Booklet of Contemplative Philosophy - Ran Lahav
Principles of Contemplative Philosophy
a. Contemplative philosophy as philosophizing from our inner being
To do contemplative philosophy is to encounter philosophical ideas in a deep personal way, by relating to them not from reason alone but from the depth of our being. Contemplative philosophy requires us to listen inwardly and be open to the endless horizons of human reality. It is, therefore, not an already-defined method or doctrine, but an open-ended process of personal exploration.
By way of contrast, Western philosophy has tended to focus on analyzing and developing theories in the abstract. Although some important philosophers (such as Kierkegaard, Jaspers, Marcel and others) revolted against this trend, much of the Western tradition encourages us to use a specific faculty - usually our reason, sometimes a special kind of intuition - and leave the rest of our personality uninvolved. Even 'applied philosophy' attempts to develop ideas theoretically, and only then to apply the finished product to concrete life.
Contemplative philosophy seeks to engage more central and deep aspects of our being. Here, Plato's cave allegory is useful. The allegory illustrates, first, that the role of philo-sophia is to call the person to transcend the everyday level of understanding (the shadows) towards a deeper understanding of life and reality. Second, it emphasizes that the process of philosophizing is not that of reasoning about the light, or theorizing in the abstract, but that of directly encountering deeper realities and opening ourselves to them. Third, the process is not limited to a certain faculty (e.g., reason) within the person, but involves the entire person: the entire person must turn around towards the light and walk out of the cave. And fourth, the power that induces the person to turn around is the Platonic Eros: the yearning for the Real.
In accordance with Plato's allegory, contemplative philosophy seeks to involve the person as a whole, not just the faculty of reasoning. Its aim is wisdom, which implies openness of understanding to realms beyond our limited and self-centered perspective, towards new dimensions of being. Philosophizing is not used as a tool for analyzing and simplifying and solving problems, but on the contrary, as a way of opening ourselves to the infinite depths and complexities of reality.
Such a philosophy is contemplative in the sense that it requires us to open ourselves and 'listen' and respond from our inner depth. It calls us to transcend the superficial division between reason and emotion, and to arouse our capacity to understand from our inner being.
In this process, philosophical ideas and texts can help us to deepen and enrich our understanding. We treat a philosophical idea or text not as an objective theory that attempts to describe reality the way it is, like a scientific theory, but rather as one of the 'voices' of reality that we can listen and respond to. We do not argue whether a philosophical idea is right or wrong, but rather try to see what it says in us, and what understanding it arouses in us.
In this sense, contemplative philosophy can arouse in us transformative insights and help make life deeper. It can help us take part in hidden dimensions of meaning and reality, and explore them together in philosophical companionship.
b. Are there guidelines in contemplative philosophy?
One might wonder: What does it mean to contemplate philosophically? What does it mean to relate to a text from the center of our being? What kind of understanding do we hope to achieve?
It may be tempting to respond to these questions by specifying a set of principles and definitions, or even a theory of contemplative philosophy. This, however, would set fixed boundaries to contemplative philosophy and would enclose it within a well-defined definition. It would therefore betray the spirit of contemplative philosophy, which is always an open-ended investigation, always a personal exploration that seeks to go beyond all previously known methods, assumptions, or preconceptions.
This means that whatever we might want to say about contemplative philosophy would always remain a pointer to further investigation, an idea to be transcended, a line in an ongoing dialogue, but never a final bottom line. This does not imply that we can say nothing about contemplative philosophy. We can say things that could help others to direct their attention in certain ways, inspire them to open their hearts and minds, suggest to them tools and techniques for pacifying their thoughts and 'listening' internally, and point out new ways of relating to a text.
This is precisely the role of the ideas and techniques that appear in this book. They should be seen not as authoritative statements, but as pointers that are likely to facilitate our contemplative encounter with philosophical ideas. As such, they are always open to modification or addition.
c. The Philosophical-Contemplative Stance
In contemplative philosophy I try to philosophize from myself, not about myself. Unlike many traditional philosophies, I am not a detached onlooker who examines a philosophical idea from the outside, as an objective observer. I let my inner self 'listen' to philosophical ideas and to their various meanings and implications.
This means that when I do contemplative philosophy, I should assume a certain inner stance, one that is different from my ordinary attitude when I examine a scientific theory, or argue on a political issue, or read a newspaper.
First, I listen. I open myself to let the 'voices' of philosophical ideas speak inside me. Sometimes the original source of these philosophical 'voices' is my own inner depth, at other times it may be another person, or a philosophical text. Listening, whether inwardly or to another person, means that I keep silent, hold back my tendency to talk, and open inside me a silent space for an understanding (mine or somebody else's) to speak. Thus, when I read a philosophical text, I am not quick to fill the silence with the chatter of reasoning, or to judge the text, but am careful to discern how the text speaks in me and how my deeper self reacts.
Second, I let different philosophical voices speak without preoccupying myself as to whether they are correct or incorrect in some objective or universal sense. After all, even philosophical voices that are theoretically unacceptable often have important things to say to us. They may shed an interesting light on the issue, or give voice to certain parts of our personality, or express an important consideration or perspective. I therefore treat a philosophical understanding as if it was a musical phrase in a concert rather than a scientific theory: The main issue about it is not whether it is theoretically true or false, but what meanings it intimates to me. To be sure, objective truth may sometimes be at issue - when the voice of reason speaks - but that voice is only one of many others. There is no longer only one criterion for preferring a philosophical idea, namely theoretical truth, but many.
Third, I accept the possibility that several philosophical voices may resonate in me at the same time, even if they contradict each other theoretically. For example, something in me may resonate with Kantian ethics, while another side in me, perhaps inspired by a different set of experiences, may resonate to the utilitarianist voice. I do not force myself to choose one of them as 'my' opinion, as my official party-line so to speak, for the two can continue to live side by side and interact in a variety of ways. This does not mean that I must accept every possible voice. Obviously, I can hear a philosophical idea and give voice to my reaction that the idea is revolting or arrogant or simply contradictory. But reactions, too, are voices in the overall symphony.
Fourth, I allow the philosophical investigation to remain open, without trying to reach a conclusion or bottom line. Contemplative philosophy is a never-ending process, and is not geared towards a final statement or finished theory. If, for example, we discuss the meaning of love, I do not try to arrive at a theoretical statement that summarizes what love is. A philosophical understanding is like a musical phrase in the symphony of reality, or like a line in an ongoing dialogue. It is not a final product, but a step in a process. This does not mean that I must constantly change philosophical ideas, for I may find deep meaning in a certain understanding and thus let it speak in me strongly and for a long time. The point is that our philosophical stance leaves the door open for an ongoing dynamic plurality of voices, and does not look for a final statement.
Lastly, I am aware of the fact that my various understandings may come from different depths inside me or in others. Some philosophical 'voices' may come from superficial levels of my personality, or even from masks and role-playing, while others may express understandings of deeper and more central parts in me that are more attuned with reality. And although I listen to them all, I know that they are not all of an equal nature.
In sum, in contemplative philosophy I listen to the plurality of philosophical voices of human reality that rise from within me or reach me from the outside, and give voice to the ongoing dialogue between them. In this process I deepen my philosophical understanding of the complex symphony of human reality.
d. The language of contemplative philosophy
The previous section suggests that in contemplative philosophy it is helpful to think of the philosophizing process in terms of the metaphor of 'voices of reality'. This metaphor is markedly different from the common language of traditional philosophy.
Much of traditional philosophy (with notable exceptions) deals primarily with theories about reality: theories about the nature of the soul, about morality, about knowledge, etc. The fundamental metaphor here is that of a picture, or map of reality. Just as a map maps a given landscape, just as a picture mirrors a portion of the world, in the same way a philosophical theory is supposed to portray the landscape of reality. We can say that the fundamental metaphor here is visual: a philosophical theory is like a picture.
This seemingly innocuous metaphor involves several hidden assumptions. First, it implies that as a philosopher, my relationship to the world is that of looking at it, from the outside, as an unengaged observer. Second, I am expected to put aside my everyday life, my personal worries and joys and hopes and moods, and to examine the world from an objective, uninvolved perspective. I am also expected to use one single faculty, one specific aspect of my personality: my - mind's eyes - often identified as my reason. Furthermore, the goal of my philosophizing is to produce a bottom line, a final product: a theory. That product is evaluated in terms of one central criterion: whether or not it is an accurate picture of reality.
The problem with this visual metaphor is that it detaches philosophizing from most of my everyday life and personality. Instead of attending to my personal, dynamic and multi-faceted encounters with life, it uses abstract reasoning to squeeze human reality into one static picture, one impersonal theory. Such a philosophizing, being far-removed from my actual way of being, is not likely to develop me as a person. As long as it talks about life from the outside, and ignores what life is like for me as a living person, it is going to have a limited capacity to transform me and help me grow in wisdom. A philosophizing that is aimed at a personal transformation must engage my entire being. It must be a dynamic process of an ongoing personal dialogue with life, a process that expresses the many aspects of my life and of human reality in general. Such a philosophizing should be done from within life rather than about life.
It is therefore helpful, when doing contemplative philosophy, to avoid the visual map metaphor. It is more helpful to think of any given philosophical idea not as a picture about reality, but as one of many ways in which reality reveals itself in our lives. Reality - my personal reality, the realities of other individuals, and human reality in general - reveals itself not just through our reasoning, but also through our experiences, hopes, fears, worries, and every aspect of life.
As the previous section suggests, the 'voice' metaphor is especially appropriate to express this multi-layered and multifaceted manifestation of human reality. We may say that reality 'speaks' to us and in us, and that it does so in many voices. Instead of the traditional approach of reason speaking in one single voice, we should think of a symphony of different philosophical voices that emerge in many ways and forms from the infinite horizons of human reality. Here we may regard traditional thinkers, such as Descartes or Nietzsche or Sartre, as individuals who expressed specific voices, each one in accordance with his own encounter with life. These philosophers expressed these voices beautifully and with great skill and sensitivity. Yet, these are only specific voices in the overall human concert. Some of these voices are for me deep or meaningful or salient, others are insignificant or awkward, some arouse in me voices of acceptance while others arouse in me indignation, but they are all part of the human choir.
