Kant's Ethics

I was really intrigued by Kant's ethics. Most of the time, when confronted with an ethical dilemma, I ask myself, "What should I do?" The reading, however, states that Kant does not focus on this question, but rather the one that discusses what a person should do in the face of temptations, like a man tempted to commit adultery. But what if you are not tempted. What if you are merely dumbfounded as to what to do? What if you are torn in half and do not know which way to go, are not tempted in a certain direction? Surely there are choices like that as well.

I really liked the section about the reasons we think about ethics. Wolff says that they are 1) to discover an absolutely certain proof of the moral principles that we are already convinced are true. 2) we don't know what is right. 3) the search for the good life. I am a bit confused about what the good life really means. The book states that the good life "combines virtue and happiness in true human fulfillment," but what is that really? I want to live a good life, but to do that do you not have to be able to solve hard cases and be happy with your decision? Because I feel I would be unhappy with any hard case solution, because a hard case is hard because the solution is not perfect. How can life then be truly good? It confuses me.

I Ching Translation and Interpretation

My question that I asked the I Ching was whether or not I should quit the school play. I asked this for a numerous amount of reasons. Firstly, quitting would free up my schedule immensely. I would be able to do all my work, study, tutor, and actually have free time for the first time in a long time. There is so much I would do with that time--relax, read for fun, catch up on months of sleep deprivation. It would be the healthier choice for me, especially in light of recent health slip-ups. Secondly, I asked because quitting would also mean leaving my last possible show with a theatre department whose quirks and bonds I have grown to love. I have been very conflicted this past week, and I was hoping the I Ching would be able to shed light on where I should go.

My first hexagram came out to be number 15 (Ch'ien / Modesty). The translation speaks of how a modest man goes through with his commitments. "The superior man can carry out his work to the end without boasting of what he has achieved." This suggests that I should go through with the play, that I should stick to what I have decided to do and carry it through to the end. The translation goes on to describe the image of modesty and how the "superior man reduces that which is too much." Well, in this case, maybe I shouldn't do the play. The play may be too much for me, and a modest person would strike a reasonable balance, according to the translation. The third line's translation states: "A superior man of modesty and merit carries things to conclusion." This again suggests that I should go through with the play. Basically, this hexagram is confusing me further. What is the I Ching suggesting I do? And how do I do it?

My second hexagram is number 52 (Kên / Keeping Still, Mountain). This signifies what I am moving towards. It sheds light on the modesty hexagram. The translation states that the stillness a man may strive for is similar to that of a mountain and focuses on the "problem of achieving a quiet heart." I interpret the stillness as stillness of mind and body. I have not had that in a very long time, and only through quitting will I get that. Since this hexagram sheds light on the first, I think the first one is telling me to "reduce that which is too much." This is the appropriate path to take, I think. Well, I will see next week whether or not the I Ching has proven to be true.

Qi Gong Reflection

On Friday our class underwent the Qi Gong meditation. It was led by a Chinese meditation master who was taped over by someone explaining the directions in English. At first, I was really into the meditation. I closed my eyes, raised my hands, and participated. With time, however, it got harder. I began to look out the corners of my eyes to see if others were struggling; they were. It was very difficult. I was very impressed by a couple of people, especially Mr. Summers and Alex. They were able, I think, to truly enter the Qi Gong meditative state. I admire them for that. So much of me wanted to succeed, but I just couldn't do it this time. Maybe it takes practice. I was however, able to find peace in the silence, broken only by the voice of the meditation master, telling me to take deep breaths. I did.

Poesia Eres Tu

¿Qué Es Poesía?

¿Qué es poesía?, dices mientras clavas
En mi pupila tu pupila azul.

¡Qué es poesía! ¿Y tú me lo preguntas?
Poesía eres tú.

The Sublime

After days and days of discussion in class of various philosophers and their views of the sublime, I have finally come to my own realization of what the sublime is.

For Edmund Burke, it is the "aim of art." He discusses the astonishment that sublimity in art supplies without fear. Kant reiterates this, saying that the sublime "allows us to remain without fear in a state of security." Kant splits the sublime into mathematical and dynamical categories, the first affecting our perception and the other the power we have in relation to that piece of art.

I was unsure about what art piece to use from the field trip, but after rereading the information on Kant and Burke I decided that I needed to write about something from The Evolving Universe exhibit at the Natural History Museum. Those pieces, pictures of our galaxies and galaxies light years away, are art in its most raw and powerful form: the beautiful and sublime universe.

My Song - "For You"

I know it has been a while since we performed our own songs for the class, but this song assignment made me reflect back on the creative process of writing and singing my song ("For You") for the class.

Writing my own song was a deeply aesthetic and personal experience. I incorporated my idea of beauty into the song. The song was written, despite the title, for not one person in particular, but rather for whoever would be willing to listen to me at the time. My philosophy is very simple: Life is a song, enjoy the melody, do not be afraid of death. It is a beautiful, inevitable phase of living. The beauty of life is the fact that it is finite, but we are unique contributor's to the novel of Earth.

"Let the Sun Shine In"

When I was a little girl, I would lock myself in the basement, turn on the Hair soundtrack, and dance. Just dance. I must have been nine years old. I didn’t know what many of the lyrics meant (which is probably a good thing), but I lived on the music. It was electrifying, especially the last song, the one the ensemble sings after Claude has given himself up to the clutches of Vietnam. “Let the sun shine,” they sing. Claude has died, but on the stage a single spotlight shines down, a beam of light from the heavens onto his earthly grave. At this point in my life, this song represented freedom: the ability to dance shamelessly in the basement. But then I grew up, and as life got in the way, the song disappeared into the recesses of my mind. But, like fate, the song came back to me last summer.

I love this musical. To be honest, I love practically all musicals. I am a show tunes lover, and proud of it. Musicals tell stories through song: powerful, rich, and riveting song. I find this very aesthetic. It combines literature with dance and singing into a powerful and cathartic two to three hour escape from reality. In July I went to see Hair on Broadway. That night was the most vibrant, colorful one of my life; the show danced its way into a niche in my heart. During curtain call, the actors called people on stage. I ran up and joined in song, singing “Let the Sun Shine In,” at the top of my lungs. My nine-year-old self would have been so happy. Gazing into those lights, my legs rooted to the Broadway stage, I began to weep. It was the most transcendent moment of my life. For the next week, I locked myself in my room, blasted the Hair soundtrack, and danced. In a way, nothing had changed. At this point in my life, the song still represented freedom, a way to see the hope and sunshine in life while completely surrendering myself to the music.