Philosophy

There is one philosophy: Philosophize!

Which is to say that all philosophers, without exception, have this one thing in common -- this one thing, which they all prescribe; and that is the act of philosophizing. They all affirm philosophy. And while their philosophies, and even their definitions of philosophy (and of what it means to philosophize) may vary greatly, they all fall naturally enough under the heading "philosophy"; just as all fruit that is ripe, regardless of its kind, falls inevitably to the ground.

The moral to be drawn is this: No construct of thought should take precedence over the act of thinking. No authority demands our thoughtless adherence, and no statement is so hallowed, or so truthful, that it cannot be questioned. Indeed, the greatest, most sacred, and most truthful statements cordially invite interpretation, and, by their nature, seem to imply, suggest, and connect, a thousand divergent avenues of inquiry.

In a very real sense, understanding is the enemy of philosophy. A philosopher should not seek, but almost learn to shun, the understanding of others. There is a kind of balancing act in the best philosophizing. The philosopher courts the understanding of her listener, even as she courts her own understanding, -- flirts with it, arouses and entices it with the possibility of consumation; -- but never, never surrenders to the temptation to proclaim a particular dilemma satisfied. The courtship is in the questioning.

Novalis wrote, "A man's philosophy is his horizon." In which case, to say that one has been understood, even by oneself, is as if to say that one has been circumferenced. It is an insult. A philosopher should not be like the founder of a town or beach resort, where travelers may settle or just relax for a while. She should be like the captain of a ship upon the ocean, whose bow points in the direction of a horizon that is never static, but always continues to unfold and reveal the treasures of the unknown.

As a philosopher, I do not want my brainchildren immortalized. Rather, I wish to see the natural order preserved. I wish to see my "braingrandchildren", so to speak. That my best ideas should bear fruit of their own, and die (or be discredited) in their own time, would make me proudest. There is perhaps no greater testament to the worthlessness of a philosophy than to see that there are more people inspired to follow than to dispute it; that it has produced more "adherents" (a fairly desipicable word, suggesting a kind of sticky, parasitic quality), than independent thinkers.

Surely, that philosopher has failed, whose work acts like a familiar beacon, drawing moths back to itself. The successful philosopher's work must be like a brilliant sun, which burns anyone who approaches, and blinds anyone who looks too closely, but, which sends its light into the most remote places, and those who get inspired with it are scattered far and wide, to send their own light into the dimmest and darkest corners of the mind. For we are here, not to make our way to those well-lit palaces of the mind, but to carry "the gospel light" of consciousness to the furthest reaches of the kingdom, and beyond.