Freedom from nonsense.
“You don’t need to find something to cure your separation, you need to lose something. You need to lose your belief in separation. And that’s all you ever need to do, lose your belief that you are this little entity, this Me, that is separate from all the other Mes.”
Adyashanti
Eradicating delusive beliefs involves two key steps: clarity and dissolution. Understand the belief fully, then dismantle it through thoughtful analysis and actual experience. I see this process frequently in my teaching practice.
Any inquiry cycle should begin with a connection to prior knowledge. Students begin by revealing what they think they know about a topic. They need to make their ignorance clear. Consider a lesson on density where students are presented with a scenario: a solid object floating in water. They are then asked what would happen if the object were perforated with several holes. Would it sink, float differently, bob up and down, or remain unchanged?
Students must articulate their reasoning and predictions. When they subsequently observe that the object floats just as it did before, their initial misconceptions are confronted. This experience, coupled with analysis, dispels the false belief. They learn that density, being the ratio of mass to volume, remains constant in this scenario; both mass and volume decrease proportionally when holes are added. Through this process, ignorance is dissolved and a correct understanding of density as an intrinsic property emerges.
Provided the question is well-formed, nature tends to provide an answer. Will this object float? How long will it take a car going 30 mph to travel 300 miles? What is inside a proton? However, our personal lives are shadowed by more ambiguous inquiries.
Many of us have, at some time, wrestled with deep, philosophical questions. These include inquiries into the true nature of reality, the meaning of life, the fundamental characteristics of being human, and the foundations of moral principles. These inquiries often assume there is a one-size-fits-all answer, a universal maxim that applies irrespective of circumstances. This notion echoes Immanuel Kant's concept of the categorical imperative, suggesting that there exist moral principles that should be universally adhered to.
However, as many who study philosophy have discovered, these questions hold no answers. The misconception rests in treating these expansive, 'BIG' questions as if they hold concrete, absolute answers. The notion of an overarching, capital 'T' Truth is an extrapolation from the everyday practical truths we encounter. Our experiences and desires—such as eating, drinking, mating, or seeking shelter—shape our perception of reality into binaries like true/false or right/wrong, relative to specific goals. For instance, consider the objective of acquiring a red apple when hungry. Any action that moves us closer to eating the apple is 'right', while actions leading us away are 'wrong'.
Believing that this binary differentiation of truth/untruth, right/wrong, holds a deeper reality beyond mere practicality leads to misunderstanding and suffering. It's crucial to understand that such dichotomies are only relevant within the scope of our immediate objectives and experiences, rather than representing overarching truths.
As such, I think the real function of philosophy is to dismantle nonsensical questions that might be causing existential dread. ‘What is life all about’ and ‘What is Truth’ are such questions. Ludwig Wittgenstein, after becoming disenchanted with philosophy, writes that its true aim should be to:
“show the fly the way out of the fly bottle”
Let’s free the fly.
If posed with an existential question you have two choices:
answer it, which leads to more questions
dissolve the question, which leads to peace
Alan Watts shows the first alternative in a classic father-son exchange.
The child asks: Why did God make the universe? Who made God? Why are the trees green?” and so on and so forth, and father says finally, “Oh, shut up and eat your bun!”
This method remains unproblematic until fixation occurs. At this point, the quest for its answer transforms into a source of anxiety. Believing that the correct answer to a significant question holds the key to resolving everything is where one veers off track.
Why All-Encompassing Questions Are Problematic.
To explore nonsensical questions and their dissolution, let us consider the concept of ‘absolute generality’. Is it possible to make statements that truly encompass everything? Can we meaningfully claim, in an all-encompassing sense, that "everything sucks," "everything is beautiful," or "everything is a great cosmic play"? These statements attempt to cover all aspects of existence universally. But the critical question here is whether such broad statements hold any linguistic significance. Are they meaningful in a practical sense, or do they lose relevance due to their overgeneralization? Are they valid or just as nonsensical as talking about square circles or one-handed clapping? To explore this topic, let’s dive into Set Theory for a moment.
A Brief Set Theoretic Aside.
A set is a collection of elements. If we consider the set {1,2,3} — we see that it has three elements: 1, 2 and 3. The curly brackets {} denote that it’s a set. A subset is a set that is contained within our original set. More precisely, if we make A={1,2,3} and want B to be a subset, then every element in B must be an element in A.
The power set is the set of all subsets. In the branching diagram below, I’ve shown all the possible subsets of the set {1,2,3}. You’ll notice that the original set is a subset, since it qualifies based on our earlier definition. We also see the empty set, { }, the set containing no elements, is counted as a subset.
As such, the power set of {1,2,3} will contain, as elements, all of the above sets. The size of a power set is determined by the number of elements in the original set, so in this case we can know in advance that the power set will contain 2³= 8 elements. (A power set contains 2^n elements, with n being the number of elements in the original set). The power set of a set is always larger than the original set.
Back to our question at hand.
Imagine trying to compile everything into a single set. This 'universal collection' would seemingly encompass all things. But, as J. Westerhoff notes, we can always create a 'power-collection' by forming subcollections within this universal set. Thus, there's always a larger set possible; there's no ultimate largest set. The set of all sets is impossible to construct given that, the moment it is constructed, a bigger set exists (the set of all of its subcollections). We cannot talk about Life as a general notion because it is impossible, in both theory and practice, to even create such an all-encompassing concept.
Why Broad Questions are Problematic.
Perhaps all-encompassing notions are tricky, but what about smaller groups? Perhaps I am not feeling existential ennui about Life itself but about, say, the Future. You might even narrow it further to concerns about the upcoming month. However, it's important to recognize that a 'month' is an abstract concept, created by grouping all the events expected to occur within the period of the moon's orbit around Earth. This categorization allows us to have anticipatory thoughts, often anxious ones, about this time frame. But, is worrying about such an abstract construct truly meaningful linguistically?
Philosophy makes a clear distinction between 'Universals' and 'Particulars'. Universals are general concepts that can be applied to many objects. For example, 'redness' is a Universal; it's a property that can be shared by various things, like a red apple, a red car, or a red shirt. The ‘Future’ is another such concept. On the other hand, Particulars are specific, individual instances that manifest these Universals in a defined space and time. For instance, a specific red apple sitting on your desk, a unique red car driving down the street, or a particular red shirt hanging in a closet.
Buddhist philosopher Dharmakirti takes issue with this.
“If [a universal] is also a real object in terms of having the nature of awareness, then you would have to conclude [that it is a particular].”
When we perceive a Universal concept like 'redness', it appears in our consciousness at a specific moment, transforming into a Particular experience. When we see a red rose, the Universal concept of 'redness' is experienced at a particular moment as the redness of that rose.
Consider watching a sunset. In that precise moment, the Universal concept of 'beauty' is manifested in your consciousness as the unique beauty of that particular sunset. Thus, when we encounter a Universal like 'beauty', it becomes a tangible, real experience in that instant, essentially becoming a Particular.
We always experience Universals as Particulars. Our engagement with Universals always results in a distinct, momentary experience.
Our existence is, unequivocally, merely a tapestry of particulars. While abstraction and Universals are useful cognitive tools, they merely link together individual Particulars. The mechanics of worrying about the next month are twofold: to worry about specific particular events that will occur, and to experience particular physical sensations that accompany this worrying. However, through analysis of the aforementioned kind, the object of worry itself can be seen to be a conceptual mirage devoid of an ostensible subject. To worry about a Universal is to worry about a dream.
You are never dealing with Life - you are dealing with whatever your sensory experience is at this moment. You are dealing with this newsletter. Then maybe a sensation of hunger arises, so you deal with that. Then maybe a sensation of discomfort, so you change your posture. Then maybe a sensation of curiosity, so you deal with that.
Forget about Life, Truth, and Purpose. As long as you deal with the next moment perfectly - you are always in the right place doing the right thing.
It is as it is.
Sasha