Filed under: philosophy | Tags: chaos, daytime TV, debate, draft, happiness, help, philosophy, self, therapy, typing, writing
I started writing a new post earlier this evening but I have the feeling that it’s going to linger in my Drafts for a long time before being fit for public scrutiny. The topic? Em, the essence of man, the constitution of self, or, Who am I?
I love sitting down and hearing the keys beating out my ideas, the steady rhythm of my typing lending a semblance of order to the chaos of my mind. Writing in any form has always been a form of therapy for me, and it’s still the only thing in my life that forces me to tabulate my thoughts. When it comes to the big questions in life, such as ‘Am I truly happy?’, ‘What should I do with my life?’ or ‘Is watching daytime TV ever acceptable?’, the most direct route to the answers that inevitably lie within is for me to sit down and transform my thoughts into comprehensible sentences.
It’s amazing how putting thoughts into words can wake you up to your own reality. I’ve realised that it’s common to be surprised or even mildly embarrassed by your own thoughts as they look directly back at you from a page or a screen. It’s as if you’ve transformed them from esoteric objects into material things – words are more measurable, more final and more solid than the contents of your mind.
As for the ‘Who am I?’ question, the internal debate continues. I’ve been overwhelmed this week by a catalogue of conflicting ideas on the subject. Help me out, if you can – who are you?
Filed under: philosophy | Tags: aesthetic, beauty, happiness, heart, help, insight, opinion, philosophy, potential
Thursday evening is often the highlight of my week. It’s Philosophy night, and each week proves to be more thought-provoking than the last. Yesterday the main topic of conversation was Beauty – absolute beauty, or beauty itself, as opposed to the fleeting beauty of physical things.
Our tutor put forward the proposition that beauty is everywhere, in everything, and eternal. He made the point that beauty is everywhere, but sometimes we don’t see it. He gave an example of a septic tank - not generally recognised as an item of beauty, but certainly something that might be beautiful if seen through, for example, the eyes of a microbiologist.
I’ve been thinking about beauty a lot today, and I’m finding it difficult to simply accept his propositions as facts. That’s the wonderful thing about philosophy – instead of learning things that are scientific or true, we’re encouraged to explore all the possibilities of those things that can’t be measured or tested.
Beauty IS everywhere, as it is something that exists inside us and is reflected in the things around us. Beauty affects us by invoking an emotional response, creating happiness and opening our hearts. Beauty IS eternal, it has always existed and always will. But septic tanks? Even to a microbiologist, isn’t a septic tank more admirable due to its functionality, or interesting because of it’s content, than it is beautiful?
An interesting comment was made last night – that by defining things, and giving them names, we make the things around us less beautiful. An example was a simple concrete block – because we all recognise it, understand its function, and can name it, we are distracted from its true form. We might consider it beautiful if it was something we had never seen before. If this is true, then surely a septic tank is even less beautiful to a microbiologist who has an in depth understanding of its workings?
Just because beauty itself is everywhere, does that neccesarily mean that it is in everything? I can think of reasons why even disgusting things are of value in certain situations, even how things that strike us as ugly can be aesthetically pleasing to others. But Beauty – that beauty that opens the heart – I can’t imagine that it is present in everything.
Even if that beauty IS present in everything I’m not sure that I want to be able to recognise it. To see beauty in roadkill as easily as I see beauty in a sunset, or hear beauty in chaos as naturally as I hear it in a symphony. Wouldn’t that detract from our experience of beauty?
As I sit here with my laptop on my knee the sun is streaming through the sitting room window. This room, rarely recognised as a beautiful place, is lit up, the wooden chair across from me glowing in the late afternoon light. As the sun sets later this evening the view from that window is truly beautiful, as every day slowly ends in a subtly different way. The stars I can see from here on a clear night and the silhouette of the trees on the other side of the car park make me pause for a moment, aware of that happiness within, feeling my heart open up to the world.
I think everything has the potential to be beautiful. I think we could all begin to recognise the beauty around is if we simply took the time to see our surroundings with new eyes. I think by recognising beauty in the world around us, we become more beautiful ourselves, as our hearts open and fill with happiness.
I’d love to hear your views and thought on this… any insight is appreciated!
