Inspiration, creation, contemplation
A model for the philosophical life
I. The three branches
When we say that philosophy is a way of life, we must be clear on the specifics of this way of life. As philosophy is the love of wisdom, the philosophical life is a life ordered so as to love —and perhaps achieve—wisdom. Hence, philosophers have had their particular practices which they thought would help them attain this end. In our day, we ferociously read texts; we absorb the history of philosophy, so that its wisdom might be given new life in us. Nietzsche went on long and harsh walks, believing that good ideas need fresh air to be given birth. Descartes believed that truth was not to be found in the works of others, but in constructing it ourselves. Not that the truth is a ‘construct’, as some might like you to believe. But that each and everyone has to do the reasoning that leads up to truth for himself. Who is more in possession of the truths of mathematics; he who takes the truths of certain mathematical propositions on authority, or he who is able to construct their proofs himself? We only truly know a language, not when we have memorized all its vocabulary and rules of grammar, but when we are able to construct original sentences and ideas in this language. At other times, there were those who believed wisdom was to be found in silence, in contemplation. For is it not so, that all our reading and all our moving about, might just as well carry us away from the truth, instead of bringing us closer to it? The truth is what is, it is what is present at all times, immutable, we need only be silent to hear its call. This was the belief of the more contemplatively minded Platonists, of the mystics throughout the centuries, and it was the silent and unconscious motivation of phenomenology. Phenomenology, which Heidegger defines as the method of letting “that which shows itself be seen from itself in the very way in which it shows itself from itself.” (Martin Heidegger, Being and Time. Translated by John Macquarrie, and Edward Robinson. Oxford: Blackwell, 1962., §7) What is, is what shows itself. We need only get out of the way, and allow it to show itself. The method of phenomenology as laid out by Husserl is characterized by the method of reduction. We look at reality, and we refuse to listen to whatever ideas and feeling we might have about reality, so as to allow reality to show itself as it is, unclouded by the feelings and opinions we attribute to it. The method of reduction is not easy by any means, for we might decide to renounce our opinions, but still, they press on by the force of habit.
“It is not enough simply to have realized these things; I must take steps to keep myself mindful of them. For long-standing opinions keep returning, and, almost against my will, they take advantage of my credulity, as if it were bound over to them by long use and the claims of intimacy.”
(Descartes, Mediations. Translated by Donald A. Cress. Cambridge: Hackett, 1998. I, 62. )
As such, there is both the stillness, and there is the purification. We decide to let the truth show itself to us, but we soon notice that we stand in the way, because our bodies and minds are so tainted by opinions. And thus, we have to purge these opinions from ourselves.
Through these examples, the practices that philosophy calls its own can be separated in three domains. Inspiration, creation, and contemplation. I will elaborate on these further. If we take philosophy and all that it can mean serious, we would do well in having all of these practices be a part of our mode of life.
But why are there practices bound up with philosophy in the first place? If “all men by nature desire to know”, as Aristotle says, then why should we consciously practice anything, if nature brings us there anyway? (Aristotle, Metaphyics A. 980a25) It is because we are corrupted, and as much as our nature is to know, we do not know, because we do not live in accordance with our nature, but contrary to it. When the desire for wisdom is first awoken in the philosopher, he soon realizes that he does not posses it as of yet. He wants knowledge, but he realizes that he is not in its possession — he is ignorant. And thus, “they philosophized in order to escape from ignorance.” (Aristotle, Metaphysics A, 982b1)
Wisdom appears to the wise, but we realize that we are not yet wise. Wisdom appears to man by nature, but our natures are clouded, by opinions, and ways of life lived fleeing from nature. And thus, the philosopher realizes that he must train, he must transform himself through practice, so that the truth might shine on him naturally. It is in all a matter of becoming a person in whom Truth can find its abode. Before the philosopher achieves wisdom, he practices philosophy —the love of wisdom. It is a question of practicing this love, of practicing, so that we might keep this love alive.
II. Ascesis
This ‘practice’ has always been referred to as ascesis (askēsis), which literally means ‘training’. In the Greek context, the word was originally used to designate the physical training of athletes, and it is in this way that philosophical ascesis should be understood: a progressive discipline to allow us to become philosophers, those who love wisdom. It is philosophy’s diagnosis that most men do not love wisdom, they do not desire to live with truth, rather, they turn away from it. This is how they live their lives, fleeing from the truth. And it is from this critical diagnosis that a way out is sought, a way given by askēsis. In our world, the word ascesis is looked at with prejudice. We think of self-mortification, of a desire to chastise oneself, of a renouncement of all that breathes life. We imagine he who ruins his body and mind through only consuming the least nutritious of foods. We imagine a disease-ridden man, lacking vitality, seeking death. It is true, these practices are historically tied to those whom we designate as ascetics. But just as much, the negative image asceticism has is historically determined.
Those who have read Nietzsche might have this prejudice, and are filled with disgust when they hear the word ‘ascesis’. for Nietzsche frequently designates ascesis as the symptom of a hatred of life, of a life seeking to turn against itself. And this might well be true, but in Nietzschean fashion we ask: ‘what life’? What life is it that turns against life, and against what life does it turn? What is it that the ascetic seeks to turn away from, and what is it that he seeks to ascend to? The object of his training is a higher form of life, lived in truth, in wisdom. And what he turns against is the life of opinion, the life that does not love what is, but seeks to flee through all sorts of false opinions that protect it from the force of reality unclouded. In this light, who is it truly that turns against life? Is it the ascetic, or is it the common man? Is it not the ascetic who seeks life most of all? And is it not the common man, who in his mode of living, displays an incessant turning away from life.
We cannot imagine that Nietzsche did not know this, and we attribute his mistake to our own failure to read properly. In his ‘Doctrine of Awakening’, Julius Evola remarks concerning Nietzsche that
“when dealing with his “Superman” and when formulating the Wille zur Macht, did he not take into account various disciplines and forms of self-control that are clearly of an ascetic nature?”
(Julius Evola. Doctrine of Awakening. Translated by H.E. Musson. Vermont: Inner Traditions, 1996., 5)
And in Nietzsche’s own Antichrist we read:
“The most intelligent men, like the strongest, find their happiness where others would find only disaster: in the labyrinth, in being hard with themselves and with others, in effort; their delight is in self-mastery; in them asceticism becomes second nature, a necessity, an instinct.”
(Nietzsche, Antichrist, §57. Translated by H.L. Mencken. New York: Alfred Knopf, 1931.)
Asceticism is only the denial of a certain form of life, a life that has turned away from life. And the ascetic seeks to return. He trains, so that life might burn in him with all its force. In his book, Evola reminds us that the corresponding Sanskrit word for askēsis is ‘tapas’(तपस्) and signifies “to be hot” or “to glow”, containing the signification “of an intensive concentration, of glowing, almost of fire.”(Evola, Doctrine of awakening, 3). Far from being he who robs himself of vitality, the ascetic is he in whom life burns most fiercely. And it is indeed a life that mortifies, for it seeks to kill all those aspect of itself that are contrary to life and truth. Through training, the ascetic seeks to shed the many veils that cover up his true self.
III. The philosophical training
There are three aspects to such a philosophical training: Inspiration, creation and contemplation. And if you take this life seriously, most if not all of your days should contain all three. An imbalance in this system, or the absence of one of its parts, leads to a fractured and incomplete philosophy. And it is a great sadness, that for most people, philosophy is only concerned with one meagre aspect of one of these three. I will now go over all three.
Inspiration:
To think reality, one must be inspired to think. One must have a reality that forces one to think, and one must have the knowledge necessary to respond to this reality with ideas. But this is not an entirely passive affair, where the world questions us with certain phenomena, and we answer like robots. Although, in the uncultured man, this is precisely what happens. Like a life-less machine, he only reacts to his environment, repeating the opinions he has gotten from others, unaware of his own slavery. One must become free from this, to truly think. One must create a life for oneself that makes one inspired. It is perhaps the hardest thing in the world, to actually have a thought, instead of thoughts being given to one. Schopenhauer warns often that we must not become like those people who only read, but never think for themselves, the worst kind of all. But this does not mean that we shouldn’t read. Not because reading doesn’t corrupt you, of course it does, but because refraining from reading can corrupt you just as much. You are influenced either way, by the opinions of your society, your peers, your family, etc. And in this age of technology, by the opinions of the entire world. You can not escape this through simply deciding to think for yourself. So what do you do? You do as Nietzsche proposed:
“Put at least the skin of three centuries betwixt thyself and the present day!”
(Friedrich Nietzsche - The Gay Science, Book IV - §338).
Read, so that the influences of the greats burns stronger in you than the influence of your immediate surroundings. Read, so that you can compare. Read, so that you rise above what influences you. Read, so that you know what has been lost. Read, so that you know what is possible. Read, so that you see the origins of ideas. We have here struck upon the first aspect of training oneself to be inspired: the study of texts, the reading of philosophy. Under this heading we can perhaps, if you are interested, also put the study of languages, to be able to read great works in their original form, and the study of associated fields such as history or the sciences.
But don’t spend your days buried in books, for without adequate sunlight and movement, our thoughts get clogged up. And many nihilist philosophies have emerged, solely because the author refused to move his body. You must not underestimate the importance of this, especially in our day and age, when many live a sedentary life. Is it not funny, that in a time which needs it the most in all of history, philosophy pays the least attention to movement it ever has? Can it be a coincidence? Move the fluids in your body, exercise your muscles, and stretch your limbs, so that thoughts can move through your body. So that false opinions can be expelled as efficiently as possible, and so that great thoughts can be born in your brain as efficiently as possible. Lift weights, run, walk, train a martial art, climb, swim, you name it. It is a great shame that movement is no part of philosophical education in our time, and we dream of a University that disciplines its students not only in mind, but also in body. What is the meaning of free thought, when the body in which it lives cannot move freely?
“In moments of anxiety do not try to reason, for your reasoning will turn sharply against yourself; but rather try those lifts and bends of the arms which are taught in gymnastic-schools; the result will astonish you. Thus the master of philosophy refers you to the master of gymnastics.”
(Alain, Propos. §17.)
Associated with movement is the importance of other practices to strengthen the body and mind. We think here principally of diet and proper breathing. The specifics of these are not for me to discuss here, I might do so some other time.
One must also have a view of one’s time, the movements of life and thought that characterize and mould it. You must know this, so that you know how you fit into this world, and to what degree this world accords with what you know to be good. For unless you live in absolute seclusion, (which you do not if you are reading this), the world, your society, and all that is not you, has an influence on you. Better to be aware of it, in order to overcome it. It is my observation that very often those who claim to only be interested in ‘pure philosophy’ or ‘metaphysics’, having no regard for politics and cultural dynamics, are very often the most pure products of their environment. They live a life supposedly free from the concerns of the world, but because they do not care, they also just go along with it. Those people only interested in ‘metaphysics’, only to then get vaccinated to death. You must pay some attention to the world, for it is surely paying attention to you.
There is a healthy balance you must strike, you must be ‘in the world, but not of the world.’ In this time of global connection through technology, this balance is most probably found by observing the world much less than you deem necessary, it will shout its message at you anyway. And the hard task is not listening. But, stay aware.
Creation:
If you seek philosophy —love of wisdom—, you must not only read about how others love wisdom, but you must actively love wisdom yourself. You must express this love, to get to know it more closely. And you must share this love, to see how it holds up, and to aid others.
Write down your own thoughts, there is no better way to get to know what you actually think. It is my experience, and the experience of many others, that in writing, you discover knowledge that was in you, but you were not aware of, had you not chosen to put a pen to paper. So, write down your own thoughts. What you think ‘by yourself’, your thoughts about what you are reading, and how everything accords with each other. Regardless of whether you are intent on sharing anything, it is a most valuable habit to learn to express your thoughts. Even if it is only for yourself. But it is never just for yourself, for in expressing yourself to yourself, you will naturally be clearer in your expression toward others. Next to the obvious activity of writing, there is speech and dialogue. Although I am of the opinion that philosophy should be mostly a solitary affair, there is great value in learning from each other. Do make use of it, especially now that it is so easy to connect with like-minded individuals. This will only deepen your own path.
It is man’s greatest fear to have lived an entire life, without ever having a single thought of his own. Thought is creation, and ideas have to be born in your brain. The food necessary for this creation to take place was discussed under the heading of ‘inspiration’, but don’t do yourself and your fellow men a dishonour by never actually bearing fruit.
It need not be mentioned that creation for creation’s sake is to be avoided, just as reading merely for reading’s sake is to be avoided. Life must be strengthened by both activities, life must not be wasted away by them.
Contemplation:
As much as philosophy is about thought, it is also about going beyond thought. We seek knowledge of reality, but how could we ever attain this knowledge, if we are continually distracted by our senses and our thoughts? In living this life, we are always aware of things. I am aware of this piece of paper in front of me, I feel this pen between my fingers, I am aware of the sun on my skin. But this awareness is always specific, it is directed at certain objects —the paper, my fingers, the pen, the sun, my skin. And in putting our attention to such specific objects, we necessarily lose attention of other things, and of the fact of awareness itself. The philosopher who is always thinking about this or that, is a distracted philosopher. He cannot love wisdom, for he is caught up in loving particular objects. And he soon loses the ability to think, because he is only being thought by the objects that ask him for his attention. He is a slave to his surroundings, to his body, to the thoughts that pop up in his mind without his control, to the desires of his body, to the opinions floating around in his society, and to the false opinions he deceives himself with. This philosopher has no view of reality, but only of what distracts him from it. He has knowledge of specifics, but no longer of what is truly universal.
Thus, you should practice not only thought, but also stillness. There are many practices, united under the heading of contemplation, the noble goal of self-thinking thought and pure presence, wherein you are not thinking about this or that, but in which thinking thinks itself, in which awareness is aware of itself.
“Go back into yourself and look.”
(Plotinus, I.6.9.)
You must not be as naive as to think that this will just happen to you, just like you shouldn’t be as arrogant as to think that great ideas will be born in you without you doing the work of inspiration and creation. So you must practice, and meditation is what this practice has always been called. You must sit still, and exercise control over whatever is begging for your attention —feelings, memories, thoughts, future anxieties, and even deep philosophical thoughts which seem to be most important. You will realize that you are nothing but a slave, not even capable of controlling his own mind, and that freedom is still very far away for you. Do not kid yourself by saying that “walking is my form of meditating”, or “smoking a cigar while listening to music is my way of meditating.” It is not, in walking your thought is directed on the walking, and in listening to music your thought is directed to the music. You are thinking about some-thing, but never are you thinking thought itself. You will notice that you are incapable of not thinking about something, you are dragged all around in this whirlwind of thought and feeling. And this is fine, the first step towards freedom is realizing that you are in chains. Meditation is this practice of focus, of consciously keeping your thought under your own control. It is the hardest and most boring practice, but after a while, when the attachments of your body and mind start noticing that you are no longer interested in them, they will leave you alone, and what will remain is pure vision.
I need not remind you that there are no shortcuts here. The commandment is still the same as it always was: know thyself. You cannot 'deconstruct' the false opinions of the world, if you do not conquer your own. You cannot know the truth about the world, if you do not know the truth about yourself.
It is the greatest sadness that common philosophical education has renounced this aspect of contemplation so dear to philosophy, only laughing at those who still know of its place inside the house of wisdom. Not realizing that in ridiculing the task of contemplation, they are ridiculing philosophy itself. Philosophy has always sought freedom —freedom from false opinion, from the distraction of the senses, from all the base passions that drag man down —, but now it only justifies its own enslavement. For without contemplation, we are always deceived and influenced by what surrounds us, as Plotinus reminds us:
“For everything that pays attention to something else is liable to be bewitched by that something; the thing that it pays attention to bewitches it and exerts a pull on it.”
(Plotinus, IV. 4.)
“It is only contemplation that is left to be immune to sorcery, because no one whose attention is focused on himself is subject to sorcery.”
(Plotinus, IV.4.)
When we cannot distance ourselves from this influence, we are powerless in the face of it, mere slaves.
There is a rabid spirit of materialism ravaging our cultures, laughing at any notion of a higher self, at all notions of higher realities, but only because it hasn’t developed a finer sense of vision, because it was unable to sit with itself in an empty room. Contemplate the sadness of this.
IV. Living well
Inspiration, creation, contemplation. These then are the three headings of philosophical ascesis, of the training towards the love of wisdom. And you would do well to incorporate all of them into your days. Not only if philosophy is your vocation.
To someone who confessed that he had no interest in philosophy, Diogenes the Cynic replied: “then why live at all, if you have no interest in living well?”