Reflection 21
DEVELOPING THE PHILOSOPHICAL SENSITIVITY
As I have often said, it seems to me that if we want philo-sophia to be a way of being, if we want it to be not only about life but in life, then it cannot be limited to thinking only. Philo-sophia must be present not just when we discuss abstract issues in the classroom or when we write articles, but also when we go shopping, chat with a friend, or sit down to eat. After all, the philosopher is a human being in this world, and her wisdom is in this world too. Philo-sophia does not mean taking a break from life, but is like an additional dimension to life, a dimension of understanding, of meaning.
Thus, as a human being I drive to work, wash dishes, make phone calls, meet friends—but as a philosopher I do all this with an additional sensitivity to new understandings. I maintain a special openness, a readiness to discern the ‘voices’ of life and express them—not just in my words but in my entire way of being. I am a witness to the manifold of meanings of human reality.
This implies, it seems to me, that as a philosopher I do not think and speak only in the name of my own little self. I do not feel and act from my self-centered ego, from the prison of my preconceptions, from my psychological and social games. Instead, I let a greater understanding speak in me. In other words, I give voice to those parts of my being that are usually suppressed and marginalized by social games, by my psychological needs, by my personal agendas and cultural prejudices. I seek to have a broader awareness that would allow other parts of my reality speak through me, and thus let a richer range of understanding act in my life.
Obviously, being a philosopher in this sense requires a deep transformation, a transformation that involves new sensitivities and new attitudes. As a human being I continue to be the same person as before, with my familiar tendencies and preferences and talents and shortcoming, but at the same time, as a philosopher I am no longer totally confined to this old self, I am not completely immersed in my personal irritations and pleasures and subjective viewpoint. I am no longer only my little self, because my understanding goes beyond the boundaries of my self. I now extend beyond my prison, and in this sense I am bigger than myself. My life is impregnated with an additional dimension, a greater awareness, indeed a greater reality. I now belong not just to my self but to a broader realm of meaning and understanding.
I can imagine somebody complaining that my words here are too vague, too poetic. “I don’t understand what you are describing!”
And she would be right. What I have written here is not intended to be an analysis or a theory. Indeed, I don’t think that a theory can ‘capture’ the meaning of the philosophical life, because philo-sophia is by its very nature an open search into the unknown. My words are intended to serve only as a finger pointing in a certain direction that needs to be explored. They are like a gesture towards the beginning of a road that disappears beyond the horizon.
Nevertheless, even though I am only pointing in a direction to be explored, it is legitimate to ask: How are we to walk in this direction? And furthermore, what kind of guidance or mentorship can we offer to those who wish to join us on this road?
I suggest that one important thing needed for this kind of philosophical life and exploration is what can be called ‘philosophical sensitivity.’ As a philosopher I must develop a sensitivity to meanings, an ‘ear’ for new understandings, an ‘eyesight’ to see beyond my normal walls. I need to develop a capacity to detect new voices of human reality and let them speak in me, instead of imposing on the world my own smartness. This requires a special attitude, a contemplative attitude throughout the day. Contemplative—in the sense of opening myself beyond myself for new understandings to speak in me.
But how do we attain this kind of philosophical sensitivity? How do we train ourselves, and how do we train others?
I think that it would be helpful here to consider an analogy to the world of art. When we teach music or painting, we hope that our student would eventually be able to play or paint in a creative way. We hope that she would develop her own personal artistic vision. But this is the final end, not the beginning. A student cannot start by creating great works. In order to create music or paintings she must first study basic techniques, learn musical keys or methods of putting paint on the canvas, master the rules of harmony or the rules of perspective, and be familiar with much classical material. She must spend many hours doing exercises. Only then, after she has mastered the basic skills and techniques, after she has acquired the appropriate sensitivities and a capacity to listen and see, only then is she ready to go beyond these tools, to go ‘through’ these technicalities to the real thing.
I suggest that in the same way, I cannot be a real philosopher out of nothing. I must start by learning techniques of analyzing concepts, methods of exposing hidden assumptions, ways of constructing arguments. I must learn the writings of great thinkers and see how they expressed the ideas that arose in them. Little by little I will gain the technical skills, the knowledge, and the appropriate sensitivities, and only then will I gradually be able to start creating, opening myself to new understandings, incorporating philo-sophia in my life.
This implies that the philosophy curriculum in universities is not altogether useless for us. Some of its aspects are relevant for us as philosophers, especially those that deal with philosophical techniques and with everyday topics such as love, freedom, or authenticity. Although this academic material is not important as a goal in itself, it is part of the training exercises that can help us develop our philosophical sensitivity, provided that eventually we will go beyond them.
