—

Discovering Philosophy: Maybe I’m Not Crazy After All

Abstract: I have thought of myself as a philosopher for quite some time, even though I had never taken the time to explore what that meant academically. This paper is intended to demonstrate some of what I have learned over the course of this class about philosophy and how these ideas are manifested in my personal life. It will also be a reflection on my own natural progression as a freelance philosopher and illustrate the universality of philosophical questioning.

—

One of the most burning questions philosophers face is regarding the existence of God. This age-old philosophical problem affects every thinking human being, and whether people decide to believe in a God or not believe is irrelevant. Philosophers like St. Anselm have suggested, since the question has been considered at all, therein lies one of the fundamental steps for proof that God does in fact exist. After all, denying the existence of God is a shining example of fallacious reasoning: post hoc ergo propter hoc (after this, therefore because of this). In having even considered the question, it raises the possibility that God does exist because, if God did not exist, the question would not be necessary. So saying that God does not exist is a philosophical absurdity. The djinni has already been released from the bottle, so to speak, and it is no different in my case. I was raised in a Christian household, and in my early childhood I simply accepted the information I was presented as true. However, challenging life circumstances and other influences gradually led me to begin questioning the reality of what I had been taught. Around the age of twelve or so, I began to wonder whether the religion I knew was in fact the only “true” one, and I began to explore the teachings of other religions. Perhaps not coincidentally, I was initially drawn to ideas of nature-centric religions like Celtic druidism, Wicca, and Native American beliefs – religions that focus on the “elements” of earth, fire, air, water, and spirit or soul; much like the earliest philosophers worked to understand reality and existence in terms of the natural world. At some point, those ideas fell short of answering my questions as well, and that led me down a more “rational” path of ideas similar to secular humanism, agnosticism and even atheism. There was a time I thought, like Bertrand Russell, that the universe must simply be infinite and human life just a coincidence of probability, and thus there could not logically be a God. Yet, these methods of rationalizing the mystery and grandeur of the world did not fulfill what burns inside me either. The best way I know to describe what was lacking is, as an innate feeling or sense that there must surely be something greater; much like St. Thomas Aquinas and René Descartes described in their philosophical writings. Today, I still do not have what I consider valid answers to my questions about God, though I have not stopped searching for answers.

During the course of my experiences regarding religion and the existence of God, I have developed more questions than answers. Not only have I wondered whether God exists, but I have also wondered, assuming God does exist, what form would God take and how would that form relate to my own existence. I have also wondered whether this physical world is even real, or if it could be just a dream state or something akin to a “brain in a vat” – that I am existing within a grand experiment of some external being. Like Descartes, I came organically to a dualistic conclusion about this problem; that my mind (or spirit, or soul) is a separate entity from my physical body. While there is evidence of a connection between the mind and body, by natural evidences of individuality et al and modern evidence such as brain scans and the like, no one has ever been able to touch or see a “mind.” The only real proof that the mind even exists is also like Descartes suggested; I know it exists because I experience it – cogito ergo sum (I think, therefore I am). However, Descartes did not teach these things to me; they are conclusions of mystery that arose naturally from experience and metaphysical questioning, well before I ever took to study philosophy academically.

Most recently, I have come to the realization that philosophical questions only beget more philosophical questions. For all my pondering and wondering, I have wound up with an ever-increasing number of questions rather than solid answers. Like Socrates, I am learning that I know nothing. Even that which I think I “know” to be “true” is ultimately a priori, meaning it is an assumption I have made; because what I think to be true has simply not been proven wrong yet. Even so, I am growing more comfortable in the awareness that the ultimate answer to the ultimate questions of life, the universe, and everything is: “I don’t know.” In fact, it is somewhat liberating in the sense that I am understanding no one else ultimately knows either. We are all on this ride together, and that brings about an unusually comforting sense of self and community that is missing for many people.

While my current state of awareness has diminished what previously was a high sense of urgency to understand and identify truths about philosophical things, it has not stopped me from continuing to question. Now, I feel I am in a position to move forward with questioning in a less frantic way; to take the time to look closer at the world and take time to enjoy the experience more fully. These days, I tend to take a more empirical approach to philosophical problems of existence. Like David Hume suggested, I can no more prove that God exists, or that I exist, than I can prove that my mind exists or your mind exists. But, just because skepticism dictates I cannot philosophically prove any matters of existence, the empirical reality of my existence and experience constantly confront me – so I cannot rationally deny it. As John Locke suggested, though it may be skeptically impossible to prove the existence of something, I cannot disprove its existence either, especially when confronted with a thing’s physical form. I cannot rationally deny that the keyboard I am typing on exists because it has features that Locke described as “primary.” For example, I may not be able to prove with certainty that the keyboard is black with white lettering or that the keys make noise as I tap them, but the keyboard itself has an undeniable form because it takes up physical space and it therefore necessarily exists. Philosophically, I cannot prove the keyboard’s existence to another by way of reason, but anyone could verify for his or herself that it takes up space. In this same way, all of what we experience as being part of existence is at least partially validated because we can compare experiences and come to agreement on existence because of shared experiences.

So the reality of existence is largely dependent on and defined by shared experience. Human beings must cooperatively interact (or “fellowship”) with one another to verify and validate our experiences, in order for the experience of existence to make rational sense. Because this is the case, I have a duty to myself and others to be honest and truthful about my personal experiences and philosophical understanding. Without engaging in this sort of honest integrity, I rob others of the opportunity to develop their own greatest potential understanding from their experiences, which in turn gives them an opportunity to “pay it forward” and do the same for others. Yet I have to be alert enough to this fact to realize that being purely altruistic is impractical. While pure altruism by all is a rationally noble goal and would create a Utopian sort of reality, it is impractical because not everyone does in fact understand or engage in the values of pure altruism. There are unenlightened people who tend toward pure selfishness, or at the very least tip the scales of balance toward themselves in a selfish way. Because this is a reality, I have to learn to adjust my own balance in such a way that I promote myself to an extent that I can provide maximum benefit to and mutual welfare with others. To illustrate, I may wish to help the homeless, but if I give all my own resources to others and have nothing left for myself to survive, then I have wasted my opportunity to do the greatest good for the most people. The idea of ethical egoism reminds me that I serve a greater purpose in keeping most of my possessions so I can continue going to school to secure a job with a consistent salary. Doing so enables me with an opportunity to give charitably – perhaps on a lesser scale at any given moment, but on a more long term and consistent basis. Being in a position to give charitably over the long term would arguably do more good for more people, and thus my self-promoting interest, in not giving away all my possessions to one or a few, winds up an even more charitable act overall. Likewise, giving too altruistically of my own possessions to a single individual may end up robbing that person of an incentive to do for himself and make himself successful and someday continue the process of charity. There is a level of rational self interest and self-promotion that ultimately leads to the greatest benefit, and that level is best balanced each day in each moment with the best intentions of good will, which Immanuel Kant described as the only real source of “good.”

These ideas are not new to me. They are concepts I have developed personally over time, through my own personal reflection and contemplation about my experiences of existence and interactions with and influences from other people; including religion. Some of my experiences have been bad; having dealt with situations that turned out negative in spite of people trying to do good, and with some people who exhibit unsustainable moral character. I have engaged in hedonistic activities that felt good at the time, but left me eventually with an emptiness and understanding that such activity is unsustainable. Then again, many of my experiences have been good. In spite of having gone through many bad experiences, there have been enough positive people and situations to confront my life that I have come again to the conclusion that there must be a God. Those experiences and people are living examples of the innate, burning feeling that there has to be something “out there” and perhaps even “in here” that is greater than what I currently understand, philosophically or otherwise.

I have come full circle on the idea of God. I still do not know for sure who or what God is. However, I was born into a concept of God as real, questioned that reality, challenged that reality, rejected that reality, and come back to realize that it must be real. God is, and was, and always will be. The djinni cannot be put back in the bottle. Religions may come and go and change and grow, but the very idea of the existence of God is enough to leave the question open for investigation. From this academic study, I now realize that philosophy has existed, fueling and challenging religion, science and society all this time. It is affirming to know I am not crazy; these thoughts and questions I have had about life and reality are not unique to me. They are universal among men and women throughout the ages who have actively pursued greater understanding of this thing called life. This class has been my first academic exposure to the study of “the love of wisdom,” and it may even be my last academic encounter with it. However, one thing is certain, if I can be certain of anything. My own adventures in philosophy will likely never be completed.

Jesus healed the sick. He fed the hungry. He gave to the poor. He cared as best he could with the resources he had for any man, woman, or child who crossed his path. He counseled his friends and enemies alike. He never flaunted or tried to make himself out to be any more important than he really was. He had zero patience for pretentious religiosity or gaudy secularism. He lived off the land and the reciprocal generosity of those his methods were given an opportunity to reach. He lifted up those who were weak and distressed, and knocked down those who were too high on their horses. He rose from a pitiful, unsanitary, deplorable birth to live in the hearts and minds of people for more than two millenniums. He studied society, and people, and nature and offered his own insight regarding what was good and useful, and what was useless and unnecessary. He pointed out evil and highlighted the truth in every word he spoke. He walked the walk; only accepting charity from one man, woman, or child at a time, and never relied on the government to fulfill his needs.

Is it a true story? I don’t know any better than any man, woman, or child. What I can say is this… I like what I see in his story. It makes sense in my reasoning to follow in those footsteps.

Let there be Light.

Religions say I am to fear the notion of God, to avoid its wrath. I should fear the eternal consequences of my everyday actions, as the quick and ready actions I make in life will follow me beyond death. This may very well be true. No one has come back to advise us in the contrary, so we can only perform due diligence, in that regard.

Even so, the very nature of the human psyche drives us to believe; in some things true, and some things not, to suit our own situations. So, we are left in a quandary of belief. In our modern rationale of tolerance, we grudgingly supine that every belief and culture has merit, insofar as it does not breach our laws. So, who is to define truth or untruth, in relation to our beliefs? Of course, scientists are hurried to assert their craft as the ultimate system of answers, as are religious figures — but which of them is to be believed upon to such an extent that we construct our nominal beliefs?

Perhaps it is prudent to accept a mixture of the two, as it is increasingly obvious that neither field has any ultimate answer; only hard-fought suggestions.

Taking such a stance, and hoping to gain relevant insight to this “higher power,” it again becomes necessary to both quantify and qualify that which we should revere as both feared and understood — what should be “sacred?” If we acknowledge that neither science nor religion has purview of ultimate truth, then I am led back to the beginning. Whom shall I fear?

In reality, I too often encounter gifts and circumstances beyond reason. In fact, I propose we all have. We all have faced situations wherein our own logic and resources fall short, yet, still, we come through on the other side of trial and tribulation with favorable results. A skeptic gambler could chalk it up to chance. Optimists quite often attribute such to divine providence. Since ’tis the season, I wonder… is Santa to blame? Is there a secretive entity “out there, somewhere,” watching me and keeping tabs on my behavior? Me? I’m not taking chances. I may not make the “good” list… after all, I don’t always give my all, give all I have, etc. On the other hand, I certainly don’t engage in activities that would put me on a “bad” list. I obey the laws of the land, and help people often.

So… do I make the cut? Is Santa quietly nodding in approval, or shaking his head in disbelief as I type this? I just don’t know, but I do know; Santa comes every year, and he’s on the way now. In less than two weeks, I will either make a silent harvest among the chorus of the universe or… I may find a lump of coal as my material reward. Then, I will rationalize… I have either done less or more than required. Perhaps I have done just enough to break even in the mystery game.

No matter, I think the real point is that I am reminded… actions have consequences. Even more important is that I perpetuate this reality; whether I dress in red and grow a white beard, or if I stand at a lectern and disseminate holiness. That which I sow, so shall I reap — and so shall you, ultimately.

So, Santa, if you’re reading this, and you have beef with this… bring it on! I have a million questions for you, and I will most certainly treat you to milk and cookies, because we’re going to be a while.

The illness that took him was a surprise to the family: an aggressive cancer that started in his lung and spread to his brain. If he knew he was sick, he never let on. He just kept pressing on, the way he always did. Just the week before, he was typically out in the hot Florida sun working on an air conditioner, as was his life-long profession — even though he had “retired” many years earlier. Without warning, he fell from sitting at the kitchen table, in a massive seizure.

Over the next four weeks, he recovered from being completely unresponsive to being alert but completely immobile on his left side. As he always did, he pressed on, even in Hospice care — asking each day, when they were going to let him go home. He joked with the nurses, as he wrestled through the symptoms of stroke — threatening to bust out the window and escape, hospital gown and all. Each day, he fought, gaining mobility and coordination slowly and gradually in his left side: to the point, he could look at his watch and hold his own coffee. When long-time friends came by to see him, he would confidently say, “Getting better all the time!”

By the end of the third week, he had improved so much, he was nearly able to walk on his own again. The astounded Hospice and medical staff had arranged for a physical therapist after the weekend, and were discussing the possibility of sending him home! Then, over the course of a Sunday, he faded into unresponsiveness. Unable to take food or water, he didn’t recover this time, and passed away peacefully, six days later, with his family by his side.

At the viewing, I recognized the reason I’ve never been to one. For me, the reason I don’t want to be there isn’t about the sadness of loss. It isn’t that I don’t want to be supportive of a grieving family. It isn’t that I am unnerved by the presence of a lifeless body. It’s the fact that the person I’ve known and loved, is no longer “in there.” They’ve taken the journey, and made the transition. Their “spirit” has reunited with the “higher power,” in the form from which it came. It leaves me feeling awkward and uncomfortable, when the spirit of a person is in the air all around me, yet, here I am honoring the presence of a shell. To my mind, it seems almost a disrespectful event, even though I fully understand the closure and comfort it provides many people.

My mind necessarily wanders to the course of the life force, this “higher power,” in all of us, and reinforces my innate belief that we are all connected infinitely and ethereally, even as we traverse this physical world as masses of matter. The spark of life, breathed into the human being, begins with two living cells being united — breaching the cosmos on an infinitely small level, to pull a small sparkle of the “higher power” into an ultimately physical state. That new, living cell multiplies and grows, bringing along with it the soul of a person, as those cells begin to absorb and feed off the material world around them. Those cells grow into a physical being that can sense, feel, and love — the higher power, looking in on itself — the living, breathing metaphor of the stories of Adam and Eve, Jesus, and more.

From the ashes and dust of all matter, mineral, and metal, the biological process absorbs the energies of the material world — from conception, until death, when the material energy that was absorbed is returned to the Earth, to be reabsorbed and decomposed — back into ashes and dust. Along that journey, a glimmer of what is True in the universe takes a ride in a physical body — to experience joy, pain, and everything in between — the only assignment, to take snapshots of the enormously beautiful and marvelously complex.

It is this kind of understanding of life that distresses me — when I worry over money, religion, or politics. Those things don’t ultimately matter, though humankind has built up a culture that forces people to care about those kinds of things, just in order to survive. How destitute we really are, when we live our lives chasing wealth. How misguided we are, when we look to religion for rituals. How foolish we are, when we look to other people to create order.

These kinds of observations about life can only be forged from the fires of many years’ experience. This valuable insight is from Walter Breuning: a man who has lived longer than anyone else currently living on this ball of mud out in the midst of the Milky Way galaxy.

Great Falls, Montana, USA — September 21, 2009

Life begins each morning, whether we have succeeded or failed or just muddled along. Life is a school to learn, not to unlearn.

Life is the creation by God, and if you would know God, be not a solver of riddles. Look about you and you shall see Him playing with your children. Look into the air and you shall see him walking in the clouds, out-stretching his arms in the lightning, and descending in rain. You shall see him smiling in flowers, then rising and waving his hands in trees.

Life is a great teacher of truth. What is truth to one is not truth to another. What is true in one country may be false in another.

Life is short but the influences of what we do or say is immortal. There needs to be much more of the spirit of fellowship among us and more forgiveness. The power of gentleness is little seen in the world.

Remember that life’s length is not measured by its hours and days, but by that which we have done therein. A useless life is short if it lasts a century.

There are greater and better things in all if we would find them out. There will always be in this world — wrongs. No wrong is really successful.

The day will come when light and truth and the just and the good shall be victorious and wrong as evil will be no more forever.

Life itself teaches us to best prepare for that future which we hope for and for that journey to that land unknown, not made by hands.

Everything just is beautiful; everything beautiful ought to be just.

The mystery of the world remains unknown. Our maker alone is the key which unlocks all the mysteries of the universe.

The world is neither a prison nor a palace of ease, but rather for instruction and discipline.

This world has been good to all of us.

– Ill. Walter Breuning, 33°

Reprinted with permission. Thanks to Brent Morris, managing editor of the Scottish Rite Journal®, for permission to print this excerpt. Read the full article here.

Enter psychology: the science of dissecting human consciousness in an effort to understand the mechanisms behind things like emotion, intuition, faith, hope, love, etc. Back in the day, religion held the reins in these areas, providing explanations about and direction regarding social mores at the core of human behavior: i.e., good and evil. In modern cultures, we tend to look toward psychologists to understand the inner workings that drive people to do what they do, and let our religion stand as simply a personal choice for emotional and social support.

Psychology has, in effect, taken the place of religion for answering the questions of everyday life: coping with grief, conflict resolution, crime and punishment, war and peace. While many still look to religion for philosophical principles, the growing trend of turning to science for life-support through things like medicine, education and social policy is apparent and bucks the trend of the last several millenniums.

No longer do we adhere to “spare the rod and spoil the child,” but rather criminalize the rod and stick junior in “time out.” Gone are the days of swift justice: now, the “justice system” makes every effort to rationalize, minimize or excuse gross misconduct. We train ourselves and others to marginalize Personal Convictions in favor of Political Correctness. We like to believe our New World, enlightened thinking is an advancement in the course of evolution and not just simple brainwashing and reconditioning by this New World “religion.”

Psychology, in effect, is not a new science, but the merging and meshing of science and religion.

You can easily find the details of this case elsewhere so I won’t echo them here. However, while I have long had the suspicion Scientology is just a big money-laundering scam hiding behind a veil of religion (which this conviction in France tends to support), I see a deeper and even more serious scenario developing. It has to do with the cognitive way in which we human beings associate ourselves with religion and spiritual practices.

If a group wants to form an investment club and call it a religion, let them. I don’t care. Why should I? It doesn’t affect me, because I’m not buying in. If some group wants to gather together and worship the spirits of trees… again, who cares? More power to them. In “illuminated” societies, that same freedom is granted to people who want to take a serious endeavor into an understanding of this “Order amid Chaos” we call life, and God, and Love — so you take the good with the bad, and I’ll leave making the public distinction between “good” and “bad” to someone else.

From an even wider perspective, the very notion that religious and spiritual beliefs can be summarily canned into different forms and flavors, like products on a store shelf from which we get to choose, leaves people in a psychological landscape human beings historically haven’t seen very often. In this landscape, nothing is sacred — at least not in the ways we’ve traditionally viewed the “sacred.” Compound this diminished sense of “ultimate value” with the immediacy of information in this digital age, and individuals start to take on new personas, void of a platform from which to place personal convictions, but are eager and willing to “lead.” Instead of leaning on sacred beliefs, people start basing their convictions on a “just because” or “it feels good” style of philosophy, and misery loves company.

Whole societies start to devolve from the ground up, from being passionate exemplars of their beliefs regarding things like morality, nobility, and purpose, into malleable, formative, complacent bodies ready to be directed toward and/or by the “next big thing.”

Some might argue that this is a good thing, liberating the mind from the oppression of tradition for tradition’s sake. However, if this is happening, and it is a good thing, I would ask… how does such a liberation of the mind truly make individuals more “free,” when it’s human nature to file into organized tribes? There’s an old saying, “Too many chiefs: not enough Indians.”

While I am personally somewhere between crap, design, and desire, I think this kind of thought process puts “average” people in a dangerous position of association, completely out of touch with the purpose of religion in the first place. Let me explain:

Unless a person lives in a culture absolutely free of religious influences, from the time a person is born until the time they die, there is a sort of ingrained stigmata left to the individual to sort out — one that sets the “modern” human apart from the animal. The “modern” stigmata of religion in general is, in large part, an unsaid obligation of individuals to adopt the wounds of their own particular group, based on any number of transgressions communally understood to have been inflicted, is currently being inflicted, or might at some point be inflicted, on the group. Regardless of the particulars, the obligatory wounds felt by any group, whether environmentally or genetically, result in a series of associations within the individuals within said group, based summarily in the group consensus.

To be put bluntly, racism is the offspring of individuals within groups who feel biased against racially; socialism is the offspring of individuals within groups who feel biased against socially; capitalism is the offspring of individuals within groups who feel biased against capitally; etc, etc, etc.

What does that have to do with “association?”

Primarily, people who believe in and embrace the aspirations of ideas regarding a higher power tend to be trusting, well-intentioned, “average” human beings: content to mull about their own particular circumstances, in the understanding that life’s events are, hopefully and by some “greater” design, not just some big, Cosmic joke. Because of this belief that All is not just some big Joke, people have a tendency to try to understand things mathematically.

If I do “X,” it should result in “Y,” which will ultimately cause “Z” to occur.

For example: “If I piss on the front lawn, it might offend my neighbors, and I might very well be arrested!” While this example is logical, this is the very kind of association that becomes dangerous in terms of spirituality or religion. There are some who are convinced: “If I detonate a bomb on my person in a place crowded with people I disagree with, I will kill a number of them, and it might please my God.” Similarly, some people believe: “If I pray real hard, my God will hear my petition, and grant my request.”

People become deluded in this equation of intent-cause-effect, when it comes to religion and spirituality.

I have myself become deluded in many ways, often wondering, “If I’m doing what I believe is right, and what I do does not conflict with what I believe, why do I not see what I believe to be a successful result?” When it’s all boiled down, this is the ultimate quandary of us all. In seeking an explanation for this particular quandary of intent-cause-effect, we are often shocked and disappointed as to the lack of an answer. Such lack of an acceptable answer leads us down paths of seeking alternate justice, from whatever source we feel we can stir up: politics, family, and especially religion.

We “modern” human beings are slowly killing ourselves with the belief that our beliefs (or lack thereof) are going to save us. Maybe it’s all “hogwash,” but I addressed that last time.

The average person folds under the pressure of a myriad sources of input, and we see an increase in claims of children, and even adults, who “suffer” from “attention deficit disorder.” It seems the price of digitizing the globe comes at the cost of paying attention.

It really makes no difference what area we’re talking about — whether topics like spirituality and religion, or government and finance. Information overload is causing human beings to become devoid of conviction, lacking in motivation, and act with a propensity toward the obscure. The result of this disparity of position and purpose is a society with little ability to organize or prosper.

Do you think this is true? If so, is it by design or just happenstance?