Today was our class's first debate. We argued the problem of change in the context of two philosophers' views: Heraclitus and Parmenides. I argued for Parmenides. It was a great learning experience for me--the first time I had participated in a real debate. I had done seminars before, but never such an intense debate where I had to be so quick on my feet.
If I were Heraclitus, I would have targeted Parmenides on Darwin. Darwin's theory of evolution, published in his most famous work, On the Origin of Species, describes a theory of natural selection, of adaptation and descent. In the scientific world, this theory is widely believed to be true. Animals, humans, plants: we are all adapting. Single mutations in our genetics become widespread and will eventually affect the entire population, such as opposable thumbs. Can we live well without them? Not really. BAM--beneficial mutation. Heraclitus's view that everything changes is supported by Darwin's theory. Everything changes, everything evolves. It is so hard for me to see Parmenides's side of this argument.
How can things be permanent if everything I do is controlled by change?
Monday, September 26, 2011
Thursday, September 22, 2011
Fear: the force that drives us
Today in class we talked about fear and the differences between the philosophy of Hume and Descartes. Descartes is a rationalist and Hume is an empiricist. We discussed the power of fear. Is it the strongest emotion? I don't think it is, but I think it is the second strongest.
As I said in class, I was always an anxious child, scared of fire, accidents, thunderstorms, and dying. And today those anxieties have declined a bit, but I still feel their presence. Today I am still afraid of dying, but not because I am scared of the unknown. I fear dying early before I can experience the entirety of the world and its people. Perhaps in this way I relate to Hume. I fear the loss of experience. Fear itself is an experience, a choking and icy permeating dread that fills you up until your limbs are heavy and restless. But fear is important. It drives us forward, protects us in many cases, and allows us to contextualize our lives. Fear, however, can be destructive if we cannot find a rationalizing line to draw. It can hurt us, drive us mad with irrational thoughts and catastrophic, unreasonable thinking.
Fear is powerful, but it is manageable. There must be a perfect balance between feeling and reason, a marriage of sensation and rationalism.
As I said in class, I was always an anxious child, scared of fire, accidents, thunderstorms, and dying. And today those anxieties have declined a bit, but I still feel their presence. Today I am still afraid of dying, but not because I am scared of the unknown. I fear dying early before I can experience the entirety of the world and its people. Perhaps in this way I relate to Hume. I fear the loss of experience. Fear itself is an experience, a choking and icy permeating dread that fills you up until your limbs are heavy and restless. But fear is important. It drives us forward, protects us in many cases, and allows us to contextualize our lives. Fear, however, can be destructive if we cannot find a rationalizing line to draw. It can hurt us, drive us mad with irrational thoughts and catastrophic, unreasonable thinking.
Fear is powerful, but it is manageable. There must be a perfect balance between feeling and reason, a marriage of sensation and rationalism.
Friday, September 16, 2011
The Crushing, Liberating Silence
Today was really hard. Really hard. It wasn't just hard to find silence, but it was hard to welcome it. I did find peace of mind, but only for a fraction of the 18 minutes of quiet in class today. But I cannot recall those moments of quiet; I just know I had them. That's the beauty of it all. Quiet is attainable, but it is so profound that it is near impossible to remember. For this reason we need to make quiet not something we strive for momentarily, but something we live with, continuously and eternally.
I am very thankful for today's class. It brought me to many realizations. I live with tremendous pressure, but it is pressure put upon me by nobody else but myself. While sitting there among silence, my mind ran through my responsibilities: assignments, SAT, college applications, field hockey practice, extracurricular activities, extended essay. Then my mind ran through my fears: not getting in to my dream school, disappointing my teachers and parents, not being able to continuously learn and discover. These fears and responsibilities, coupled with a wrenching internal struggle, lead to my greatest, harshest dread: getting lost. Losing that purpose, that quiet scares me so much. Walking out of that class, I began to cry because I sensed that fear slowly and surely becoming manifest. It hasn't yet, but at times it is dangerously close.
During General's Period, I met Manon in the hall and she let me weep into her arms. She, along with my other six best friends, have kept me hopeful. They have found me, and with them by my side I know I can never be lost. I am, with them, part of a family based on true, wholehearted, beautiful love, respect, and dependence. We carry each others' burdens--and there are many--but together we are stronger, a unit, a team. When I write, they read. When I play a hockey game, they inquire about how I did. When I look sad, they are always there for me. When I accomplish something, they rejoice along with me. When I'm happy, they absorb my joy and augment it.
In a way the knowledge that I was in danger of losing myself was what caused the tears today. But it was also something else. It was the knowledge that there are people who care about me, who will be my companions as I run, skip, drag myself, cry, laugh, jump, and sing my way through.
After all, the mind is a person's greatest asset. Whether you choose for it to be a burden or a gift is the difference between a miserable and insightful existence.
Thank you, Mr. Summers. Today was invaluable.
I am very thankful for today's class. It brought me to many realizations. I live with tremendous pressure, but it is pressure put upon me by nobody else but myself. While sitting there among silence, my mind ran through my responsibilities: assignments, SAT, college applications, field hockey practice, extracurricular activities, extended essay. Then my mind ran through my fears: not getting in to my dream school, disappointing my teachers and parents, not being able to continuously learn and discover. These fears and responsibilities, coupled with a wrenching internal struggle, lead to my greatest, harshest dread: getting lost. Losing that purpose, that quiet scares me so much. Walking out of that class, I began to cry because I sensed that fear slowly and surely becoming manifest. It hasn't yet, but at times it is dangerously close.
During General's Period, I met Manon in the hall and she let me weep into her arms. She, along with my other six best friends, have kept me hopeful. They have found me, and with them by my side I know I can never be lost. I am, with them, part of a family based on true, wholehearted, beautiful love, respect, and dependence. We carry each others' burdens--and there are many--but together we are stronger, a unit, a team. When I write, they read. When I play a hockey game, they inquire about how I did. When I look sad, they are always there for me. When I accomplish something, they rejoice along with me. When I'm happy, they absorb my joy and augment it.
In a way the knowledge that I was in danger of losing myself was what caused the tears today. But it was also something else. It was the knowledge that there are people who care about me, who will be my companions as I run, skip, drag myself, cry, laugh, jump, and sing my way through.
After all, the mind is a person's greatest asset. Whether you choose for it to be a burden or a gift is the difference between a miserable and insightful existence.
Thank you, Mr. Summers. Today was invaluable.
Thursday, September 15, 2011
Constructing the World
What I believe philosophy strives for most is unity. Some sort of unity of the mind and spirit. A unified understanding of purpose. A question of why?
Today in class we talked a lot about the concept of a "world." What exactly constitutes a world? For the most part we agreed with Kant's idea of das Ding an sich - the thing as perceived by oneself. Basically, most people thought that every person constructs their own world in their life and strive to build up their world. Everyone, through perception, has a uniquely different world. But there is something bigger--Hegel's Weltgeist. What if the world spirit is not the evolution of accumulated knowledge reaching a finality. What if the spirit of the world is every person's own life and own world, combined in a beautiful manifestation of humanity.
The human spirit and the human experience, coupled with the magnificence and splendor of nature, create the ultimate world spirit.
Today in class we talked a lot about the concept of a "world." What exactly constitutes a world? For the most part we agreed with Kant's idea of das Ding an sich - the thing as perceived by oneself. Basically, most people thought that every person constructs their own world in their life and strive to build up their world. Everyone, through perception, has a uniquely different world. But there is something bigger--Hegel's Weltgeist. What if the world spirit is not the evolution of accumulated knowledge reaching a finality. What if the spirit of the world is every person's own life and own world, combined in a beautiful manifestation of humanity.
The human spirit and the human experience, coupled with the magnificence and splendor of nature, create the ultimate world spirit.
Wednesday, September 14, 2011
From Serenity to Reality
Today in class we went on a walk with earplugs in. This heightened my sense of sight; I walked slowly and absorbed all of my surroundings with eagerness. My partner and I pointed out objects of visual pleasure to us, such as trees and houses. We reached a small park and sat and lay in the grass while wearing a blindfold. The serenity was astounding. With no sense of sight or sound, I relied completely on my sense of touch. I even dozed off a bit.
When I returned to the conscious reality of day to day school life, I was immediately confronted with a panicked situation. Apparently, I had left my car keys in my car this morning, as one friend told me during Generals' Period. I started to, for lack of a better word, "freak out" and run around the school in a frenzy. They weren't in my car and my friend hadn't picked them up. My mind started racing with all the awful scenarios: Would someone steal the car--my parents' car?! Would I be stuck at school forever? What will my mom think? Would she trust me with such a responsibility again? I sprinted down to the office's Lost and Found...and there they were. Wonderful and silver. It was such a contrast to the beautiful peace of third period.
The unfortunate reality of life is reality. No matter how hard you try to create a peaceful, meditative space; life always comes back to panic you out of it.
When I returned to the conscious reality of day to day school life, I was immediately confronted with a panicked situation. Apparently, I had left my car keys in my car this morning, as one friend told me during Generals' Period. I started to, for lack of a better word, "freak out" and run around the school in a frenzy. They weren't in my car and my friend hadn't picked them up. My mind started racing with all the awful scenarios: Would someone steal the car--my parents' car?! Would I be stuck at school forever? What will my mom think? Would she trust me with such a responsibility again? I sprinted down to the office's Lost and Found...and there they were. Wonderful and silver. It was such a contrast to the beautiful peace of third period.
The unfortunate reality of life is reality. No matter how hard you try to create a peaceful, meditative space; life always comes back to panic you out of it.
Tuesday, September 13, 2011
Philosophy of a Writer
Today in class we had our second seminar on Sophie's World by Jostein Gaarder. We discussed the advantage of Albert writing a novel for his daughter instead of telling her the history of philosophy instead. I love novels, and clearly Hilde does too. Using a novel as a tool to learning about philosophy seems perfect to me, but the novel was very inconclusive (at least Hilde's version). Her book ends with Sophie and Alberto escaping the garden party. That's it. We, luckily, get to read about their time in the "real" world.
What if characters live on after we finish reading? Do Harry Potter, Jane Eyre, and Peter Pan stop "living" after the cover closes? What about the characters in my head, the ones I created? When I don't think about them, do they move, breathe, think? I really hope so. For me as a writer, I let my characters find me. I cannot create people; I encounter them. I absolutely adore the process of meeting these new people and slowly, through my interaction with them, discover who they truly are. This is why I love to write, and this is why I enjoyed the last part of Sophie's story. I believe Albert Knag knew that Sophie would escape the bounds of the novel. He knew Sophie was there that night at the bay. He knew because he believed in his characters. He believed that they had a mind of their own. His imagination took on an imagination.
Do not underestimate characters. They live longer than you do.
What if characters live on after we finish reading? Do Harry Potter, Jane Eyre, and Peter Pan stop "living" after the cover closes? What about the characters in my head, the ones I created? When I don't think about them, do they move, breathe, think? I really hope so. For me as a writer, I let my characters find me. I cannot create people; I encounter them. I absolutely adore the process of meeting these new people and slowly, through my interaction with them, discover who they truly are. This is why I love to write, and this is why I enjoyed the last part of Sophie's story. I believe Albert Knag knew that Sophie would escape the bounds of the novel. He knew Sophie was there that night at the bay. He knew because he believed in his characters. He believed that they had a mind of their own. His imagination took on an imagination.
Do not underestimate characters. They live longer than you do.
Monday, September 12, 2011
First Post
Hello all (aka Mr. Summers)--
I am really excited for this philosophy course this year. I will try to post as much as possible even though I love class discussions :)
Today we did a blindfold exercise. My partner, Jasmine, led me through the school, parking lot, and up the Oakgrove park hill. To be honest, it was truly terrifying, especially around stairs and on the street. To have my vision cut off in that way heightened my other senses; I hadn't truly appreciated my ability of sight until today. Guiding Jasmine second, I knew what she was going through, except I felt so awful for getting her feet wet at the stream!
Here's to a great, philosophical year!
I am really excited for this philosophy course this year. I will try to post as much as possible even though I love class discussions :)
Today we did a blindfold exercise. My partner, Jasmine, led me through the school, parking lot, and up the Oakgrove park hill. To be honest, it was truly terrifying, especially around stairs and on the street. To have my vision cut off in that way heightened my other senses; I hadn't truly appreciated my ability of sight until today. Guiding Jasmine second, I knew what she was going through, except I felt so awful for getting her feet wet at the stream!
Here's to a great, philosophical year!
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