on “being thoughtless” is more about trusting in the subconscious, which is ultimately a trust we’re placing in the “Tao”/”God.” It’s essentially faith, where you “let go” and “let be.”

The Taoists wouldn’t say that all conscious thought should be eliminated. It’s just that they think we humans tend to overthink and force things, and that that creates a lot of our problems individually and as societies. The Taoists believe in “going with the flow,” which means doing whatever it is natural for you to do in a given situation, as much as possible–and in some cases, the natural thing to do may be to simply do nothing. That’s where the principle of “wu wei” comes in, where the “action” is precisely not acting–an “action-less action.” The Taoists actually consider humans to be animals, except that we have the blessing and curse (yin yang!) of a highly developed consciousness. They think that that’s a compliment–since animals have attributes we may want to emulate. So that’s why Winnie the Pooh is the ideal Taoist: he’s a talking animal, which is what they think we all are already!

Thoughts on the bus 1: thought experiments re language

I was on the bus this morning and had a couple thoughts re: the limits of language.

First set:

1) An evolutionary biologist could inform is that humans are actually animals. He could point to our similarities with the animals and show us bits of the evolutionary history and how slow and gradual it was, and how our categories break down at certain points (at what point do we say we became “human” in that history?).

2) Ask a microbiologist or chemist or neuroscientist what animals (including us) are. They may tell you that an animal is a huge, complex set of chemical processes. They can point to the cell, or the chemical make-up of the cell, or the way neurons seem to work etc.

3) Then ask a physicist what chemicals are. They may tell you chemicals are bonding clumps of atoms.

4) Ask a particle physicist what an atom is. He may tell you about protons and neutrons and electrons, as well as subatomic particles and entities such as quarks, quantum fields, spin, whatever else.

Now we can ask ourselves, which one of the above is right? Which one is real, or at least most real? The answer: none of them is right. Or, rather, each of them is right in its own context. What kind of context am I referring to? At least partly just the particular linguistic, cultural, and conceptual features of the case–that is, the social environment, how those various descriptions arise due to conventions which are tacitly agreed upon by those who use a given language (or, rather, discourse).

The truth is this: we don’t know what we are. At least we have a really hard time explaining ourselves to ourselves, and sometimes it’s also difficult to live with.

Our microscopes or telescopes and other tools can only go so far, either “down” to the bottom of what we are, or to the “top” (that is, what are we relative to the rest of the universe(s))? Our scientific language can sometimes catch a glimpse. And the slanguage of the heart can often connect us in ways that verbal language by itself never could, without that inner, subconscious emotional state, which is also a state of being (be-ing). Language is more than sounds or scribbles we make, or concepts we think; it’s how we present, how we open ourselves up to communication with others and with the world.

Our normal language is often hopelessly off the mark.

Second set (one more stringy thought and then I’m off):

1) Lets say an alien species is observing is. What do they see? Well, depends on how big they are, for one. Maybe they are microbe size, compared to us. So all they see are a bunch of cells in clumps moving around. They have no notion of there being anything beyond this level of description.

2) Lets say they are huge, either physically or intellectually and imaginatively. They wouldn’t see us at all or perhaps they would see us as we see ants, kind of small and industrious somewhat but still mysterious and maybe a little dumb, and their society as a kind of “ant hill.” Perhaps these aliens use telepathy or something and they think we are backwards for using sounds. Or they speak a purely mathematical language or something. I don’t know. You fill it in. Or maybe they consider the sounds nonsense and think the body language is the only thing that matters, in social interaction. They see our sounds as grunts or barks or meowing. Maybe they  just wouldn’t know any better? (And the thing is: some of the words we use are certainly meaningless–ask Hilary Clinton what honesty means to her.)

3) Lets say they can somehow communicate with us on our level. And they are trying to grasp the concepts of “human” vs “animal” vs “cells” etc. Maybe, from our descriptions, they mistake a car for an animal. We tell them that no, it isn’t one. We tell them it’s just a hunk of metal with wheels. They tell us they have similar “things” but that in their universe of discourse what we call “Cars” are thought of as having their own reality as fellow beings, as fellow “animals.” Maybe they evolved alongside car-like moving things and then, much later, the aliens realized that those animals are actually just self replicating machinery, put in motion by one of their own far in the their past. Anyway, they are open minded and they consider “life” just as a process that repeats itself, or whatever involving “reverse entropy” in some clumps of organized matter. So their universe is filled with life.

4) Lets say that the alien species comes from a planet like ours and they actually are like us and use verbal and written (and body) language. But let’s say they consider all their species as being “one” since they, (like us), require their environments, and their environments them. So many co dependencies, to even exist. They think in “We,” and don’t have words for “I” or “me.”

5) Lets say the alien species is actually humans in the future, time traveling somehow, maybe a bit evolved. Lets say that humanity became communist at some point and a part of their campaign was to eliminate individuality. That is, they started removing “I” and personal names etc, and maybe they were always connected somehow via their phones and internet (or the equivalency) and they vote on every decision they make, as one, by a random democratic vote. And they are always online because, let’s say, usually they are always in some kind of enhanced reality, where they implant something in your brain to make you hallucinate and see the world like you’re on acid or another powerful drug. It’s something that allows these future homo sapiens to be totally okay with the concept that because they are co dependent in a fundamental way they are actually one thing, or one person. We already say, “The Will of the People.” We do represent ourselves via some larger entity. These humans would be doing the same thing. Their language would describe the world in a vastly different way, most likely. It would be near incomprehensible to many of us.

Ok, off the mark enough for today. Peace ‘BE’ with you. 🙂