Tag Archives: Philosophy

Consciousness Considered

Posted on by Bill Ryan

It is like something to be me.

It is like something to be you.

But I will never know you as you know you.

And you can never know me as I know me.

 

We share with our fellow humans limited access and a narrow degree of understanding of our own private and unique realities. As best as we can determine, we each carry our own singular sense of self — our own subjective existences. In fact, I can only speak for myself in making such a declaration. I can only assume you exist within your own subjective self, one which is largely similar to my own. Still, I can never know for sure. I am unable to peer into, never mind climb into, your experience, your feelings, your manner of thinking. We are like members of an archipelago, separate but united communally.

Consciousness is that mysterious and miraculous continuance, that profound set of impressions we encounter as a consequence of being alive. It is as fundamental to our experience of reality as is the awareness of our own body. One could think that something so elemental to our identity must be generally well understood given the amount of investigation so many have done simply by living various levels of examined lives over so many millennia.

However, consciousness is not thoroughly understood within a widely accepted theory. There is no universally agreed upon principle or law which fully explains its generation and sustenance. No highly esteemed philosopher or scientist has revealed the immutably true and comprehensive nature of consciousness. Conventional wisdom suggests we all experience consciousness, but beyond that, those who ponder and speculate about the etiology of such an esoteric yet personal topic like consciousness are not in agreement about its causation, meaning, or purpose.

For many of us, there comes a time in our lives in which find ourselves motivated to consider how it is we have the mind we have — to think about how we think. This involves a meta-cognition or self-analysis of how we think, and by extension, how we also feel and behave. We realize that the reach and complexity of our minds is vast leaving us each with enormous potential to live rich lives. When we stop to think about it, I believe most of us conclude that it is truly remarkable that we can perceive such resplendence and fullness through our minds.

I have wondered if I should think about consciousness and mind as synonymous. When listening to and reading the philosophers and scientists discuss consciousness the topic appears twofold. Some do consider mind and consciousness as one in the same, albeit with some nuanced connotational differences at times. Others view consciousness as a realm in and of itself detached from the rational and sensorial mind we use to cope environmentally.

I see consciousness and mind as inseparably linked. Does consciousness beget mind or does mind beget consciousness? Neither. They are one and the same phenomenon, a marvel of the universe. The Logos, or generative spirit, is saying that to be complete All-There-Is must have an observer. We have minds illuminated by consciousness to be this observer.

 

At least that is what I think. But who am I?

What I am is an observer, a beholder of what is.

Self-discovery motivates.

Let’s look to see what is behind the next door.

 

This matters because to exist matters. And a big part of existing is to pay attention. We have a mind that allows us to be aware of reality. (Whatever reality is.) For now, I choose to be amazed at what I have spent the better part of lifetime taking for granted. That I can think rationally, feel sensations, have memory, speculate about the future, and notice the present moment is spectacular enough. But to take the position, as I am, that our consciousness, our mindfulness, our self-awareness is a direct bond to the core of universality, spiritualism, and the Logos is audacious but also comforting.

As humans, I believe we have to have faith in something. I say this as someone who has been skeptical, even suspicious, of faith. Faith has connoted dogma, rigidity, and closed mindedness to me. Age has softened this stance. I now see faith as a form of value adoption. Values give us purpose, a reason to get out of bed in the morning. Faith does something similar, perhaps even grander. It can give us a reason to live.

To have faith says we put our heart, mind, and soul into a belief. To be sure, how steadfast we are in our faith depends on incoming data. We have to allow for degrees of malleability regarding our faith. (Something a religious person would probably disagree with.) Nevertheless, resting our convictions on a bed of probability, even believability, is grounding and worth the attachment to certainty — however fleeting it may be.

I have faith in mindfulness, or consciousness as I will refer to it from this point on, as an expression of the sacred. We are born with this capacity to know of ourselves and others. Consciousness presents us with senses and mental ability to comprehend and to interpret. Some say this aptitude is nothing more than an evolutionary result of learning to grapple with survival in a hostile environment since life on this planet began. Or that consciousness is an illusory outcome of neural operations with little more biological significance than walking or digesting. I think consciousness is too majestic an occurrence to be lightly dismissed or rendered mundane. Its place in the universe could be every bit as imposing as material substance, space, time, and electromagnetism.

I seek to know what lessons can be learned concerning consciousness from history. I begin as I have by stating my premise or my belief that consciousness is not accidental or ancillary, but rather exists as a result of a necessary cosmic design born of the Logos, the generative spirit, the spark propagating all that there is. Some may call this originating energy God. And if it were not for the distracting and unsettling anthropomorphizing imagery of religion I would be fine with the label.

Regardless, I pursue an investigation of consciousness from my vantage point as stated for two reasons. One, I want to reveal why I have come to see consciousness as more than a happenstance of biology, but rather as a gateway to the One, the Logos. Secondly, I realize that this topic is voluminous and will occupy much of my remaining years. So, in the the spirit of learning I want to see what more there is to ascertain at this point in time.

 

Self-awareness, the most individual of perceptions

My mind, my viewpoint, my existence

Universal consciousness, the most inclusive of conceptions

Our minds, our viewpoints, our existences

 

Speculation on the origins of self-awareness and the nature of consciousness is at least thousands of years old as evidenced by recorded history across a variety of cultures. Undoubtedly, people have pondered the roots of their being and existence for far longer. Whether through the application of knowledge to better cope and thrive within a challenging environment or through deep contemplation and penetrating self-examination during moments of relative peace, humans have considered the existential meaning of life. It is by way of a review of the milestones of philosophic history that we can trace the development of phenomenological or subjective human thought.

I begin this investigation with ancient Indian philosophy. The Upanishads is a scriptural authority comprised of ancient Sanskrit texts composed collectively between circa 800 BCE to circa 200 BCE. The anthology focuses on philosophical and spiritual teachings and guidance. The Upanishads, along with the Bhagavad Gita and the Brahma Sutras, constitute the Vedanta philosophy, one of the principal schools of Hinduism.

Credit must be given to the Indo-Aryans, an early branch of today’s populations of the Asian sub-continent and the speakers of ancient Sanskrit. They burst forth with a bold and intrepid recognition of and interpretation of consciousness. The Upanishads, a product of the Indo-Aryans, delves extensively into everything philosophical and spiritual from metaphysics to practical guidance for daily living. But one topic it explores keenly is the nature of consciousness.

The Upanishads distinguishes between the universal consciousness, known as Brahman, and the consciousness of the individual or soul, known as Atman. In this tradition, Brahman is true reality and is present everywhere and in everything throughout the universe. Atman is a manifestation of Brahman. The individual consciousness is an expression of the supreme reality. This unity suggests that each person, indeed each particle of the universe, carries within it the divine — the everlasting, pervasive, immutable, and sublime essence of reality.

Establishment of Hinduism relied significantly on The Upanishads. And in turn, Buddhism evolved from Hinduism. However, Buddhism does not identify consciousness as an immutable construct of the self. Indeed, Buddhism does not even recognize the existence of a self as is conventionally done in most other traditions. Rather, Buddhism views consciousness as a churn of internal psychological states of mind and sensory reactions to experiences that lacks permanence or innate substance.

Buddhism tells individuals that consciousness is a quality to be overcome. Meditation teaches us to confront the capriciousness of consciousness head on by not letting its seductive illusion of permanence or its unstable push and pull of impressions occupy our mental states. Since consciousness appears and abates constantly, Buddhism teaches us to let it pass and to not let it define us. Indeed, to transcend consciousness is to become enlightened.

Ancient Chinese philosophy, particularly Daoism, approaches consciousness similarly to the Upanishads in that self-realization is believed to be inextricably linked to the Dao, known as The Way or the foundation of nature. Dao is a similar concept to the universal consciousness of the Indo-Aryans, Brahman. It forms the basis of all individuals’ consciousness. The task in this life for each of us is to be in harmony with the natural rhythm and current of Dao. This is accomplished through a life of dedication, meditation, contemplation, and ethical practice.

The other grand philosophical tradition of ancient China, Confucianism, is less metaphysical or ontological about consciousness. Rather it sees self-awareness and mindfulness as an integral aspect of being human and one that is enhanced through moral practices that encourage strong relationships, sound personal behavior, and social solidarity. Personal growth and development, moral refinement, and social concord are best achieved by devoted individuals each acting on improving the quality of their respective consciousnesses.

The ancient Greek philosophers saw the importance of consciousness emerging as part of their engrossment in metaphysics and ontology (the branch of philosophy concerned with existence and being). As they attempted to understand the nature of the universe and reality, consciousness was seen as integral to the notion of soul, a necessary component of comprehending reality. Plato and Aristotle presented the individual soul as multifaceted with consciousness playing a critical part in the mind’s ability to reason. Reason, perception, and thought were believed to be essential functions to being human and not possible without consciousness.

More recently, the Islamic world also pontificated on the importance of consciousness. The notable hallmark of the Islamic position was to emphasize a linkage between consciousness and the divine. All pervasive reality is equivalent to Allah and consciousness is an expression of Allah. Furthermore, consciousness provides humans with an intellect to better unite with and to celebrate the wonder of Allah or reality. Intellect is seen as a most prominent part of the soul, because through it we can comprehend and appreciate how unified are the ontological truths about the existence of Allah.

 

I see my dog across the room.

How did the dog come to exist?

What is the story of the dog’s past?

What is the purpose of the dog?

Should I take an action because of the dog?

These questions do not need answers.

These questions do not matter.

All that matters is my experience of seeing my dog across the room.

 

Plotinus (circa 204-270) was born in Egypt. When he was forty years old Plotinus moved to Rome and there founded a school of philosophy. The philosophy he spawned would become a principal philosophical ideology from the third century to the middle of the seventh century, roughly the time spanning the fall of Rome to the Muslim invasion of Europe at Andalucía. What gave power to this system of thought was that it was an amalgamation or fusion of centuries of pre-Socratic through Aristotelian inquiry that was heavily influenced by Platonism and Stoicism. Today we call this school of the western philosophical tradition Neoplatonism.

The Neoplatonists helped to seal monism as the preferred way to perceive deity or the divine. The One, The First, The Being, The Good, or as the Neoplatonists said, Nous, was paid homage to as the single point of creation, the sole source of all reality. Among the attributes of Nous is the desire to create consciousness. This allows Nous to observe itself, to look both out and in. Out to its emerging reality. Then back in so as to continuously reconnect with its virtuous self. Consciousness is nous insistently and incessantly understanding itself. And a piece of consciousness is carried to each emergent entity within reality, such as ourselves.

Consciousness became a serious rumination of several philosophers in the continental western tradition beginning with Rene Descartes (1596-1650) in the seventeenth century. Descartes legitimized a philosophy of mind, which included consciousness, self-awareness, and soul as a critical non-material “substance” and which is separate in nature from the physical form or body. Underpinning the Cartesian approach to philosophy was his renowned proclamation “Cogito, ergo sum” (I think, therefore I am). This assertion placed the mind at the essential core of his philosophical inquiry.

However, it was philosophy’s German Idealism movement during the late eighteenth and early nineteenth centuries that elevated and developed consciousness as fundamental in modern philosophy. German Idealism also set up consciousness as worthy of scientific investigation during the twentieth and twenty-first centuries. This chapter in western philosophy was dominated by two individuals primarily, Kant and Hegel.

During the years between Descartes and the advent of German Idealism, which began with Immanuel Kant (1724-1804), western philosophy had become an intellectual conflict between a reliance on rationalism, based geographically on the European continent, and empiricism, centered in Britain. Rationalism stressed the notion that the innate human capacity to think and to reason was the key to unlocking a comprehension of reality. Precise deductive and mathematical methods rigorously applied would reveal God’s design. In Britain, an alternative to the dependency on reason developed. Empiricism insisted that the knowledge humans needed to understand reality derived primarily from sensory experience. We can only know what the senses detect and to speculate beyond what sensory input displays lacks verification and credibility.

Kant, a native of Prussia, set out to discover a third way, a reconciliation between rationalism and empiricism. This mediation began with Kant’s revelation of the transcendental self. Also known as transcendental idealism, it is a concept placing consciousness at the nexus of the mind’s ability to both reason logically and to detect and to unify sensory experiences. Consciousness is an underlying subjectivity that makes possible all human cognition. It is an inborn and active instrument allowing us to perceive, systematize, and produce knowledge. Yes, we are limited by our mind’s power and potential, but regardless consciousness permits us to be both rationale and empirical in assessing reality. The mind started to stand on center stage across western philosophy more than it ever had before.

Georg Wilhelm Friedrich Hegel (1770-1831), originally from Stuttgart, continued the philosophical work of Kant by again placing consciousness at the nucleus of his idealistic project. Hegel viewed consciousness developmentally beginning with a primary stage that involved raw sense perception. As an individual matures their consciousness expands in sophistication such that thought is more capable of observing ever more keenly, of organizing and categorizing observable content, and of gaining more self-identification. In time, the mind progresses to think abstractly and realize global premises and fundamentals. Hegel claims that the ultimate stage of consciousness is when it accepts unity with what he called the absolute spirit, a concept akin to understanding universal principles.

Hegel’s absolute spirit is the peak of the consciousness pyramid, in which the consciousness of each person becomes conjoined and all-pervasive reaching a level of fundamentalism and universality that explains reality inclusively such that history, culture, and the collective energy of all individuals’ consciousnesses is engaged. There is a strong resemblance of the Indo-Aryan’s Brahman or universal consciousness in Hegel’s absolute spirit. This culmination of consciousness according to Hegel results in each person having a clearer self-understanding, an awareness of their place within their culture and the world, and a firmer knowledge about universal truth and reality.

Edmund Husserl (1859-1938), an Austrian-German, brought structure to a philosophy of consciousness, which had actually been practiced for centuries, but which did not have a distinct name. Phenomenology is the label Husserl chose. He defined this philosophy as “the science of the essence of consciousness”. By this, Husserl concentrated on first-person and subjective experiences as of fundamental importance. And crucial to this view is that consciousness necessarily functions with intentionality. What we see, hear, imagine, think, feel, wish, desire, will, or act upon involves external objects of our attention. Consciousness does not exist in isolation. It is a consciousness of something. It is how we make meaning of our world.

Phenomenology motivated a multitude of philosophical and psychological writers to explore the notion of first-person experience well into the twentieth century. Examples include the pragmatic approach of American William James (1842-1910), who saw consciousness as a continuous and shifting stream of perceptions designed to allow us to adjust to our environments; the British mathematician and philosopher Alfred North Whitehead (1861-1947), noted for theorizing that consciousness or subjectivity exists in all entities of the cosmos; and the French existentialists Jean-Paul Sartre (1905-1980) and Simone de Beauvoir (1908-1986), who emphasized the ultimate conscious freedom inherent in each person to authentically and meaningfully exist as they choose in the face of the outpouring of perils life throws at us.

 

“The brain is locked in total darkness, of course children”, says the voice. “It floats in a clear liquid inside the skull, never in the light. And yet the world it constructs in the mind is full of light. It brims with color and movement. So how, children, does the brain, which lives without a spark of light, build for us a world full of light?“

Anthony Doerr from All the Light We Cannot See

 

In 1994 at the University if Arizona a conference was convened entitled, “Toward a Science of Consciousness”. Dr. Stuart Hameroff, an anesthesiologist and psychologist, and Dr. David Chalmers, a philosopher and cognitive scientist, invited a multidisciplinary group of researchers and scholars to share knowledge regarding the constitution of consciousness. Intellectuals and academics from fields as diverse as neuroscience, psychology, philosophy, computer science, physics, and anthropology met for five days to unpack five consciousness related themes:

  • Neural Correlates of Consciousness
  • Philosophical Perspectives
  • Consciousness and Quantum Physics
  • Altered States of Consciousness
  • Artificial Intelligence and Consciousness

No such conference had ever been held before. “Toward a Science of Consciousness” ushered in the contemporary study of consciousness that is continuing to this day. The Science of Consciousness conference, as it is now called, is an annual event at The Center for Consciousness Studies at the University of Arizona. As the title of the conference suggests, science and philosophy are now conjoined in the modern approach to consciousness studies. This fusion could be seen as an advancement of sorts. Up until then science, with possibly a few exceptions, had a mostly hands-off approach to consciousness. Science seemed content to leave the topic in the hands of philosophy and religion.

The historic gap between science and philosophy regarding consciousness was best encapsulated by David Chalmers at the 1994 conference when he distinguished between the Hard Problem of Consciousness and the “easy problems” of consciousness. By easy problems he was referring to the successes of neurology and psychology in discovering how neural networks and cognitive functions had been identified to explain mental operations such as perception, focus, and memory. But what science and philosophy had not yet done was to explain how physical mechanisms of the brain could yield subjective experiences and sensations, in other words what it is like to be me and you. That is the Hard Problem. Solving the easy problems has not yielded the intrinsic nature of consciousness.

What Chalmers is describing is the latest in a long line of versions of what is known as the mind-body problem. Since at least Plato and Aristotle philosophers and other thinkers have pondered and theorized about consciousness/mind/soul and its relationship to the physical or material body. Conjecture ranges across a span from consciousness being a by-product of physical processes in the brain to mind and body being comprised of different qualities able to exist side by side. In short, this is a physicalism-dualism spectrum. There remains no consensus as to a solution of the mind-body problem.

There is, however, one approach that may offer hope to resolving the issue of whether consciousness emanates from physical activity such as brain functions or if it co-exists separately but in tandem with the body. Panpsychism is a theory which may mediate between physicalism and its inability to precisely explain the emergence of consciousness from bodily material and dualism which does not satisfy our need to know how mind and matter truly interact. Panpsychism proposes that consciousness or mentality is intrinsic to and a basic characteristic of the universe. Each entity or being in the universe possesses within its core a degree of sentience, an element of subjectivity. If this were true, dualism as a concept would become inoperative and physicalism would lose its catalytic power to generate consciousness.

 

“There ain’t any answer, there ain’t going to be any answer, there never has been any answer, that’s the answer.”

Gertrude Stein from Brewsie and Willie 

 

I expressed earlier on in this piece an inclination toward having faith in the sacredness of consciousness. This belief is reinforced as I review my historic summary of subjective awareness. In particular, certain episodes of this consciousness analysis over the ages resonate with me more acutely than others. Intellect and emotion are sparked by some of these descriptions to such a degree that I am left to feel, “That sounds right. This makes sense. I think this could be true.” I accept that my truth may be at odds with your truth. Absolute truths, assuming they exist, are surprisingly elusive. We may have to agree to disagree. If so, that is fine.

When I read in The Upanishads about the account of Brahman, the universal consciousness, and Atman, the individual’s consciousness, then I nod my head in agreement. Contemplating the Dao as the cornerstone of nature and of all consciousness resonates with me. I accept the notion put forth and explored by Plato and Aristotle, and later picked up by the Christians, that we have a soul, which may very well be consciousness, mentality, mind, and spiritual awareness all rolled into one. Yes, the Neoplatonists were onto something when declaring consciousness as a means for The One to reflect upon itself. And the German idealists were shrewd to recognize the total necessity of mind or awareness as a means to understanding reality.

At present, I am left asking myself, what is it that really grabs my attention and imagination from the times we are now living? What will occupy the consciousness branch of my philosophical studies for the foreseeable future? At this point in my learning I see the following schools of thought as warranting the greatest attention and consideration — the ongoing speculative influences of phenomenology, idealism, and panpsychism. My interest in contemporary philosophy is centered on phenomenology, idealism, and panpsychism because they all bring what I see to be different, but related and valuable perspectives on the origins, impact, and reach of consciousness.

Phenomenology is immensely rewarding in accepting as substantial the ephemeral but precious conception of sentient experience. Phenomenology provides a permission structure for modern people to not be so tightly wedded to science as consciousness is examined, but to instead accept that the first person viewpoint carries significant weight, even if the origins of subjectivity cannot be definitively explained by science or by any other empirical method. The effect of phenomenology remains profound as we consider the connection between the self and reality. By exploring the foundations of lived experience we are able to get a more full picture of what human existence and reality are.

Idealism is philosophy’s way of saying the mind is preeminent in perceiving reality and all physicalism or materialist interpretations of reality are at least subordinate to mentality, if not otherwise hopelessly misguided. Idealism is a radical, but largely plausible attempt to challenge realism. Realism states that there exists a reality out there which is independent of our minds. According to idealism, our Cartesian brainwashing leaves most of convinced that realism is true. But idealism, with its emphasis on the supremacy of mentality, and by extension consciousness, leads us to think otherwise. Philosopher Thelma Lavine puts it this way, “Idealism holds that ultimate reality is mental and that seemingly monumental things such as material objects are reducible to the ideas of consciousness or mind.”

In short, panpsychism represents a sea change in how the contemplation of consciousness is now taking place. Thanks to the panpsychist view, gone are the days of a wholly revered physicalism which at best could say that consciousness was the result of material processes not involving consciousness, as in neural activity. Instead, it is becoming more accepted among philosophers to think of human and animal consciousness as comprised of, or at least influenced by, more fundamental iterations of consciousness — a form of reductionism, if you will. The mind-body distinction has taken the study of consciousness to an impasse. Panpsychism may be a way for us to escape the cul-de-sac.

This summation of consciousness as viewed philosophically is a developing venture on my part. I will not be surprised to have shifted my way of thinking about it sooner rather than later. That said, my core interest in this topic and my reverence for the miracle of consciousness will not abate. Indeed, I will cling to and try to comprehend my consciousness as I do my life itself — as if they were one in the same.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Intersection of Philosophy and Physics

Posted on by Bill Ryan

Sometimes in life we find that what initially appear to be separate and discreet interests can converge to form a compelling composite which begs to be explored. When this occurs in the context of trying to live an examined life, then a stimulating and energizing endeavor is launched. For me lately, by which I mean the past three years or so, that is occurring at the intersection of philosophy and physics. Let me explain.

As anyone who may have taken any time over the last couple of years to read my essay posts, it is likely obvious that I have been enamored with philosophy of late. There are several reasons for this attraction. For one, as a retiree I have the good fortune of having the mental health and available time to engage in an academic exercise, such as studying philosophy and to the extent I can comprehend it, its companion and contemporary discipline, quantum mechanics. These topics have held my interest for many years, but while living the working life I never could devote the necessary time and concentration required to make any lasting sense of these subjects.

Beyond simply having time and casual interest in philosophy and physics I am drawn to these areas of study for several other reasons. I believe I am not yet too old to use this knowledge as a possible guide to living a more eudemonic or flourishing life with the years I have left. Additionally, as I conduct a life review and reflect on all I have lived and experienced, this study helps me to better understand why things are as they been and why I have engaged with this life as I have.

Finally, I want to prepare myself for what is next after this life. Unlike devout religious people, I have not relied on a prescriptive belief of a hereafter. However, now knowing more concretely that death is more impending than ever before I want to have some comfort in knowing what to expect. In short, I want to have faith in a likely scenario for what will happen to me after I take my final breath.

My informal examination of philosophy and physics began and continued for some while on separate tracks. However over time, I began to see that the two disciplines overlapped in ways I had not expected. Philosophy, while not a social science, is certainly not a hard quantifiable science either. It is too broad, too deep, and too subjective to be considered a science. It is a field of study uniquely its own.

Physics, or more specifically quantum physics or quantum mechanics as it is more popularly known, is indeed a hard science, characterized by objectivity, procedural rigor, and preciseness. So, where is the connection between philosophy and quantum mechanics? It is in a purview of fundamentalism or foundationalism, which I will attempt to explain.

To better understand this conjunction of philosophy and quantum mechanics it can be helpful to know that philosophy and science grew in tandem, emerging jointly from the original pontifications of ancient Greeks who were attempting to explain the core nature of the world in which they lived. Aristotle (384 BCE-322 BCE) can be credited with giving science an early and consequential springboard. He differed from his teacher Plato (c.429 BCE-347 BCE) in some key ways. According to Aristotle, Plato was too steeped in logically determined metaphysical underpinnings that were rooted in abstractness. His philosophical constructs were too perfectly defined and objectively certain for Aristotle.

Rather, Aristotle found it more desirable and necessary to focus on the full range of tangible worldly materials and the way they changed, developed, decayed, and behaved. He thought knowledge should spring from a deep scrutiny of the explicit substances available to us. Hence, what became a western-styled science was given permission to exist.

Science as we know it today did not have a single founder. Neither did philosophy. But when we look back through history to determine the origins of the eventual merger of philosophy and science we inevitably come again to Aristotle. In the fourth century BCE he was philosophically influenced and inculcated by two of the most prominent thinkers of the ancient world, Socrates (c.470 BCE-300 BCE) and his tutor Plato. With that philosophical grounding he went on to expand his understanding of the natural world through the practice of what became essentials of scientific inquiry.

To begin with, Aristotle was intensely curious. This mattered, because curiosity is the launch pad for examination, creativity, problem solving, social progress, and personal development. Aristotle directed his curiosity in the establishment of a systematization of two very human capabilities, observation and reasoning. Focused empiricism and self-guided reasoning together determined the foundation for scientific investigation still in practice to this day.

Among the areas in which Aristotle applied his empirical and reasoning method was to better understand what we call today biology, ecology, and physics. It was in these sciences, including physics which for centuries was known as natural philosophy, that he formalized the practice of disaggregating and classifying the natural world into discreet categories, principally causation, the elements, motion, and teleology (purpose-drive goals). Although many of his specific predictions did not stand up to the scrutiny of time, Aristotle’s three-way utilization of careful examination, logical reasoning, and classification nevertheless set the stage for the development of today’s scientific method.

Notice that Aristotle was drawn to a process which tried to base conclusions about the nature of reality by identifying and examining what he believed to be the constituent parts of reality. To better comprehend the totality of all there is, Aristotle determined it necessary to first apprehend the parts of all there is.

Aristotle was not the first of the ancient Greek philosophers to reach for a method we now call reductionism. A reductionist approach attempts to describe grand and intricate events and occurrences by minimizing, analyzing, and viewing them through their elemental segments. Key pre-Socratic philosophers also employed a similar technique.

Thales of Miletus (c.626 BCE-548 BCE) is another historic figure credited with early scientific thought. He proposed that everything in the known universe could be reduced to a single ingredient — water. Anaximenes (c.586 BCE-526 BCE) suggested that the fundamental element was air. And Heraclitus (c.535 BCE-475 BCE) offered that fire was what everything was derived from. The tendency to reduce the universe to its most basic workings has set the tone for how westerners contemplate and envisage all that there is from the beginning of recorded history.

As we see, the ancient Greeks set western science on a course of reductionism, which again can be simply explained as reducing complex circumstances or phenomena to basic and underlying components. To be sure, reductionism has driven science to comprehend a view of reality which has resulted in many remarkable discoveries. Through reductionism we have refined our ability to study phenomena, make predictions, and determine primal laws of nature.

As science, and in particular physics, matured the individual whose approach and legacy keenly exemplifies reductionism was the English scientist Isaac Newton (1643-1727). Whether it was in his works related to the laws of motion and gravity, optics, fluid dynamics, or in mathematics Newton applied reductionist thinking so as to better understand the nature of reality and predict natural processes. His procedures and methods have led to what has become the conventional manner of perceiving the known universe.

Newton’s influence on science and western thinking has been huge. Many of the services and products to emerge from applied science, which have had an immensely positive impact on humankind, can be credited to the profound influence of Newtonian schema and methodology. Historians claim that Newton’s contributions revolutionized science in disciplines ranging from astronomy to engineering and that modern physics and mathematics are attributed to his reductionist guidance. His analytic thinking that viewed natural phenomena through essential principles and equations remains extensive.

However, for all of the gains reductionism has brought to our world there has been a myopic and restrictive perception of the universe that has developed and hardened since the seventeenth century, such that conventional wisdom and commonplace thinking about the nature of reality is exceptionally mechanistic and based very heavily on rationalism.

Thanks to Rene Descartes (1596-1650) western thought took a sharp turn into the advancement of reason, which allowed for a skepticism to emerge about the reliance on Plato’s and Aristotle’s influence on scholastic thought, but also to question the power of the Church to dictate enforced beliefs. Among the great consequences of Descartes’ life work was to extensively influence a novel and rational pattern of western philosophical thought and by extension induce a metaphysical and scientific view regarding the nature of reality that exists to this day. Descartes can be credited with establishing a revolutionary intellectual environment in which Newton could pursue his creation of the new physics.

Descartes was committed to discovering the most basic truths of reality and did so by attempting to determine the most foundational aspects of knowledge or epistemology. In essence, Rene Descartes applied reductionism in an attempt to unveil how we as humans could understand the fundamentals of reality. He skeptically stripped away all of his preconceptions and premises about the world to search for that one incontrovertible truth marking the starting point for the thoughtful and aware self. “Cogito, ergo sum” became that target. “I think, therefore I am.”

The reductionist epistemological method used by Descartes contributed greatly to validating reductionism as a technique applicable to comprehending all that there is. As science developed into a set of disciplines in the years following Descartes, we see reductionism widely used as a process for peering into the nature of complex systems. Indeed, it is the approach of perceiving complex systems through reductionism that both helps and hinders our understanding of natural occurrences, especially when it comes to science.

As mentioned earlier, there can be setbacks to relying on reductionism to reveal answers to the mysteries of existence. To better understand I will begin by noting that there is no more complicated and elaborate structure than the universe. Reductionism attempts to simplify this vast complexity by identifying individual elements, which the thinking goes, combine to make the whole. As we are learning over time, intricate systems such as the universe involve more than parts. They also manifest qualities and processes that cannot be captured through an inventory of components alone.

For example, let’s look at consciousness, the phenomenon expressing our subjectivity and our sense of self. Is consciousness really just a result of brain action as in synapses among neurons or is there a more holistic, non-quantifiable, and universally fundamental process at play resulting in our experiential mindfulness? I would say, yes, that is very possible. Consciousness manifests as too miraculous and too illuminating to just be an outcome of the conduct of matter. Reductionism is too austere a method for explaining the richness of consciousness.

Synergy is a term referencing a type of alchemy. A force or efficiency is achieved within a complex system when its constituent parts interact such that the system’s overall effectiveness is measurably greater than the sum of the individual parts. How does this happen? It is counterintuitive and contrary to what basic arithmetic tells us. Synergy is a way of say two plus two equals five. Something magical appears to happen when components interact cooperatively resulting in the whole being more than all of the portions added together.

Reductionism misses synergy in its calculation. There are existing and emerging properties not easily discerned by mathematics and science. Properties that have their origin in a generative spirit the ancient Stoics referred to as Logos (more on Logos later). Systems, no matter how complex they may be, are part of larger systems. Sequestering easily identifiable components can miss the valuable interactions in force. Interconnectedness and constant exchanges inject dynamism and vitality to systems. Reductionism does not always do a good job of accounting for such interoperability.

Reductionism can be seen as a practice stemming from a belief in materialism or physicalism. Materialism asserts that all of reality is composed of physical materials. This view rejects any notion of a separate spiritual reality or of a distinct existence related solely to mental states or consciousness. All that there is can be explained by physical substances and the laws governing their actions. In this type of reality reductionism makes sense. Just keep slicing and dicing until you get to the most essential particles of existence.

So why you might ask, is there this criticism of reductionism and by extension materialism, a methodology that has been practiced for centuries and which has led immeasurably to the betterment of humankind? Credit for this mental approach of discovery deserves to be given to reductionism as mentioned in reference to Isaac Newton above. However, the past hundred years has begun a grand and paradigm changing revelation highlighting the limits of reductionism. This relatively newly learned lesson comes in the form of quantum mechanics.

As science has continued to dig deeper and peer ever further into the material universe it has run into a roadblock of sorts. Strange things are occurring at the quantum level of reality — so strange that what we have thought for centuries about materialism and its character is now being reassessed. The behaviors and processes of matter and energy at this level upends our understanding of the known universe.

Quantum mechanics is the most recent approach to the study of modern physics, which began in the 1920s. It is a study of the most fundamental conduct of matter and energy occurring at atomic and subatomic stages. Physicists appear to have largely run out of runway when it comes to discovering the next smallest particle. But of special note is the fact that we enter a bizarro world at the quantum level that seems to question the linear and sequential order of things we have been accustomed to.

Let us take a look at some key examples of the conditions goading the quantum game changing reality.

Our journey into counterintuition best begins with a look at wave-particle duality. As best physicists can tell, the most quantum materialist entities discernable are particles, the most commonly known of which are photons (light) and electrons and protons (both subatomic). What is noticeable is that these particles along with other quantum particles exhibit both particle-like traits and wave-like traits. For example, a key particle-like property is discreteness, in which a quantized energy level or value is detectable. In the case of wave-like properties an example is wavefunction, a mathematical statement providing probability magnitude of a particle’s location in space. One is left questioning, is the most basic constituent a particle or a wave or are they somehow unified?

Wave-particle duality leaves a novice student such as myself thinking that everything, including matter, is energy. I see no reason to date to think otherwise. The other consideration of note is that wave-particle duality is a good starting point for learning about the other unique and odd discoveries of quantum mechanics and of the most fundamental particle entities (also known as quanta). It is safe to say that classical physics, such as Newtonian mechanics, electrodynamics, thermodynamics, and optics, ceases to be applicable at the quantum level of physics.

Superposition really rocks the world of how we thought things were. This term is used to describe particles being ubiquitous or in multiple states at the same time. It is only during an attempt by an observer to measure the state or position of a particle that the “wavefunction collapses” into only one state or position from among the many states or positions it could have been in. It is like Jim being in Moscow and New York at the same time, but until an observer intentionally spots Jim in Moscow can we say that there is where Jim is located at that moment.

Entanglement is just as irrational. In this phenomena we can have two particles entangled or influenced by one another, sometimes at great distances, i.e. nonlocality. The condition of one of the particles can be instantaneously affected by the other one even at distances where there should be a time lag due to the immense separation of space between them. Einstein remarked incredulously that such an occurrence was “spooky action at a distance” since an information exchange appeared to be occurring between the two particles quicker than the speed of light.

As you can see quantum measurement is a tough thing to nail down. How to measure key features of quantum entities remains a controversial and debated issue. When the very act of attempting measurement appears to affect the nature of the entity being measured how can one know its state in unobserved reality? In fact, one can wonder, is there such a thing as an unobserved reality?

As we are seeing, it makes sense that a central standard of quantum mechanics is known as the Uncertainty Principle. At the beginning of the quantum age in the 1920s, German physicist Werner Heisenberg (1901-1976) concluded that measuring the speed and location of a particle could not be accomplished accurately. In the nearly one hundred years since Heisenberg proclaimed the Uncertainty Principle it remains a valid concept. Once we dive deep enough into the quantum realm reality takes on a whole new meaning — one that is hard to wrap our minds around.

So what am I to apprehend from this convergence of philosophy and physics? What are my takeaways at this point in my understanding of this information and why should they matter? Does any of this change my perceptions to the degree that I think of the world differently than I did before? To begin answering these questions I will note what conclusions or beliefs I have from the above descriptions.

At heart, nature is my guide. I believe there is a natural process to the universe, an unfolding always occurring. Science and philosophy are lenses through which to view nature and from which to infer the basics of reality. Learning from nature is not as easy as just observation, however. Our six senses give us direct experience with reality, but they are also limiting in the amount of insights we can derive from nature. Something more than sensorial experience is needed. We humans are capable of integrating a non-sensorial dominion into our imaginations that can complement our rational comprehension of all that there is.

I have faith in Logos, the generative spirit introduced to us by the ancient Stoics, as my gateway to the non-sensorial realm. It is what produced the Big Bang and establishes the entire order/disorder of the universe. Logos is ubiquitous and present from the grandest structures in the universe to the quantum level. The expression of all physical and mental states have at their essence Logos. I believe this spirit is what is meant by a belief in God.

Dutch philosopher Baruch Spinoza (1632-1677) advocated for a notion of pantheism, the idea that God is in everything. He taught there does not exist a transcendent God separated from the creation or nature. Pantheism, and its modern secular counterpart panpsychism, captures what feels right to me. Logos is my starting point and the place to which I frequently return for apprehending reality.

Beyond a faith in Logos I face a significant challenge. It appears I am searching for certainty in an uncertain universe. Quantum mechanics tells me that we cannot be sure about much, if anything, at the core of reality. Nature is not boundlessly dissoluble. We can only slice and dice or reduce just so far. A point in reductionism arrives when we enter a province that is unpredictable, random, contradictory, and contingent.

Christopher Bader, principal investigator for the annual Chapman Survey of American Fears, notes that the many fears Americans share can be traced back to uncertainty. There is a self-help expression encouraging us to embrace uncertainty. Yes, accepting chance as more likely than conviction is a key upshot for me and perhaps it should be for others as well. This encourages me to be more agile in my thinking and less definite in the conclusions I draw.

The brain, of course, can do many things. Among them is a capacity to ensnare chance and possibility. It is also stochastic in how it operates, meaning the brain can be inherently random in how it processes inputs. Many of the results the brain yields are not predictable and based in certitude, but rather are presented as probabilities and statistical distributions. This may explain our ability to be creative and to have novel ideas.

As Dartmouth College neuroscientist Peter Tse suggests, because the brain functions such that new configurations of thought and conception are possible, this is likely an indication that the universe performs this way also. A reasonable hypothesis is that quantum processes with all of their stochasticity are manifesting in our brains and reflecting the workings of the universe at large.

One of the great controversies and mysteries of both philosophy and science historically concerns the question of whether the universe is deterministic or indeterministic. If deterministic, then all that has occurred since the Big Bang is preordained and destined to happen like the sequence of events in a movie. There are no interventions which can change destiny. All has already been programmed.

On the other hand, indeterminacy allows for capriciousness and irregularity, in other words the very randomness quantum mechanics indicates is commonplace. Change, process, and uncertainty are innate and part of the fabric of our reality. Learning to not resist this primary aspect of our universe seems wise.

I will finish with this observation. Of course our lives have a lot of predictability despite all of the evidence suggesting otherwise. The sun rises in the morning and sets in the evening. Spring still follows winter every year. Death ends lifetimes. The past has occurred. The future is yet to be experienced. And the present is ever fleeting. Life is not easily understood and the more we try to make sense of it the more questions are generated. That said, the intersection of philosophy and physics is a fascinating place to be. There is much more to learn. I imagine I will continue to visit this place often.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

We Are More Than Checklists

Posted on by Bill Ryan

Back in 2009 a well received book was published called The Checklist Manifesto by Atul Gawande, a surgeon, author, and public health researcher. The book promotes the use of developing and utilizing checklists to enhance the quality of outcomes resulting from the execution of complex procedures. Dr. Gawande cites many examples of how the deliberate use of checklists leads to greater efficiencies, more uniform discharge of protocols, and improved protections, particularly regarding procedures in which safety is a concern.

Upon examination, causes of unintended consequences and accidents can often be attributed to missed steps in a process, which had they been followed would have mitigated or prevented the mishap. Sure, we all make mistakes. But if we take the time to analyze why a mistake was made, we often find it was because of things like hurrying too much, lacking focus, being distracted, or not having enough experience. These flaws almost always mean measures that should have been taken were not taken.

So, to deploy and to use complete checklists consistently makes perfect sense. In fact, the application of step by step lists is considered so best-practice these days that many of our careers can be seen as little more than a requirement to effectively execute a series of predetermined sequential actions. Take a look at almost any job description. It is little more than a laundry list of expected deliverables like a set of boxes to be checked. It could be said that much of our work is therefore formulaic.

To the extent that we reduce our careers to predicable, stringent, and rote to-do rosters, the more accommodating we make our careers for AI replication. Author Ian Leslie makes an interesting observation in a recent Substack piece. Responding to the fear many express about the growth of AI he points out how we assist the machines to adapt to our ways of doing things because we are adapting our work lives to the ways AI works. When human agency is overly systematized we give our replacement instructions to AI which may be better at checking boxes than we humans are.

When we model our work behavior to a simple inventory we should not be surprised when AI mimics it. AI is algorithmic. It uses models and arrangements of variables in a mechanized and calculated way. As we are finding out, AI can out-perform us over a growing number of jobs, especially the jobs that are like checklists. A pertinent quote by artist Robert Irwin in the Ian Leslie piece is, “Human beings living in and through structures become structures living in and through human beings.”

As we determined above, checklists certainly have their place. However, as people we need to look at our work lives as being beyond just an amalgamation of discreet work tasks and responsibilities. To be human, especially in our careers, must be more than that.

Our evolution requires innovation and novelty. It demands an expression of humanity which is an added value above any pre-arranged framework. It seeks to celebrate intuition and ingenuity and even uncertainty. The careers of tomorrow will thrive because they bring a richness of the human experience not easily cloned by a computation.

Romanticism arose in Europe toward the end of the eighteenth century in reaction to the heavy emphasis being culturally placed on rationalism, science, and industrialization. Instead Romanticism insisted on honoring art, music, literature, nature, and the intellectual capacity of the individual. It exulted human emotion and aesthetic experience. Above all, the message of Romanticism was that to be fully human required embracing the wide range of human expression and to not be limited to the mechanized worldview of materialists and rationalists.

The time may be ripe for a neo-Romanticism in the age of AI and checklists. Efficiencies have their place. But let’s not confuse them with being human.

 

 

A Teleological Career

Posted on by Bill Ryan

We all stop and ponder from time to time if the career in which we find ourselves is the right one. This assumes, of course, that one operates from the premise that there is such a thing as the one appropriate career. During these times of disquieting reflection, it may be helpful to reframe the question at hand as to whether our career is contributing to a life of meaning and emotional sustenance. What follows is a consideration taken from philosophy that is along this line of career self-evaluation. 

When examining the history of western philosophy, one does not have to read far before coming upon the concept of teleology. Teleology refers to identifying the purpose underpinning a phenomenon as opposed to seeing effects arise simply because of some mechanistic cause. Teleological designs intentionally try to reach a pre-determined goal. 

We are generally not patient to wait for a chance to produce desirable outcomes, so we maneuver events to reach the results we want. Our careers are hugely important in the amount of time and energy they take, so looking at them through a teleological lens is helpful. 

In ancient times Greek philosophers spoke of the existence of a divinely inspired natural teleology as they attempted to describe the world as they found it. Organic substances were deemed to have inherent purposes, such as Aristoteles’s example of an acorn being intrinsically driven by a sublime force to become an oak tree. Today, science has introduced controversy into thinking of teleology as having a godlike origin. Nevertheless, the notion of purpose as serving a key role in human nature and agency persists in philosophy. 

We can take this stubbornness of teleology to endure in human deliberation to conclude that there is something essentially positive about acting with purpose. Striving to attain a moral objective that brings happiness and satisfaction to oneself is easily and rightfully justified, right? Therefore, directing oneself to choose a career with a clear intention, acting on achieving career proficiency with zeal, and deriving the benefits of career success with joy is a pursuit worth following. 

What I am promoting is simply applying career to living a life of well-being. Or to borrow another phrase from ancient Greek philosophy, a life of eudaimonia, by which is meant to flourish — what the Greeks saw as the ultimate goal of life. Working at a career that is inherently purposeful leaves us feeling more virtuous as a result of our endeavors and that we have identified a higher aspiration worth working for. 

A teleological career is much more than a means of financial remuneration. It means reaching one’s potential. Like Aristoteles’s acorn, we can unfurl ourselves and find self-expression that is deep within our capacity. Feeling whole and thinking that this chosen profession is what we are meant to do energizes and strengthens us. 

Teleology is also involved in the area of business ethics. Acting purposefully is most complete when it involves not just benefiting oneself, but also impacting others in a positive way. Consider the ethics of your career. Are you attempting to provide value for as many as possible, including customers, colleagues, the community, the environment, and all other stakeholders? Such an expansive purpose is more grounded in goodness for a greater number and for yourself. 

Working with purpose sets up a motivational cycle that is internal, self-generated, and nearly effortless. When working toward a higher purpose we find it much less burdensome to gather the strength needed to function. Having desire to operate purposefully comes on more naturally and feeds on itself such that our expended energy is recovered and amplified by our emotional investment to purpose. 

It is natural to wonder if we are doing the proper thing with our work. We should periodically question it and resolve if it is worth it. Applying a teleological approach to assessing our careers can help us to determine career quality. 

Thoughts on Virtue and Character

Posted on by Bill Ryan

Eyes flicker open. Another day dawns. The window reveals the morning sun breaking through what remains of the rain clouds. They have dominated the skies over the past few dreary days. Hope and possibility again seem likely. That familiar spark of energy is again kindled. My mind adjusts by reviewing and making plans with renewed enthusiasm and vigor. It is what gets me to stand up, stretch, and step forward.

This cycle has repeated itself countless times. It has led to much productivity and a feeling of purpose, in large part defining who I am. But today is different. This time the spirit is somewhat muted. A recognition sets in leaving me feeling that this routine has become repetitive and therefore incomplete. There is an urge to make a change—to add value and progress to a life that in many ways has atrophied. I determine to go through the day’s activities, but decide to let run in the background of my mind a self-dialogue and reflection to put meaning to this morning’s elusive sense of scarcity. Today is a day for reflection and growth. I can feel it.

There is an inner drive, a potentiality that propels us to mature, no matter what our age. This force, sometimes referred to as conscience, is our integrity speaking to us. It prods, coaxes, and ultimately compels us to be more than we are. In my personal case, I know I have had ethical lapses, which have been profoundly hurtful to those I love. My awareness of this will not let me forget. When in despair, hope is needed. There is no time better than the present to make good.

Often, we choose to be too busy to listen to our inner voice. Living in a patterned and predictable manner is easier than to change. Change is chilling. Transformation is unstable. However, despite the insecurity of mental and behavioral shifting there comes a time when one just has to face a simple, but profound life truth. Evolution and self-improvement are inherent to who we are. And life becomes richer when we welcome this elementary precept.

Life enhancement and fulfillment is congruent with virtuous living, which is the topic I would like to explore in this essay. As you will see I dig into both personal reflection and some western philosophical thought for direction and guidance in examining this topic.

We all got the message as youngsters to be good. To be good was our first lesson in assimilation to society via our families. Being good and “following the rules” meant we would be more liked, have more friends, get in less trouble, increase our chance of getting into heaven after we die, and so on. The message to be good was most often delivered in a social context, as in our goodness was measured against how good others were. We were either as good as, better than, or worse than our siblings, neighbors, classmates, etc. Being good was meant to please an extensive cast of characters ranging from our parents to God. Rarely however in my youthful experience was being good taught to me as a virtue intended for my own personal edification.

This imperfect concept of goodness from our childhood is played out in our adult lives. It leaves ethical behavior, as important as it is, limited for many to merely a set of regulations and requirements guiding our interactions with each other. The moral precepts underpinning ethics become reduced to standards gleaned from sacred texts designed to bind society into some sort of manageable order. At some fundamental point adopting a virtuous or good life has to be what we do for ourselves, each of us individually, for the simple reason that being good is exalting and noble. We glorify ourselves not merely to bolster our fragile egos, but rather to realize the potential available for us all to live what the ancient Greek philosophers referred to as the eudemonic life—a flourishing life worth living.

I have come to perceive that good is much more than a commonly used adjective, as in the opposite of bad or how we feel at a given time. My current awareness of good as a concept carrying both significant weight and having a transcendent interpretation has been a long time in coming. In short, what I am now beginning to see is that there is good and then there is The Good.

An examination of Plato’s (~423 BCE–~348 BCE) landmark work in the Theory of Forms reveals how an early conception of The Good arose. Developed during the third and fourth centuries BCE, Plato considered the notion that the wide range of physical objects which we observe and comprehend in the world are derivatives of eternal, stable, and universal concepts, which became known as Forms. The Forms are the essences of all matter, substances, common objects, and even human traits, collectively known in this theory as Particulars, which we come to know through our senses and experiences.  For example, the Form or essence of a particular aging and changing dog would be its Dogness, the Form of a particular legal trial with its outcome of innocence or guilt is Justice, and the Form of a lovely work of art would be Beauty. Forms are constant. Particulars are temporal.

Forms have been described by various philosophers as “unqualified perfection”, “real entities of an immaterial sort”, “an objective blueprint of perfection”, “essential natures”, and “the archetypal ideal”. However over time, Plato began to speculate that there must be a relationship among all of these disparate Forms, one which played a unifying function. In his work The Republic, Plato reveals his presumption by introducing the existence of a Form of the Good—a kind of Form of Forms. The Form of the Good was seen as superior to and the source of all other Forms. What we see here is that Plato came to regard an all-encompassing uncorrupted order to the cosmos with morals and virtues as having ascendant qualities best captured in the Form of the Good. It is also not difficult to see how this Platonic vision of the Form of the Good, eventually known simply as The Good, morphed into our current understanding and widespread acceptance of God.

The ancient Greeks began the tradition of constructing a metaphysics of western thought that continues to this day. The prominent philosophers of this time like Plato came to realize there was a central orderliness to the universe. It naturally followed to them that this order was based in propriety and goodness. An organic optimism and positivity about the very nature of the universe has been a fundamental legacy of this philosophical history. To the extent humankind has thrived over the millennia is in large part attributable to this preeminent belief.

Now, a crucial criticism of Plato’s Theory of Forms is not unlike the common charge leveled against a belief in God. If the universe is supported by a core consisting of The Good or God, then what explains evil? Perhaps, The Good or God is not so omnipotent after all given the existence of wickedness. Plato saw two possible explanations for this. One, is that there may be a dualism of orders in the universe, one of goodness and one of evil. However, the more plausible reason for immorality may be due to a privation or lack of goodness in some situations. For example, there is not an ideal or Form of criminality. Crime exists because of a deprivation of goodness in the criminal. In either case, good needs to be summoned or made intentional in order for it to be expressed. Virtue requires effort.

“Life is Good” is a popular contemporary proverb, which may be just a cliché for some, but for others these three unpretentious words zero in on why we bother to choose virtuous living. If we accept that the ordered universe is rooted in essential goodness, then aligning our lives with the righteous nucleus of the universe should be the principled way to act, if we so elect.

Good intentions to live a more eudemonic life are one thing. Executing them is something else. One can decide the time has come in their life to act more virtuously, but determining the best means for realizing such a transition can be very difficult without identifying a clear and unambiguous plan. Again, I call on the philosophical history of western thought for some direction and this time look to Plato’s student, Aristotle.

Aristotle (384 BCE–322 BCE) developed a rich and complex system of philosophical thought covering many areas, including science, government, economics, linguistics, aesthetics, and ethics. For purposes of this essay it is worth noting one of his memorable utilitarian concepts known as the Golden Mean. Aristotle wanted to support people on their journey to becoming virtuous. Foundationally, he claimed that developing virtuous or moral character was more important than practice of any rehearsed set of behaviors or completion of obligatory duties with an expectation of positive consequences. Rather, when faced with a decision about how to proceed with a behavior or thought, virtuous character is cultivated by applying reason to identify the middle ground or mean between two extreme options which are seen as vices.

Aristotle urged us to reason that the extremes in decision making are vices because moral determination is most often bounded by excess and deficiency. To illustrate, a reasonable response to feeling angry is an honorable restraint between fury and anxiety; a morally appropriate encounter with an attractive person would be between lasciviousness and sheepishness; and noble conflict resolution would be the equilibrium between domination and impotence. Ethics is rarely clear-cut or precise. There is no statistical mean. It requires right intent and intellectual reasoning to find that moderate sweet spot. The more practice we have establishing the proper weight between extremes the more proficient we become in producing virtuous actions.

In addition to the counsel provided by Aristotle we can also turn to the Stoics for practical assistance in living virtuously. Stoicism was a school of Greek philosophy constituted during the third century BCE. Its teachings carried into the Roman empire until the emergence of Christianity suppressed it. Interestingly, Stoicism is undergoing a revival in the 21st century western world where it is viewed as an accessible means for finding meaning and purpose in our complex world.

The concrete practicality of Stoicism in terms of learning to live the virtuous life rests on what is known as the Four Cardinal Virtues. As Massimo Pigliucci describes them in his 2017 book How To Be A Stoic they are courage, temperance, justice, and practical wisdom or prudence. All religious or quasi-religious traditions quantify their tenets in sacred listings of one sort or another. The Four Cardinal Virtues codified by the Stoics are an encapsulation of the character formation beliefs developed by the ancient Greeks. The simplicity and elegance of these virtues makes them very attainable for the average person who need not engage in any extensive or esoteric training.

Applying the Stoic’s Four Cardinal Virtues in tandem with Aristotle’s Golden Mean provides the person inclined toward an examined life with a method and resource for strengthening character. This process is likely to cover many of life’s moral predicaments. The approach can be summarized thusly:

  • When life calls for courageous acts to be performed, establishing a right balance between foolhardiness and cowardice is the moral position to take.
  • When life calls for just acts to be performed, establishing a right balance between authoritarianism and leniency is the moral position to take.
  • When life calls for temperate acts to be performed, establishing a right balance between profligacy and asceticism is the moral position to take.
  • When life calls for wise acts to be performed, establishing the right balance between bombast and ignorance is the moral decision to take.

The reader may note that these illustrations are behavioral in nature. This is deliberate. In my judgment, an effective means to reform one’s thoughts and enrich one’s emotions is to advance one’s behavior. Yes, conduct can be compelled by thinking, which is prodded by emotion. It often is. However, I contend the reverse can work as well. Mastering behavior can be the gateway to principled thoughts and a feeling of contentment. In the development of virtuous character and ethical comportment, focusing on how we actually operate can be key.

Today I awaken with hope and confidence. Atonement motivates me as does the realization my continued growth best sustains my unavoidable aging. I am encouraged that an emerging ethical nature calls for my daily engagement. There is solace in relying on an effective paradigm and structure to make this effort self-supportive and meaningful.  When challenges arise, as they inevitably do, I can identify what virtue is called for to address it, whether it be courage, temperament, wisdom, or justice. By resolving which right action to take after an assessment of the extremes I can take another step forward toward better character. Another purposeful day to be gratefully alive dawns brightly.

 

 

 

 

Identifying a Personal Philosophy

Posted on by Bill Ryan

The most precious inheritance that parents can give their children is their own happiness. — Thich Nhat Hanh

Introduction

Deciding on a guiding set of principles to live by with the intention of getting the most from life sounds like a good idea. Perhaps I should say, the idea of experiencing happiness and purpose in life sounds like a good idea. I mean a purpose beyond just feeling good most of the time requires some structure or framework comprised of values, beliefs, and ethics which can provide a life affirming center or grounding while navigating the tempestuous comings and goings of life. Philosophy is a timeless discipline made available to assist those of us interested in such a pursuit.  

There are some who dedicate a lifetime to studying philosophy or the development of thought and knowledge as a guide to behaviors and the very nature of existence. To be sure, philosophy is a grand and historic academic discipline attempting to discern the universe as it is and exploring fundamental questions of how society and individuals should function within it. Unfortunately, as a subject it can quickly appear dense, abstract, and overly general or too specific, leaving a person feeling the topic is irrelevant and lacking in utilizable and concrete meaning. However, there are other philosophers who see their task as helping everyday people formulate their own personal philosophies as a way of self-improvement. Thankfully, philosophy need not be confined to ivory towers. It can also work on the streets, as it were, popularly sowing understanding and progress.

I’m interested in identifying a personal philosophy. Perhaps “identifying” is not the right word. Determining, building, formulating, realizing may be among better terms. Whatever verb I choose the larger question may be, why bother? There are a couple of reasons to bother. For one, philosophy, which literally means “love of wisdom”, is becoming more meaningful to me. Gratefully, I notice I’m getting wiser as I age, so peering more intentionally into the nature of wisdom is intriguing. Also, speaking of age, I recognize how the mind turns to a life review as we get older. Socrates sternly declared that an unexamined life is not worth living. Though a bit harsh, he makes a good point. Reflecting on how life is and has been lived shines a revealing light which can be useful in cultivating gratitude, personal growth, forgiveness, and a range of necessary corrective actions.

A lifetime of interest in politics, history, and psychology leaves me feeling incomplete. As engaging as they are, these disciplines do not provide enough guidance on how to live a good life. I’m drawn to exploring a more fundamental structure that better explains not only why I’ve lived as I have and what now makes me tick, but more importantly how I can prevail more satisfactorily during the years I have left.

I realize also, as late in the game as it is, that not being guided by clear moral standards and values can leave one unprepared or worse when the inevitable ethical dilemmas present themselves as they do in the lives of everyone. Simply saying one is ‘spiritual’ or ‘always kind’ or ‘being the best person I can be’ may not be enough to safeguard against damaging choices. Many of us find it easier to reject the advice of others than it is to replace their caring words of caution with a legitimate and bona fide set of convictions passionately embraced. I believe the younger one is in accepting this personal challenge of crafting a personal philosophy the better one’s life can be. I wish I could claim this had been my path, but alas I cannot.

Influential Philosophies

Identifying a personal philosophy is a luxury we now have given the times in which we live. Not long ago people were routinely born into a religious tradition complete with a step-by-step prescription for how to live one’s life and what pre-determined principles to value. Along with this inherited creed came the unambiguous and strict message that no questioning of precepts was necessary or welcome. This arrangement works well for those who readily accept faith and the infallibility of traditional thought, but for others who want to associate empirical evidence with conviction or inquire about the efficacy of applying old solutions to new problems, religion can be seen as deficient, if not oppressive.

Like most people my age, I was brought with a traditional religion. In my case, Roman Catholicism. As a child we often do as we’re told and attending church each Sunday morning followed by religious training or catechism after school each Monday afternoon is what I did until I was about twelve years old. Although it was far from a rapturous experience, rebelliousness toward this regimen was never a consideration. Indeed, by the end of this church-based indoctrination I wanted to explore the possibility of becoming a Catholic priest. One evening, when we were thirteen years old, my friend John and I scheduled an early evening chat with our parish priest Father Champoux to ask him how we could go about getting started with becoming priests. He didn’t hesitate to tell us that this is not something we should do. In fact, he was rather firm about it. Such was the start of my drift from the Catholic Church.

Despite not having been a practicing Catholic for the past fifty-four years or so I nevertheless need to acknowledge that the influence and teachings of the church for those first dozen years of my existence shaped much of my lifetime’s practical philosophy. Leaving behind for the time being the repressive and dictatorial manner in which Catholicism presented itself to children in the 1960s, (and no, I never experienced sexual abuse) I can humbly say there were indeed principles which were imparted to me by priests, nuns, and brothers, which I took to heart. Chief among them was a reverence for service to others. The call to reach into our benevolent hearts to serve our fellow humans—the sick, the weak, the uneducated, the elderly, the needy—is of profound spiritual and social importance. In addition, growing up around a lot of Jesuits as I did, who are members of a religious order known for their work in education, research, and cultural endeavors, gave me an appreciation for intellectual pursuits. Also, even the atheists among us have to concede that the social and interpersonal order society relies upon has many of its roots in old-time religion. For this, we can all be thankful.

So while acknowledging the importance Christian religion had in my early psychological, moral, and philosophical development I do not hesitate in declaring that adhering to a Christian tradition is insufficient for me to use in identifying my personal philosophy. I understand this is a brash and probably disrespectful declaration to make toward a religion currently practiced by nearly two and a half billion people. While not entirely dismissing the religious who claim their faith has all of the philosophy one needs with the added benefit of providing deeper levels of meaning and an exhilarating sense of amazement, I still ask why shouldn’t Christian teachings be enough for me? Why am I so special that Christian doctrine appears lacking? Quite simply, this religion, or any religion for that matter, is too doctrinaire, too obstinate, too pedantic, and too authoritarian. I may have been raised as a Catholic, but I was also raised as an American with a reverence for free will, individualism, and self-reliance. From a young adult age I noticed a discrepancy between the values of unquestioning faith required by religion and volitional decision making encouraged by democracy. I guess the liberating ethics of the Enlightenment appeal to me more than dogmatic loyalty to ancient rituals and scriptures.

So knowing which path I don’t want to follow exclusively in defining my personal philosophy, where do I turn? Well, the answer is a developing story. But it is taking shape. And one thing becoming clear is my personal philosophy will be eclectic—a cherry picked collection of values I find to be most gainful. There are so many intriguing and engaging approaches to philosophical thought it will be difficult and perhaps unnatural for me to select just one school. Therefore, what follows is a review of influential philosophies toward which I am drawn. Following my synopsis and in conclusion, I will cobble together a statement giving definition and clarity to my personal philosophy. An exercise such as this not only applies a strategy to help me reach my goal of identifying a personal philosophy, but may also serve as a stimulus or maybe even an inspiration for any reader interested in doing the same.

“There is no need for temples; no need for complicated philosophy. Our own brain, our own heart is our temple; the philosophy is kindness.” H. H. The 14th Dalai Lama.

Next to Christianity, Buddhism is the next popular practice with which I also have familiarity going back more than thirty years. Notice I don’t refer to Buddhism as a religion, although many others do. I don’t because there is no theism involved. Buddha never claimed to be a deity or divine, but rather a human who showed the way to enlightenment. That fact alone appeals to many westerners oriented toward secularization, but who are nevertheless searching for spiritual and ethical guidance. Therein was my original draw to Buddhism.

Through considerable study and practice, much of it during my thirties in association with the Friends of the Western Buddhist Order (now known as Triratna Buddhist Order), I developed some key takeaways, which continue to inform my philosophical thinking and outlook on the world. The concepts of mindfulness, impermanence, and egolessness speak to me about the nature of being human in the universe dealt to us. To be very clear, I am in no way making a claim I am anywhere close to fully comprehending these theories, never mind living in embrace of them, however I know enough that to examine their meaning and appreciate their gravity contributes to personal growth and evolution.

Mindfulness refers to being fully aware. Imagine receiving all of the unending physical and mental stimuli coming your way such that it is all perceived and observed, perhaps understood, but never fixated upon unless we make a discerning decision to focus on a given prompt. Living thus is beyond efficient. It is honing circumspection and polishing self-illumination. Meditation is one of the behaviors, along with intentional reflection, that slides us ever so slowly toward increasing mindfulness. A frustratingly subtle practice, meditation yields its attention-enhancing benefits drip by drip over a long period of time. Establishing a regular practice is difficult, but once started the seduction of always returning to it remains persistent. The gain of expanding mindfulness is worth it.

Another key Buddhist concept states that reality is ever changing and our clinging to any physical or mental entity is fruitless and ultimately deeply disappointing. Impermanence is a fundamental doctrine of Buddhism and a very useful condition to accept in life. Existence is “transient, evanescent, inconstant” according to the Pali Canon, a set of Buddhist scriptures. Notice how we tie our happiness to permanence all of the time? We develop a fondness or even love for people, places, and ideas only to discover sooner or later that they will somehow change or end completely, leading to angst. Preventing change takes a lot of energy that could be better spent elsewhere. By consciously de-linking our positive emotions to conditions which will naturally alter over time leaves us better able to live in harmony with others and with the natural world. If we are to deliberately align our happiness to impermanent objects and people, such as loved ones, doing so with the full consciousness of what the commitment entails, in particular its transitoriness, can help with preparing for the inevitable changes that will take place.

Related to impermanence in Buddhism is the doctrine of no-self or no-ego. We tend to each view ourselves as fixed and permanent individuals—at least for the duration of our lives. But this self-perception of our stand-alone selfhood is in direct conflict with the notion of impermanence described above. In other words, if there are no enduring and unchanging entities, then there can be no distinct and original self. Ego or self are therefore illusory and not real. Thinking this way can get abstruse and confusing, because it is so contrary to what we’ve always thought. Regardless, for me the importance of egolessness is that it helps me to not be as self-centered and set in my ways. By being able to take the focus off of myself with all of my opinions, desires, prejudices, fears, and perceptions I can more easily reorient to the needs of others and more clearly know that what I think I know today can and will most likely change over time. Together, mindfulness, impermanence, and egolessness contribute significantly to my personal philosophy.

Allowing myself to accept philosophical wisdom from the East, as I did with Buddhism, opened the door for me to examine other traditions from Asia. I have not dealt nearly as extensively with these other well established philosophies and my takeaways do not reflect the richness of these schools of thought, however two heritages stand out as relevant in my search for a philosophy of life. 

One is Confucianism. In the West, the philosophy of China’s Confucius (551 BCE–479 BCE) is associated primarily with an adherence to filial piety, or duty to and respect for one’s family and ancestors. Such devotion is actually a subset of a more comprehensive belief in the virtue of loving relationships with other people. How we develop character and usher in the good life is directly the result of the quality of how we interact with others, specifically the degree to which each of us practices benevolence, or caring deeply for all human beings. Also of note is righteousness or the building of personal integrity that avoids ethical breaches. Therefore, establishing nourishing and considerate relationships is the core to a Confucian philosophy of life.

The other intriguing Eastern practice is Taoism (often spelled Daoism). This philosophical system developed in China as well and is associated with the thoughts and writings of Lao Tzu, who is believed to have lived during a time of great turmoil known as the Warring States Period. Taoism prompts us to accept that uncertainty is prevalent in life and therefore to be careful about forming rigid assumptions about how life should play out. Flexibility, agility, and resilience are key attitudes to develop as we navigate through life’s ambiguities. We are called on to acknowledge that order is naturally accompanied by disorder, as is stability/fluctuation, sameness/change, control/disarray, etc. Wisdom and the good life emerge from our skill in self-regulation given these conditions. As Voltaire said, “Doubt is an uncomfortable condition, but certainty is a ridiculous one.”

It shouldn’t come as a surprise, but the ancient West also offers us philosophical traditions. Several years ago I ran into the philosophy of Stoicism and I like a lot of what I am seeing. I think I can guess what you are now thinking. So, he wants to be stoic— impassive, aloof, detached, and sporting a stiff upper lip. Unfortunately, common English usage has corralled and limited the meaning of stoicism. In the context of philosophy there is much more to it. Thanks to Massimo Pigliucci, an author and philosophy professor at City College of New York, who I have seen and heard on a number of podcasts, I’ve been introduced to this ancient Greco-Roman philosophy. Several features stood out to me quickly. Firstly, paying homage to a philosophy from the West instead of the East for a change seems refreshing and balanced. Secondly, one can take simplicity and pragmatism from Stoicism, making it applicable in the short term without years of concentrated study. Finally, Stoicism openly admits to being a means for unearthing a eudaimonic life, by which is meant a flourishing life worth living.

Stoicism began with Zeno of Citium in Greece about 300 BCE. In time, many of its  principles were incorporated into early Christian teachings in Rome. There are two key foundational ideas underpinning Stoicism: one precept makes clear the necessity for everyone to become a moral person and the other pertains to a concept known as dichotomy of control. Regarding morality, an individual is encouraged to engage in a persistent practice of the four cardinal virtues — Prudence or always choosing the right course of action; Justice or seeking fairness at all times; Temperance or moderation and self-control; and Fortitude or strength and endurance. By practicing these four easy to understand virtues, as difficult as they may be to put into continuous practice, one can achieve a moral status. Dichotomy of control refers simply to knowing what one can control in life and what one cannot. This idea can best be summarized by the Serenity Prayer composed by the American theologian Reinhold Niebuhr in 1934, “God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, courage to change the things I can, and wisdom to know the difference.”  Stoicism offers us a practical philosophical method that seems well suited for these times.

For many years I have personally thought of myself as a Secular Humanist. This has been a thought, but until recently without much thinking behind it. Secular Humanism, which I’ll capitalize because in this essay I’m using it as a discreet philosophy, is a good fallback position for those of us who are not religious, but still recognize value in morality, social structure, personal responsibility, and that ethereal assumption of spirituality. Those of us who are hesitant to join a club of any kind can find in Secular Humanism latitude to explore deep life issues minus membership into a creed or persuasion.

Secular refers to a preference for non-religious institutions, such as government, as the most just way of organizing society. Humanism indicates the significance of humans ability to apply reason and morals to satisfy human needs sans divine or mystical intervention or origin. Together these terms stress religion not having a monopoly on morality or ethics; the preeminence of individual liberty and human derived ethical standards; and a reliance on science and reason for understanding the universe; among other core beliefs. Development of righteous character matters to Secular Humanists, leading to suggested ethical practices for personal refinement. The principles of this philosophy can guide a person to create a life of meaning and purpose, free of religious dogma.

There are many philosophical influences one can investigate in order to identify a personal philosophy. I have described the key points to some of these schools of thought, which to date have had great influence on me. However, there are other philosophies which I have come across more recently that have piqued my interest and which call to me for further contemplation as I consider my own personal philosophy. What follows are summaries of these philosophies defined with an emphasis on the principal features of each that I find most intriguing.

Above, in the section on Stoicism, I mentioned that the Stoic maxim leading to a moral life is to follow the four cardinal virtues. Pretty straight forward. But then comes along Aristotelianism, a philosophy developed by, you guessed it, Aristotle, and we find him pushing back on the Stoics’ simplicity by putting forward a concept of moral relativism. And this in the third century BCE!

Aristotelianism is largely about interpreting eudaimonism (a flourishing life worth living) through a focus on balancing virtue with realism and reason. Aristotle shunned philosophical dictates that were too prescriptive. He chose broader objectives for people to consider such as living to one’s full potential, capitalizing on one’s strengths, and accomplishing one’s chosen goals. Most importantly, he chose promotion of a balanced life as more meaningful than a narrowly specified moral life. For example, frequent drinking to excess can be considered intemperate and therefore immoral. But what if one were to drink modestly most weeks and splurge for a special occasion like a wedding reception? Despite the hangover the next day was the person immoral? No, would say Aristotle. He had a good time, possibly rekindled old friendships, and did no one harm. Give him a break. Overall, our party boy may very well live a balanced and quite possibly a virtuous life, despite an occasional overindulgence. Moderation leads to greater happiness and health for more people than does strict adherence to rigid rules according to Aristotelianism. 

This notion of realism in philosophy is also evident in the American philosophy known as Pragmatism. Nineteenth and twentieth century American philosophers/writers, attempted to define and give utility to freedom and free will for a population that had won political freedom during the American Revolution, but was still trying to figure out what to do with liberty at a personal level. They saw that a great deal of life is making it up as you go along, which can leave many feeling adrift. Freedom to choose can be both a blessing and a curse. Figuring out how to make lives worth living within an inherently unsettled world is slippery going. Absolute values can appear inordinately elusive and abstract, leaving reverent dictates impractical and unworkable. Perhaps the best we can do in an existence that leaves us free, but with constraints, is what Pragmatists Charles Peirce and William James advocated—just make one’s world better by pursuing beauty, truth, and goodness. (My apologies to committed Pragmatists for the oversimplification.) 

Freedom also plays a significant role in the European-born philosophy known as Existentialism. In fact, as Jean-Paul Sartre put it, we are “condemned to be free”. We didn’t ask for this life, but now that we’ve been given it let’s embrace our freedom to generate the best life possible through our choice of actions. However, while doing so, we need to be cognizant of several parameters: constructing a personal essence is ongoing and fluid and ends the day we die; with freedom comes responsibility for others, because we aren’t in this alone; and there’s much about life we can’t change, but we can always strive to be authentically true to ourselves. Existentialism is intentionally non-didactic and wary of conventional behaviors. Rather, it’s a license to be fully expressive during a life that may be short, but need not be boring or oppressive. Happiness and the good life come from continuous reflection on how to find meaning in life while being our own person.

You may find here a variety of philosophy that isn’t very complicated at all. In fact, much of it can seem like common sense. To illustrate philosophical simplicity and straightforwardness there is the Effective Altruism movement. Perhaps Effective Altruism can best be thought of as a moral system or framework. Effective Altruism calls for each person to discover for themselves what significant problem there is in the world that they can make a meaningful contribution toward solving. This may involve targeting charitable donations, working toward policy changes, or directly assisting those in need. The goal is to be an agent of change and improvement. It’s concrete, measurable, and principled. All that is needed is a willingness to make the world better than you found it. Not a bad commitment to make with one’s life. (I think I can hear the ghost of Ayn Rand groaning.)

Finally, who says philosophy doesn’t have a sense of humor and a party side? Such is the reputation of the ancient philosophy of Epicureanism. A while back I mentioned how the word stoic has been undeservedly confined by popular usage in English. The same holds true for the term epicureanism. We think of it solely as a reference to the pursuit of sensual pleasure, particularly when it comes to food and wine. This impression should be no more than a starting point for a richer philosophy that speaks to a fuller cultivation of happiness and the good life.

Epicureanism is something of the bad boy of philosophies, given the religious ascetic and Platonic-based rationalism biases against pleasure, which together hold philosophical dominance. Epicurus (341 BCE-270 BCE) was dedicated to helping people live happy and serene lives free of fear. He established the foundation for this approach to be found in nature, both in the natural world and in human nature. At its essence, nature expresses blossoming, flourishing, and unfolding. We can embrace these properties as a guide to life choices which strengthen delight and contentment. Relishing the simple joys that nourish body and mind, savoring the company of friends, and making the most of every minute of this one life we have is the practice of Epicureanism. As the Epicurean Frances Wright wrote in 1821, “Enjoy, and be happy! Do you doubt the way? Let Epicurus be your guide. The source of every enjoyment is within yourselves.”

My Personal Philosophy

I see myself as practical and therefore outcome oriented. It is important that I know why I would bother expending time and energy on any pursuit. The intended end result must hold value. So, with that in mind, I choose to engage in writing a personal philosophy, because I expect in doing so I will expand my personal happiness and find contentment in having a life purpose to guide me during my final years.

Living a philosophy involves reason, contemplation, reflection, and decision making. These thoughts are experienced, felt, and colored by emotions. What necessarily follows are corresponding actions and behaviors. I conduct and judge myself through a continual assessment of my performance or interactions with other people, the natural world, and the competing selves within me. But, it’s what I do that matters most.

Philosophy is a conceptual structure. The technical components of this structure provide its essence and substance. We are each free to construct our own philosophical framework. Our building blocks are the values which we endorse and embrace and the order and weight we assign to these standards. For myself, my goal is to shape a philosophy that reflects the principles I hold as sacrosanct and which I will cobble together in such an idiosyncratic way as to possibly satisfy no one else but me. And that’s okay.

Here I present my personal philosophy as a medley of principles to live by.

Relations with others are to be compassionate, caring, respectful, and sensitive to needs.

“To serve, not to be served.” Such was my high school’s motto. I continue to take it to heart.

My center is in me. My center is in you.

Living introspectively and mindfully informs how I will channel my energy and how I will preserve my physical and mental health.

Nature is my guide. Nature is my rhythm.

Remain agile and accept change. Resist change only when very clear-eyed.

Do the hard things like: Adopt uncertainty; Meditate; Breathe through anxious moments; Trust in life’s brightness.

Bask in the love of family.

Morality is always a worthy aspiration.

Remorse for past transgressions is a natural part of life’s review. Don’t shy away from past sins. Own them. Learn from them. Move on better.

Find solace in the righteousness of secularism.

Be balanced, measured, and moderate in all things.

Savor my freedom and individualism daily.

Don’t hesitate to be generous.

Feel grateful and delight in pleasures large and small that life offers…always.