Menoculayshunal; Interlocution

One of the joys of blogging, for me at least, is the potential for meaningful exchange. Mostly it is one-sided, insofar as one will read lots of interesting and new things elsewhere, and visitors to one's own destinations might also feel they leave with some new nugget of understanding. Where there is an actual exchange, though, an acute observation or a question asked, there is (I admit it!) a frisson within me. Despite some early challenges from certain teachers**, I am an intellectual buddy and enjoy debate and discussion. Or just the plain fact that someone was interested and invested enough in what they read to make an effort! I enjoy leaving meaningful comments elsewhere and love when others are engaged here.

So, before proceeding further directly with the memoir of Sandeepany, I would like to take up a point arising from the following question (and brief answer provided) to last week's post, viz:

Having been given my 'starting point,' I would like to expand a little.

You see, it is not uncommon for folk to wonder about the benefit of philosophy of any kind. What purpose does it serve? Why is there such a subject in the pantheon of learning, and do we even need it? Indeed, elsewhere just recently, I have been 'in debate' with a blogger who has rather a bleak view of philosophy. Then there's the fact that philosophy as a subject, no matter how removed, harks back to the matter of humans as spiritual beings - which for some is a disturbing thing. Particularly if they conflate being spiritual with being religious and have negative associations with the latter. Let us be clear - some attend sacred buildings of all kinds with fervour, but for all their attendance, display no signs of having learned or transformed themselves into better human beings for it. Equally, many never enter any sacred place but have sacredness in their being for the high values they display. One can be religious about all sorts of things - because the word itself (as highlighted in my post link just given) simply means to do something again and again. 

Practice makes perfect.

The term 'religion' is bandied about now unthinkingly and is considered only in terms of those who attend a church, mosque, or temple of any kind. One word to mean something very complex. What is really meant is a system of faith organised in a specific way by which devotees can structure their lives. It's just easier to say, "oh So'n'So is very religious," and, unless we put a modifier (such as "about hygiene"), we automatically understand this to be a reference to matters of faith. However, many - even the majority - do not actually study their faith system with any degree of earnestness. They are not willing (or able) to adapt themselves and take on the changes encouraged in that philosophy to make lives better for themselves and those around them. They do not have to be scholars, per se, but the only way to gain any benefit from anything at all is to apply one's knowledge, no matter how small.

Anyone in the elite of their field has to have been religious in their attention to learning and then applying that knowledge to their particular area. That is the crux of Gail's question - an important one. We can study and study and study all we like, but it will make not a jot of difference to our lives if we do not show that we can digest, then offer out in our turn, something of that knowledge. For sportspeople, that is to win medals and trophies. For business people, that is to win contracts. For physicists and other material scientists, it is to investigate, research, and make new theories then set about proving them. For philosophers, that is to question the nature of who we are, what we do and the why of it all. 

Philosophy happens, whether we study it formally or not. In our own small way, all of us have a philosophy of life and seek to live it out. Even if it is as small as 'this is how my parents lived and it is how I too shall live.' When any such anchor is lacking, that is where we find people adrift and prone to greater vicissitudes. We all know someone, do we not, who seems adrift in life, not grounded or connected in any meaningful way. Quite often (though not always), they are people of strong mind who simply want to reject any suggestion of conformity. The idea of following any lead is anathema. 

Can you count on the fingers of your left hand the number of solo sailors in the world who truly never needed any help or guidance from anyone else, ever? It's not just the being on the sea, remember... as this article brings out, those sailors cannot even attempt a trip without the aid of others in the form of technology and rigging preparation and so forth! There also has to be a certain turn of mind...

Which brings me around to Advaita Vedanta, the philosophical doctrine to which I have dedicated my life since being introduced to it a dozen years back. All systems of faith have a background philosophy. I had studied philosophers of all stripes throughout my life, purely from interest and personal growth. Only now did I wish to formalise my philosophical leanings. Intellectually, I was like a wee lass in a sweetie shop, seeing lots of things that looked familiar but then realising that anything I had learned before was only something of an imitation of the original. It is not that all those deep thinkers (mainly western, I only latterly came to Lao Tzu and Rumi) lacked any kind of merit, far from it. However, there was almost nothing that they had that added to this pre-existing system of logic, psychology, cosmology and more that was Advaita. Put very simply (and for purposes of bringing this dissertation of a post to a close!), the premise is that all life can be perceived as samsaara (an ocean) upon which each individual must learn to sail. This can only be done if we understand ourselves, the nature of samsaara, and the nature of our interaction. Building our understanding of these three elements is 'building our boat.' The tools are logic, scientific understanding and meditation.

The direct answer to the prompting question, then, is that all this studying expands the thinking processes to the point where they can generate a synthesis of all thought and bring out useful wisdom - that is to say, application in the form of improved values, appreciation of life, helpfulness, Loving Kindness, peaceful resolution... oh I can hear a cry from somewhere... "That is only Humanism!!!" 

Well, my dears, you've heard before, I am sure, that there is no such thing as an original idea. Whatever thought you have, it will have been thought before elsewhere, else-time. Advaita, at 6000+ years antiquity, holds all the Humanism one could require.

The key difference is that Advaita permits one to have a performative faith (bhakti - to say prayers, carry out sacred acts and so forth) without loss of benefit in knowledge (jnaana). There is no condescension or condemnation of those who chose to exhibit bhakti even as they pursue jnaana. Bhakti permits an artistic expression and outlet for devotion. That additional aspect of acceptance of a realm of being beyond the physical world is what brings smiles to the faces of those who dip deeply into the philosophy and cause others to ask, 'can I have a little of what you are having?'

**My mother never forgave the pronouncement that I was a dunce - yep, the actual word used. It was at primary school, and it was thought that I was absorbing nothing. The fact that I was already reading two years ahead of my peer group and not bad at 'aw-richt-ma-tick' escaped their notice - mainly because they were looking only for certain markers so they could cross off boxes. If they weren't pronouncing me dunce, I guess it might have been 'precocious' and equally as damning to a seven-year-old! (The concept of attention deficit due to boredom hadn't hit in during the early 1960s.)