There are some vague and looming thoughts circling my mind like vulchers blocked by the sun. I can’t quite make them out, but their shadows haunt me. What is the talent that some seem to have, for remaining oh so civil and polite with those whom they disagree with? Why do I find myself over and over crossing my own boundaries of respectable and decent conversation, hurling names and adjectives that include ugly images rather than the cold facts alone? There is no untamed beast so unwieldy as our own inner spirit, a mass of infantile desires and unfathomable appetites for self-indulgence. And yet we cannot just throw this away, like the single-minded muscle that holds our clam-shells together, we would fizzle lifeless into passivity and apathy without that fire.

There is more than such simple principles as these, which vex our best intentions. Hidden players lurk behind puppet veils, further drawing us innocently toward self-injury. Primary among these, is the master of illusion.

We are forever dreamers, even those who have no imagination by choice, drilling all color and music from their hearts for fear of being perceived as strange and outside of circles, too cowardly to sing loudly, and too self-conscious to let their wings soar them wildly. Yes, even the cold utterly meaningless lives spent in gossip and ceaseless trifling over office politics and television. Even these empty shells of souls have (without any doubt) a tiny, perhaps nearly invisible or well-hidden flame of the dream that remains. Some undernourished fantasy of wild adventure, or great accomplishments, of childhood hoped for greatness, of the trip never taken, the plunge into the unknown, or the ultimate love story untold. These unspoken, unfed dreams continue on, like a faint glimmer in the night, and have a strange effect on our perceptions from time to time.

For what appears to be but a small flame, is really a dragon’s fire. The only kind of fire that can create and destroy matter as if by a magical or thermonuclear forces, causing our perceptions to see what is not there, or to be blind of what everyone else around us can plainly see. This small flame, has over the billions of milliseconds that we perceive, carved out huge shapes that dwarf the grand canyon, such that all information is FORCED through these templates, prior to reaching our port. And this is the doomed magic, the sentence to human frailty, that we cannot escape, a flawed and corrupted perceptual system that cannot reconstruct itself completely. For that would require starting over fresh, without any preconceived categories and schema at all, and of course we all know how surgically precise water is (not!), because it will go where ever it wishes, and will relentlessly begin to smooth out whatever path it takes, beyond our control. And then the water, barring some massive earth-shaking divorce, or other trauma, will continue to gradually wear down our objectivity until we are in the end, but a construction resultant from our environment.

If you propose an argument which consists of 95% negations of what others have said, and the only positive new statements or positions you take, are mystically embedded in constantly changing poetic phrases which you sing like a zealous priest, then you have not offered anything other than destruction of what others have attempted to build, often times in good faith.  How about trying to build something yourself, which includes a well organized, coherent series of statements, which not only offer hope and purpose to this life, but makes good rational logical sense from the chaos of our surroundings?

Maybe that is why I like so much of classical philosophy.  So many times, there seemed a spirit of the pioneer, the true rebel, who would risk his very life by publication of what he felt true.  When nothing is risked, nothing is gained, and certainly it seems to me that far fewer risks are taken these days.  Perhaps when your career could be threatened by certain kinds of risk (politically), you are less likely to take them.  Only now that I have had a chance to work within modern academia, do I begin to understand the dangers of differing from those around you, even within so presumably open-minded an institution.  Who knows, maybe the root cause of this trend, can be explained by less political and more local kinds of fears, such as being called on the floor by peers, accused of the unforgivable, the MISTAKE.  But you can’t live life in fear of making mistakes.  We need them in order to learn, and we need personal virtues such as courage if we are to take any risk at all.

Likewise in philosophy we need a return to risk and noble courage.  But let me be clear here that I am not referring to psychotic anti-social courage, as typical of hate and fear.  The zeal with which hate is quick and unflinching in condemnation and disgust for others does not constitute courage.  Courage is more likely to defend someone who is weak or few, rather than to simply attack those who have rejected you.  Courage is more likely to face one’s own fears, than to dwell incessantly upon the fears of others.  Courage is more likely to give birth to honor, self-sacrifice, and other virtues, than to return over and over to the woes, the needs, the importance, and the pains of the self.  That is why children must be taught to take into consideration the needs, feelings, and thoughts of others, in addition to and balanced by those of the self.

When constructing a philosophy, we should do well to consider our own emotional states, and the nature of our own character, whether we are in the moral condition to be CAPABLE of truly self-free and objective scrutiny of truth, and this is even more so the case when considering the value and merit of moral and ethical truths.  Many people of a cerebral disposition might consider their thoughts and pen to be impervious to the ignoble and manipulative biases of affect.  Like a shadow in the dark though, basal drives are forever standing by, just past the meager light of our mind, waiting for any inroad to express their agenda. How often do you find a loved one, friend, or coworker quite obviously beside their self with stress and frustration, only to lash out at their closest confidant upon mention of the observation of their condition, perhaps out of self-less concern?  How much more so is this the case for those who are too difficult to argue with, who have learned to counter any small criticism with success, and have far fewer willing to bring such matters to their attention?

Rather than hide or deny one’s character, personality, and emotional states, it may at times be worth introspecting, and even fully examining these, whether or not they are included or become part of the process of development of one’s philosophy.  Only in light of where the shoals and subsurface coast-line rocks are located, is one likely to navigate them without collision.  At some point, it is worth-while to stick your neck out, show your cards, and spill your guts.  Beyond baring your inner-most ideas, thoughts and beliefs, one should be ready to expose your deepest fears, hurts, and angers.  Like a full divulgence to buyers, this will not only give the the WHOLE story behind your story, it will also free you from any risk of having sold half-truths.

Lastly, I believe that philosophers (like poets) need to expunge their hearts of all contents and take inventory regularly.  How can one expect to have skilled use of a toolset and clear vision, when one has not fully examined, much less cleaned one’s own tools, the mental operations and quirks of method developed in the hidden laboratories of our minds.  Our mental eyes can only see what spectrum they believe is there already, and often it is the case that we are not fully aware of those apriori assumptions and beliefs until we look hard for them specifically.  The flood gates need regular maintenance, and opening, else we forget what is behind.  It is an important matter of training for anyone who wishes to “do philosophy” or construct their own, that they be ready to deal with their own insecurities and emotional histories.

Obviously, if it is poetry we are engaged in, we are very likely already emptying our souls and baring our chests, but that is not to say that a wood craftsman should not also dabble in metallurgy.  A casual understanding of metallurgy will not only help you wield your tools more deftly to their very limits, but also to perhaps design and build new ones that other craftsmen might benefit from as well.  Poetry pleases the heart without necessarily always being fully grasped by the mind.  However, philosophy should be within SOLID grasp by a sharp mind, and needs not interpretation or clarification when made clear enough internally, and can stand alone.

I do not propose (though I also do not always oppose) including some minor prose within philosophy.  I think philosophy should be made clear and should not be ambiguous, else it has become merely poetry.  Mere poetry is no less important mind you, because it acts like a song, and sings about the author and their heart.  But to divulge and exercise your mind, and to build a coherent and worthwhile philosophy, it must be intelligible completely to others.

My contention though, is that the heart is more clever than the mind, and will find a way to influence the mind wherever possible.  You cannot properly do philosophy without also opening and revealing your heart.  Whereas the poet’s tools are the instruments and individual feelings of the heart, the philosopher’s tools are those of reason and the mind.  But of course, we all know and will confess if pressed that both the heart and the mind are one, two bedfellows within the same organ in our heads.  They cannot be completely separated.

A terrible creature lurks deep in our minds.

The first bloom of a new Spring, we begin to see…

Power has crushed our whispered resistance and

One single blue moment of fear, we stop and feel

For the first time, we stop thinking and feel

What strange harmonies result, what new inventions?

This is how children are, this is how we were

Our hearts, the unchallenged masters of destiny

Fear and terror one moment, passion and love next

This is the story of creation and our origin

Archtypal rivals, dangerous unions, universals