Winter artistry on the river

As a student of philosophy (it was my undergraduate major) I am conditioned to an immediate interest in “the study of the fundamental nature of knowledge, reality, and existence” or what some people feel disposed to call bullshit.  And, who knows, they might be correct. On balance however I find there is a confusion arising between the two poles of characterization.  What on the one hand is misinterpreted as flamboyant language and impossible projections is on the other hand (my hand, for example) regarded not so much as insight or truths; rather the exercise is, firstly, purely cathartic (in which case the outcome is irrelevant) and, secondly, an exercise in logic (in which case the outcome is no more determinative than winning a high-school debate). Recognizing that so much of logic depends upon the major and minor premises assures that whatever ensues, the outcome will depend upon the quality and nature of the input.

I mention these details only to address the recent intelligence received from my erstwhile physician who I suspect was reading The Times of London while reclining in the business class lounge of an airport en route to the South Pacific. The article he sent me was written by Will Lloyd, subtitled, “Wise words of 16th-century Gascon noble who lived through time of crisis still resonate today”.

Through wide reading and intense observational writing, Michel de Montaigne (1533-1592) believed he could meet the most ancient demand in philosophy: know thyself. In the process he invented the essay and produced 1,269 pages that have never gone out of print. “No knowledge is so hard to acquire as the knowledge of how to live this life well and naturally,” he wrote. “And the most barbarous of our maladies is to despise our being.”

Whew!  Now that’s a lot to absorb in one spoonful. Oddly, however, I do not agree.  Well, to be exact, I accept de Montaigne’s entitlement to label his autobiographic conclusions as insightful – maybe for him even redeeming – but his conclusions are no more clever or predictive than any number of other inferences about the source of maladies or wellness.  And for this particular deduction I rely upon centuries of record.

If indeed an expression of philosophy resonates with you, it is my belief that the strength derives not from without but rather from within.  That is, the meaning of any formulation of “how to live this life well and naturally” is moulded strictly by the manner in which you present the dilemma to yourself. But keep in mind that explanation of what is to be done is distinctive.  Although every one of us is naturally shaped to seek gratification and to legitimize what we do, we are nonetheless caught within our own sphere. As I have observed so frequently before, “The universe is ultimately personal.”

There is value in shared opinions. But I emphasize that the value of those opinions is strictly the manner in which they are digested by you.  Opinions are no more or less nutritious than food; but it is the digestion of that nutrition, and the synthesis of it within our system, which renders its final and absolute effect. In the end, each of us is obliged to determine and to settle how to live life well. Barring catastrophic conditions, it is my belief that each of us has the capacity to love life and living. For me today it is the wintry artistry on the river.