Defying the Default Setting

by Ana Karina DLC. Sesbreño

23 July 2013
Discussed Articles: David Foster Wallace’s “This is Water” and Gabriel Marcel’s “Introduction”

“I thought I was going to die,” I said the first time I rode a train.

“She’s so annoying,” I say every time someone do things I do not like.

“I don’t deserve this,” I say when bad things happen.

But the worst one is when I ask, “Why me?” 

As you can see, I am a spoiled brat to the core. Well, I used to be.

A few months ago, my dad started becoming really sick (I do not want to specify it, since it’s too personal). Of course, I was initially concerned with his conditions, but as few weeks pass by, I realized that I was more concerned with mine. One night, I just kept on asking God why he would do this to me. 

I was so affected, but I kept (and still keeping) it from my family since I do not want to add to their worries. The whole time, I was so scared that my dad would leave me behind. But, what I failed to realize was that it was not only me who was affected by his sickness, my whole family was too. I was just too selfish and I distanced myself from them thinking that I did not deserve it, but it was a stupid idea. And I was stupid.

I guess, DFW’s article really hit me when he mentioned that I have to become aware of the essential things in life, and that I am part of a greater whole. All is being in Being. I had to start maturing, because there is more to life than, well, me. 

So, I started the ultimate plan of getting my life back together. My checklist included becoming best friends with my sister, going home a lot, and just basically becoming less selfish. Because I realized that in the end, they are the people who matter, who I should give attention too.

But plans never really work out as they do. I wanted the end result of becoming happy, but the process was tedious. Like a semester in the Ateneo, there were hell weeks in this plan. But something kept me going all throughout, and I guess that is where Marcel’s concept of metaphysical unease comes in. There was just this undeniable desire that kept on making me endure all the pain of becoming unselfish (because it is truly easier to just give up). It was like; I knew that something greater was in store for me.

And there was.

After months of hard work, I feel that I am more satisfied with my life right now. It was like a long road, as Marcel again said―the end result was important, but the journey towards it is equally as much. Through the times of backing out in fights with my siblings, making time to meet up with my high school best friends, and spending more time with my family, I experienced some sort of transcendence in a sense that I was able to do things I normally would not have done in my previous default setting. I was able to grow. 

I was able to become more than what I am; I was, I think, able to become a better person. 

I guess the key to living out my life satisfactorily is what philosophy is. It is becoming aware of what makes me happy as DFW said and it is being able to experience transcendence in the quest of a philosophical life that Marcel reiterated. 

Going Places

by Francine Seno
Discussed Text: Wallace, "This Is Water"

My favorite text so far has been David Foster Wallace’s commencement address, where I learned that to fully experience is to venture outside of one’s comfort zone and into an “unknown”, to willingly step out of one’s bubble, to shake oneself out of one’s bland, routine-centered lives and into somewhere one has never gone before. To escape one’s natural default setting requires a conscious effort to shift or to go beyond one’s perspective, to think twice and even question one’s certainties.

This insight is very significant to me as it has so much to do with my one genuine passion in life: traveling.

In no way do I consider myself “well-traveled” – I’ve only traveled a total of 6 times in my life abroad. Locally speaking, I’ve only been to 3 places outside of Manila. Although my experience with traveling may seem limited, I would say that those trips have changed me as a person in ways I didn't know they would and I feel very blessed to have been given a glimpse of the world so early in my life.

When I travel, I get to leave my beliefs and my certainties at home. I am able to see and examine everything I thought I knew in a different light and angle. Going someplace different from your home country enables you to shake up your complacencies though seeing strikingly different situations than those you experience at home. You are awakened in various ways when you find yourself dealing with something that’s far from your daily realities.

Abroad, we are not seen the way we are at home: we are wonderfully free of labels, of social class, of standing, of whatever reputation we may hold back there. Here in this foreign place, nobody knows your name. And precisely because we are freed of these inessential labels, we have the chance and the freedom to come into contact with the more essential parts of ourselves. A lot of people claim to feel more alive when they are far from home.

Of course, it’s not all about what we get from the places we visit, but also what we bring, and leave behind. As tourists, we also carry values and beliefs and news to the places we go. We also have the opportunity to enrich and to impart valuable things to the new cultures we encounter.

In a nutshell, traveling changes us by exposing to us new sights, issues, dilemmas and realities or those that we might otherwise ignore. Traveling also exposes us to parts of ourselves we’ve never discovered before - when we travel places, we also travel to new moods, emotions, states of mind or some “hidden places” inside of us.  Traveling is a quest not just for the unknown, but the unknowing: we may travel not only in search of answers, but of better questions as well.

A Real Analysis of Philosophy

by Wys So

“The Greek language, and it alone, is logos.”

It is one of the statements in Heidegger’s “What is Philosophy?” that has caught my attention. After trying to relate the Greek language (or the Logos) to my life, I’ve found out that I have approached more Greek letters than I imagined. To my surprise, more than half of my life I have been dealing with those Greek letters such as α, β, µ, Ω, £, etc.

Few days ago when I was reviewing for my Advanced Calculus test about real number line, I surprisingly gained some insights about the relatedness of Mathematics and Philosophy. Theoretically, imagine a real number line from negative infinity to positive infinity, this real number line for me is the whole reality itself. From the real number line I choose a subset “S”, this subset can be imagined as a small circle located inside a very, very big circle named “R” which stands for reality. So each and everyone of us has our own “S”, which is our unique life, our daily routine, or the world that we are immersed in subconsciously.
Recalling David Foster Wallace’s “This is Water” lead me to think of a concept in Advanced Calculus called the “boundary point”. David Foster Wallace called our attention to be “aware”, similarly, it’s like telling us to be on the “boundary” of our own “S”. Being on the boundary point and to be aware will help us in realizing that the world is not just about ‘my’s. We are actually living with other people, with many other more subsets on the real number line. In addition, it is also implied by David Foster Wallace that we should go to the “exterior” of our own subset, going “out” of ourselves.

Moreover, Advanced Calculus highly focused on the problems about “existence”. Most of the problems are all about proving. Some of the problems are: Prove that x is an interior point; prove that the limit does not exist; prove that S does not contain its limit point; prove that the union of open sets is open, etc. All of these problems are similar to philosophy in the sense that they are looking for a reason, for an existence, perhaps. In fact, philosophy is about reason, about existence.


And it’s probably why people say that great mathematicians are great philosophers.

Philosoraptor ang Peg

by Anj Nguyen

16 June 2013

Doctor Garcia mentioned that Philosophers deal with language in an extensive manner, they deal with things in another level, a level that we can reach but we’re just too focused on the “what next?” rather than the “what’s happening now?” This is where “This Is Water” becomes relevant because we’re too preoccupied with what we are shown or choose to see that we don’t see what’s really in front of us. This point has been made clear with last week’s discussion. What got my attention though was when Doctor Garcia lectured on knowing more leads to knowing that you don’t know.

When you know something you are made aware of what you don’t know but that’s not the case now, well for me. When I’m taught something, I think, “Cool, I’ll remember that. Next topic!” I don’t think, “Oh what else am I missing in my life??” but when I do, I already consider myself thinking on another level. That’s the thing, I should be thinking on another level all the time because that’s the way we can make the most out of life. Keep opening doors but always explore every nook and cranny of every room because you’ll never know what you miss. This is being conscious of your actions and surroundings, opening your eyes and mind.

I know we all want to learn something new everyday but know that there is no end because there’s always another question to an answer. Try paying more attention to details. Like you should be aware of how awkward you’re being when you stare at someone walking down secwalk, or make like a philosoraptor and ask silly questions because you'll never know where you just might end up

Am I on the right track? This is how I understand things. Being aware makes you realize how unaware you actually are.

After Doctor Garcia’s lecture, did you too become aware of how unaware you are?

On Rembrandt and Aristotle

by Robert Dominic

To understand the painting of Rembrandt entitled "Aristotle Contemplating the Bust of Homer, I decided to establish instead what I understood about Poetry, Philosophy, and their relationship independent of, and in connection to, each other.

Poetry's main ingredients are words. The essence of it is the idea of trying to express the author's understanding of the things around him, and so in effect Poetry becomes a form of answering. And to answer is to define, and to define puts things within certain parameters. Poetry is a form of encapsulation; using words, we are given the power to name and define things and henceforth establish what they are. And so we go back to water: Water is a liquid, it is the main thing that makes up our body, and depending on one's situation, it can kill you or make you healthy.

But then what is Philosophy? I understand Philosophy as the venture into the uncertain. It decides to even take the definite, and find out what made it uncertain before it was even defined in the first place. Philosophy being a matter of asking questions, may not necessarily provide an avenue for answers, but rather greater scopes of question, inquiry, and thought. Water might be a common substance. But what makes it uniquely water? What makes water, water? Going back to the lecture of Dr. Garcia, we know that we can think. But do we know that we think? And if so, there must certainly be the human capacity to think that we think that we think, right? Is this measure of humanity extendable to any being that is non-human? Is this human aspect extendable to a greater form of thinking, and should we deviate from such, does that degrade or devalue us being human?

This then connect and puts together for me the harmony of Poetry, and Philosophy best depicted in Rembrandt's painting. Poetry, much as it expresses and defines the feeling, the thought, or the thing it seeks to depict, kills the question. Being defined, it becomes a display rather than a matter of query. It is the bust of Homer; Homer the poet, is a question that is killed, for he is depicted and defined by his works, and his thoughts put onto paper are what speak for who and what Homer is.

But then there is the connection to Aristotle, alive and not in stone, his hand resting on the bust of Homer. Aristotle, La Philosophe, is that depiction of the life of Philosophy. He is alive, he seeks to contemplate what is established, and take it to the uncertain. Yes, Homer wrote this, lived that, but do his works really define Homer? What if these were merely extensions of the thoughts and observations of Homer, what were his thoughts and what was his own philosophy? Aristotle not only represents Philosophy in the painting, but stands for the life of questioning and actively contemplating the uncertain as well for looking at what is defined and sincerely thinking of what made it come to be defined in the first place; what initiated or stimulated Homer to write, to expressly declare or creatively depict.


As I reflected upon this, I come to the conclusion that Philosophy and Poetry bear their own missions independent of each other, but when they come together, they challenge the human person with the opportunity to exercise his capability to dare to question what is established, or in turn, establish an answer for the questions unanswered for Man.

Open-mindedness and Causality

by June Patrick Bulaon

13 June 2013
Discussed Text: David Foster Wallace, "This Is Water"

After discussing DFW’s This is Water, our class began a discussion on open-mindedness: mainly, to what extent can we be open and does everything actually happen for a reason? Unfortunately, due to some time constraint we weren’t able to completely address the issue and I think some of us, including me, weren’t able to formulate their own ideas with regards to the topic.

Like what DFW already said, everybody falls prey to their own biases. It’s not necessarily something that we choose, though. It could be something that is inherent and imbued within us by nature or by nurture; that is, it could be some outside element that influences us to think or feel a certain way towards something e.g. culture, religion, experience, etc. This creates in us a sort of “default natural setting”, as DFW put it, that makes us view reality in a certain manner without really considering what is.

I view reality as a single solitary piece of diamond: there is only one reality but there are many facets to it. Sometimes what we think is cannot be seen on the surface by other people because it is the side of reality that we choose to look at; that is, there is only one reality but we choose what we make of it.
And I think that’s where open-mindedness comes in. It’s the ability and decision to not only look at a single facet of this reality but to attempt at observing this diamond in its entirety, to understand that each facet has its own beauty and appeal to people, and to choose which facet or image is most appealing and “most rational” to us.
This choice doesn’t mean that any other view is wrong or inferior compared to our own. It just means that our manner of thinking is different from theirs and that’s not necessarily a bad thing. I think this difference brings about more opportunities to be more open-minded. As we open up to the thoughts and views of others, we get to see a better view of reality.
Causality, or the attribution of an event to a cause, depends on that choice: the choice to consider and weigh in on the reality that is presented to us. Everything will happen for a reason if we consider that it does.

This, I gather, is the true power of the human mind and what makes us above all animals: our ability to make rational and conscious decisions and thoughts as opposed to always involuntarily going with our gut and instincts.

I found this “meme” on the image sharing site, Imgur, and I think it goes well with the discussion during the last class.  What do you think? Do you agree or disagree?

The Transformative Power of Thought

by Alec Abarro

13 June 2013
Discussed text: David Foster Wallace, "This is Water"

The two fishes have been immersed in the water since, well, forever. So when they are asked, “How’s the water?” They are baffled. They haven’t been on land, or at least felt the air. How can they be aware of the water when it is so constant? It has always been there, engulfing them. The older fish must have experienced jumping out of the water, and felt the breeze. Or perhaps, he had been washed ashore once upon a time, and felt the soil. Whatever it is, the older fish had been exposed to something that is not water. Hence, he became aware to that something he has been immersed in since forever.

“This is water.”

When we are so absorbed in a paradigm, we involuntarily overlook other ways of seeing the world. The younger fishes aren’t even aware of the water they are stuck in. But the older fish does. More importantly, the older fish knows that there is something other than water. He has seen the sky and the earth. His world is that much bigger.

What about us? What are paradigm are we immersed in? David Foster Wallace calls this “default thinking” and our default thinking is the Me, Myself, and I paradigm. We view the world in our perspective. We literally don’t see the world through another person’s eyes. To us, everything happens in a first person point of view. This I paradigm is our water. Now, the I paradigm is not necessarily bad. But what is does is that it made us more self-centered, more selfish, self-interested, self-involved, self-seeking, self-serving. Self. Consequently, we have, more often than not, overlooked the paradigm of you, of us, of togetherness, of community, of fellowship.

But we are better off than the fish, because humans are gifted with empathy. We have the ability to see ourselves in the place of others. As we distinguish the I from the non-I, we start gaining our own identity. We start to become aware of what we do and who we are by differentiating ourselves with other people.

This non-I thinking partnered with the differentiating of the I from the non-I help us gain a new perspective, another framework to see the world and in turn, the self acts differently as it redraws horizons that transforms the space which it lives in. As we put ourselves in the place of other people, we try getting inside their thoughts and feelings to see what they see and in turn, we identify ourselves with another way of experiencing the world. The ability to empathize not only gives us the capacity to recognize another way of experiencing reality but also gives us the opportunity to objectively judge ourselves from the outside, and this shapes the narratives of our lives.

This is the value of a liberal arts education, as emphasized by David Foster Wallace. It’s about the choice of what to think about, of how to think. But what he really means is “learning how to exercise some control over how and what you think. It means being conscious and aware enough to choose what you pay attention to and to choose how you construct meaning from experience.” Liberal arts free us in the default way of thinking we are stuck in, opening our mind and seeing the world differently. When we change “default thinking,” we gain awareness of the self. We learn how to think. But the most important thing is thinking in order to live fuller.

As we transform from within, the activity for the body changes too. Its actions manifest the inner simulation of the perspectives we have and gained. Simply put, another way of thinking produces another way of acting. It allows us to reach an understanding about the self that causes us to change it and bring about a self-transformation. In the end, an Us paradigm benefits the I, the way I thinks, and acts in the community. The I has changed, but this single individual impacts not only the self but others around him. This is the power of thought.

On Open-Mindedness

by Robert Dominic

13 June 2013
Discussed Text: David Foster Wallace, "This Is Water"

It isn't overthinking if we try and analyze if something happens or occurs for a reason, or simply comes about as pure coincidence. In fact, choosing not to exercise this human capability to seek and define the occurrences around us is a dismissal of this capability, and a submission to our default setting of self-centeredness, that if an ordinary thing that occurs does not strike us immediately as intended for us, we assume it simply happened by pure coincidence.

In the matter of open-mindedness and what is morally right or wrong, the basic truth that is self-evident is that we will all look at one thing with different interpretations. That open-mindedness is not meant to establish what is universally and morally right or wrong, because it is not open-mindedness if the aim or goal is to define, and possibly usurp, what is established in our society and in our world as right and wrong. That does not promote the lessening of arrogance that David Foster Wallace sought to highlight in his commencement speech; if open-mindedness deviates from exploring the truths around us and aims to establish what is right and wrong, then open-mindedness becomes a declaration or a claim, not the intended process of choosing how to think and establishing the control and discipline of what truth and point-of-view to observe.

Stating The Obvious

by Justine Dinglasan

Think about others.

It’s not always about you.

Decentralize.

To be honest, philosophy and I didn’t get off on the right foot. Yes, David Foster Wallace made sense. Yes, his address spoke to me. Perhaps this is water, but surely, I’ve heard that before.

In a single well-constructed speech, he had summed up values from kindergarten (and a certain purple dinosaur), insights from Sunday homilies, sermons from my parents, and everyday experiences. All of which comprise what I consider basic knowledge; to some extent even, simple common sense.

These life lessons aren’t at all inaccessible. I mean, Amir eventually stood up for Hassan in The Kite Runner because he realized the world doesn’t revolve around him. Harry Potter didn’t exploit his prestige as “the chosen one”. Instead he risked his life inexorably for the betterment of wizardkind. If fictional characters grasp life’s value and choose to live it out for others, shouldn’t we be able to?

Deep down aren’t we all aware of this capability?

Almost suddenly, it became clear to me. Philosophy, a kind of light, had finally penetrated my arrogance.
Yes, we are aware of this choice. However, more often than not, our awareness is deep down. It is hidden, obscured by thoughts we deem more significant. This consciousness is an untapped resource—invaluable but untouched.

“Philosophy is an explicitation of the obvious” because the obvious is what we don’t see. David Foster Wallace and Dr. Garcia are right. We’re too preoccupied with trivial concerns that we often overlook values we picked up in pre-school or moments of revelation in our own experiences. Choosing to be aware makes all the difference. Philosophy opens our minds to this choice. Reflection permits us to look deep into our most disappointing experiences to draw out what is always salvageable, ourselves.

Philosophy and I may have had a rough start. Now however, I’d like to believe that we’ve become good friends.

An Atheist's God

by Rucha Lim

"Why do people have to be this lonely? What's the point of it all? Millions of people in this world, all of them yearning, looking to others to satisfy them, yet isolating themselves. Why? Was the earth put here just to nourish human loneliness?”

― Haruki Murakami, Sputnik Sweetheart

I’d like to begin with a quick clarification because I know that “atheist” is a loaded word. It carries the connotation that an atheist is someone who denies the existence of God. Because of this, I identify myself as an “atheistic agnostic” to avoid any form of confusion brought about by connotations.

Just to be sure, I define that phrase by examining its etymology. The word “atheistic” is composed of the suffix “a-“ which is used to mean “absence of”, “theist” which comes from “theos” which was the old Greek for “god” (probably the origin of the Latin, “deus” as in “deus ex machina”), “-ic” which is a suffix used to mean “to have characteristics of”. The word “agnostic” uses “a-“ in the same way, and “gnosia” which means, “knowledge” (hence we have the Gnostic gospels) and the “-ic” suffix which means “to pertain to”. Therefore I am “absence-of-god-characteristics-of-absence-of-knowledge-pertains-to”. Rearranging that
to be more sensible to the English language paradigm, I am one who claims no knowledge
on gods and act as though were was none.

With that aside, I’d like to begin sharing my unsolicited reflection.

After listening to Gangnam Style for the nth time, I asked a friend what the hell the song was really about. He explained that it was a guy who is describing his ideal girl. Hearing the word made me go into a musing on its meaning and implications while rudely spacing out from my friend’s conversation. I was fortunate that he did not notice and I just nodded and said “Yeah.” When I was finally alone, I decided to put my thoughts into order and here’s the result.

What does ideal mean? I’ve been asked countless times to describe my ideal girl (and on certain strange occasions, guy). Each time, I’ve given almost the same set of answers. Of course, the qualities I give are distinct and would not be the same for everyone else. We all have our individual notions of an ideal partner. For that matter, we all have our individual notions on what an ideal world is. Some would say it’s a world with no taxes, a world with no wars, a world where everybody shares their resources, a world where nobody is ever friend-zoned, etc. But an important thing to note is how these notions came from individuals, people with perceptions. I tried crafting my own ideal world in my head but at some point I randomly thought on what a caveman’s notion of an ideal world would be, or that of someone from an ancient civilization or of the medieval era. The notion of a perfect world changes as ways of living change. My notion of a perfect world would probably be crude to a person who lives centuries from now. Who am I to construct a set of ideals for an ideal world that would encompass all things discovered and undiscovered, and that has
happened and has yet to happen?

Despite all of my disagreements on Descartes premises, I have to admit that perhaps this was what he was trying to say when all ideas are mere simulacra to their source. Our ideas are affected by our perceptions, which are affected by various things like values and the zeitgeists we belong to and cannot account for things unknown in the span of our existences. And Descartes himself was subject to this. So now I arrive at my notion of a God. I abandoned my Catholicism for several reasons but the primary one being that as human beings with limited perception, I believe we can never absolutely know anything, especially the existence of a supernatural being that is omniscient and omnipotent. One of Richard Dawkins’ famous quotes is “We are all atheists about most of the gods humanity has ever believed in. Some of us just go one god further.” A friend of mine disagreed with the statement, saying Zeus and Thor were not Gods. However he
confuses gods with Gods (and that is with the big letter “G”) in that they were not omnipotent and omniscient.

So here we see how the notion gods of the ancient Greeks evolved into the God of Judeo-Christians. A characteristic that remained however is the intervention in human affairs. I’d love to divulge into the reasons for my disagreement for this by expressing my opinion of the mimetic nature of religions but that’s a discussion (not debate) for another place and time. Suffice it to say that I do not agree with it. I am, however in agreement with Carl Sagan when he said, “The idea that God is an oversized white male with a flowing beard who sits in the sky and tallies the fall of every sparrow is ludicrous. But if by God one means the set of physical laws that govern the universe, then clearly there is such a God. This God is emotionally unsatisfying... it does not make much sense to pray to the law of gravity.” But to me, it extends beyond these physical laws (which I am sure Sagan did not limit to those known only in his time), my God includes each and everyone person, (That’s right, you’re my God, part of it at least) myself included. My God is this amorphous, (every)thing, not in any way singularly sentient. You could say that for me, the universe is God and not the other way around.

This is what I believe is what David Foster Wallace called “the mystical oneness of all things deep down.” and if I’m not mistaken, what Heidegger was referring to as the “sophon” and that as I continue my studies in philosophy (because I lack the confidence to say that I’m truly philosophizing), I find a way to connect to this oneness. Maybe it’s the buzz from the coffee while listening to Georges Cziffra play Franz Liszt’s “Liebestraume” but I want to connect to all those people I see outside my window, know their stories, their hopes and dreams, and serendipitously make friends, fall in love, and make this world a world a better
place, even a bit. So now I’ve given my Miss Universe statement, where do I go from here? And where do you go from here? Well, go ahead and pick up whatever you can from this and do whatever you want with it. Throw it away, throw it in my face, or keep it and make it grow. The choice is yours. As for me, I still have several questions left unanswered and I don’t think there’s anything substantially final on this little blog post. I guess it’s time to continue my loving struggle. If you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go lazily look up pantheism on Wikipedia.

New Perspectives

by Jason Dacuyan

A few days ago, my gastritis had struck again and since the pain was unbearable, I really had to go out and buy medicine from the drugstore. Mercury Drug Katipunan wasn’t far since I live in the Ateneo university dormitory but it was still a challenge for me with my stomach all fiery and painful. So I mustered up my courage and took a “trike” (short for tricycle) going to Mercury Drug. And did I mention how much I dislike trikes? They drive so recklessly fast leaving me kind of nauseated every time I go down. To add to that, the brakes on their motorcycles sound like those annoying sounds one makes when scratching the chalk board. Okay, so I buy my medicine but before I’m able to leave the drugstore, heavy rain fell and just my luck, I forgot to bring an umbrella. After faring the heavy rains for a few minutes, I finally found a trike going home. And it was on this trike ride that David Foster Wallace’s speech entered my mind.

At that moment in time, I was really tired and frustrated not to mention the gas pains that were currently happening in my stomach. “This is Water”, I told myself. As I paid attention to the heavy rains, the cars on the road beside my trike, the people on the sidewalks in umbrellas, and even the trike driver himself —I finally began to understand. I am not the center of the universe. I thought how the cars around me could have more urgent problems than me wanting to go home or how the trike driver might not have had lunch yet or he might also be sick but he’s risking his health to earn money for his family. I thought of the people who have to walk home under the heavy rain—only then that I felt lucky to be riding on a trike. I can control how and what I think, that’s what I realized. And once I was aware that I was aware, everything seemed okay.

The rain didn’t frustrate me anymore. I began to see it merely as rain, not some external factor giving me discomfort. The screeching brakes of the trike didn’t seem to matter anymore. The trike driver must have spent a lot just to have those brakes work properly and maybe he couldn’t do anything about the screeching sound anymore without spending more money. This experience has surprised me in a lot of ways. It has allowed me to see the bigger picture—that I am part of a greater whole. This must be what Simon Critchley meant when he said that philosophers seem to be elsewhere. And I was elsewhere. I was at that moment the same Jason but my mind was on the things around me. The experience was a big surprise and I was amazed at the realization. Although I already knew about these things after reading the articles, it really is different if you experience the realization firsthand.

Because of this experience, I also remembered Heidegger’s article about being in Being. I never really quite understood what it meant but now I think I have gained some understanding. By looking at the bigger picture and being aware of the things around me, I was moved. I was moved by Being. This must be what Heidegger meant about Philein which he described as a kind of harmony that reveals to us what it means to love and be sensitive to the vibration of the other. I think for a moment there, I experienced Philein with the people around me. I thought to myself, “If I’m already bothered and frustrated with all this rain, how much more the trike driver. He’s soaked from the rain.” Also, during my ride home, one car even splashed some water on the trike I was riding as it sped past a rain puddle. Normally, I would’ve been pissed. But because of my awareness, I was able to let it go and remind myself that I am part of a greater whole. I usually don’t bother thinking about these kinds of things at all. But I did think of these things. And because of that, I finally realized what Heidegger said about “being gathered together in Being” meant. Me, the trike driver, the cars, the road, the passersby, the tees—we’re all connected. We’re all expressing our Being, the dynamic act of existence, in a singular way. It means that we are part of something greater. I am part of something greater, something beyond and outside myself.

Everything seemed to connect —from Critchley, to Wallace, to Heidegger, and finally to Ferriols’ insight—seeing what something actually means as it exists. Who knew a mere tricycle ride could help me philosophize, gain some insight about the world and change my perspective. I choose what I think about. I get to consciously decide what has meaning and what doesn’t. I am part of a greater whole.

A Little Understanding

by Agassi Adre


24 July 2012


Discussed Text: Gabriel Marcel, "Introduction," The Mystery of Being

Marcel’s introductory lecture has us started on a long journey that hopefully, in my own personal opinion, ends with us being slightly confounded with the new insights, realizations, revelations, and whatnot, but with a certain clarity of how we, as individuals being a part of something bigger, should act, think, and be.

When Marcel talked about metaphysical unease, he introduces a starting point in which we can begin in our own personal struggle with philosophical thinking. This ‘metaphysical unease’ had us discussing its origin within our own personal experience. No doubt, we have had many experiences with this kind of unease before, but never realized what it actually is, or its actual term. For me, metaphysical unease is the point when my established paradigms become arguable, and that usually ends with a paradigm shift that exasperates me, for I get confused and become more uncomfortable.

In the lecture, we then deal with how to engage ourselves in the philosophical investigations that results from a metaphysical unease. Though we earlier discussed de-centralization of the self, and by extension the universality of our own thought and inquiry, in David Foster Wallace’s commencement speech, we then realize that, in Marcel’s lecture that we cannot engage in a philosophical investigation that is too subjective. On the other extreme, we also cannot engage in the same investigation in a very subjective manner. The dilemma here, Marcel says, where we have to choose between these two ways of philosophical investigation, should be taken as a false one. And as such, there is a need to have an intermediary way of thinking.

He then presents us with the first analogy: understanding works of art. Clearly, in this day and age, art is not really as appreciated as before. Though there are people who still appreciate the effort and the beauty, these people are a minority. And it is sad (well, in my opinion) that for the rest, it becomes harder to be in awe while in front of a piece of art as they cannot fathom the entirety of the piece itself. I myself feel a strong connection with art, thanks to a wonderful art teacher in high school, who for 2 years taught me, in quite a strict manner, the effort and aesthetics that go behind a piece of art. And thanks to that, I am forever awed by art works, even how simple they may be. But I envy those who still appreciate and/or are awed by art without having someone drill into them the entirety of an art piece, for they are capable of a natural insight for aesthetics.

And this insight – be it developed or natural – is quite important really, for it would lead to a revelation. The way I see it, the process, especially in this context of understanding art, is a circular process, where you have insight, then have a revelation, and with that revelation, you get further insight, ad infinitum. However, for those who are unable to get the same revelation, it would seem that a dichotomy is formed between these two groups; they are indeed separate and they it is hard for them to mix.

And this is where the topic of universal versus subjective thinking comes into play. For example, I clearly am awed by art, and thus there are times when I cannot help but think that those who cannot appreciate a van Gogh or even an Andy Warhol piece as rather lacking in civility. But now I know that this cannot be the case, and must not be the case. Bridging the gap between a universal way of thinking and a subjective way thus become an effort to understand how the other person is affected, because obviously, even if they do not appreciate or are not in awe by a piece of art, they too are affected at some level. And it now becomes our job to understand each other. The insights and reflections that we both would inevitably share would lead to a deeper understanding of us as individuals and of us as part of a bigger system. This in turn, in my opinion, would enrich our personal philosophical investigations.

In essence, one way to understand metaphysical unease and philosophical investigation is to try to understand how something affects another person and how that person reflects on it. Not only it enriches our thoughts and reflections, it gives us the opportunity to get a better glimpse of the environment around us. Indeed it would be quite difficult to do this, but if we allot a few moments into doing this, inevitably, everyone would be better off in terms of understanding ourselves and our place in this world.

A Part Of All That Is

28 June 2012


Discussed Text: Martin Heidegger, "What Is Philosophy?"

Most of the time, Heidegger worked in solitude in the Black Forest, and his dwelling in the forest influenced much of his writing, one of those being the use of a path, way, or road as a metaphor for doing philosophy. In the text, he asks us to tarry, to dwell in order to experience what it means to do philosophy, and hence one should pause, stop, and take time. This is one important point that we can reflect upon in the course of doing philosophy, as it is also a reminder of what we are supposed to do to arrive at an insight which will lead us to a greater appreciation of our own being (vb) as one with Being.

Another point we can reflect on is Heidegger's assertion that experience is always an experience of the whole, or an experience that comes with a sense of the whole. This is what David Foster Wallace means when he says about participating in a greater whole, or what Simon Critchley means when he talks about those who do philosophy as "being elsewhere."

With those two points, let us now meditate (or dwell on) the meaning of Being. To be clear, the word "being" here is not used as a noun (e.g. the table, the book, we human beings, or anything that exists), but as a verb, referring to the dynamic act of existence. The two, however are related, in such a way that all of these individual beings express the theme of Being in unique ways: being a table, being a book, being human.

But it is only in language where one can express Being. Language has the power of expression, that which enables us to communicate and render intelligible our experience, and this can either be immediately expressed (like the way we Filipinos refer to things through onomatopoeic words such as batingaw for the church bell, kuliling for the little bell, or paruparo for butterflies) or understood as metaphors (like the poems of the Jesuit poet Gerard Manley Hopkins, who expressed his insight on Being not through long philosophical essays but through poems). Heidegger's thought on philosophia points out that words are not merely signs or labels (like the ones we used to indicate where the washroom or parking lot is). Instead, they do present reality in a particular way, and philosophia certainly presents what it means to do philosophy for him.

One can see how Hopkins arrived at his insight on being, through language, in saying that the just man justices, in the same way that we can say the student studies, the teacher teaches, the painter paints, the dancer dances, which are all possible facets of being human. All of these suggest that only in acting out what one is that one becomes such. All of these are ways of expressing Being (which, on the other hand, for Hopkins, as a Jesuit, is acting out Christ in every moment).

The dynamic act of Being is that which binds everything together, with the diversity of acts as the ground for unity. Only when one is fully aware of the fact that we are bound together in the world with everything as beings in Being, then one gains a certain wisdom, an awakening to the fact that Hen Panta, all is one. And insofar as the human being is concerned, it is an awakening to everything that the human being can be, leading one to echo the classical and humanist thinkers, who in their own ways have said: "Nothing human is foreign to me."


Going back to Heidegger and bringing all of these points together, we go back to the path that leads us into philosophy, and that is the path to language, the path that calls us to name the experience, for naming things is to call out and recognize Being (such as a little child calling his playmate taba, in which the being of a person as fat stands out among other characteristics). The name is very important, and, like Adam who took the responsibility to name and consequently recognize other creatures, we are called to recognize other beings and their participation in Being by naming them, and to name is to recognize their existence, and more importantly to care for them. Indeed, language has this certain power to communicate being, given that what has been said manifests eloquentia that comes with much sapientia, or to simply put it, that one ought to speak well as one thinks well.

Meditating on Being and our way of expressing Being arises as a response to the question of Being, a question that is raised not only because we don't know, but more importantly, because the original view of things have been broken. In the same way disappointments in life force us to ask the meaning of things, the experience of not being able to know something brings us to these very essential questions that help us arrive at an insight. The philosopher Albert Camus brought up the question of the meaning of life, and he arrived at an insight: human beings need not exist, for there is no essential reason that they should, but what is important  is that the human being is, and as he/she exists, the question "What should I be?" is constantly raised.

Language, as Heidegger's path, is the key to understanding as that which presents experience, and words draw us to a distinct domain that we might have not gone to before. For Heidegger, the Greek language alone is logos, able to present reality, as that which manifests immediately the experience and meaning that such word would want to refer to.

It should be noted as well that there are moments when things speak on behalf of their own Being, like the way the Marikina valley basking in sunlight telling me (Dr. Garcia) to "become a teacher." Rainier Rilke's poem on Apollo might not immediately show how these things speak their own being, but in the end, he made the message clear: "You must change your life." Perhaps we might also experience these as we walk through Katipunan Avenue, where the sight of the poor children begging in the streets, the massive traffic, or the dilapidated structures, draws us,moves us to tell ourselves that someday, somewhere, we can change the world and make it a better place. This is a response of being moved by Being, and therefore we should be excited with Being, to allow ourselves to be moved by Being by letting Being show itself, reveal itself to us.

And of course, this excitement over Being is a form of second naivete, knowing that one knows and yet recognizing that there is still something mysterious, that there is more that one should know. This recognition allows one to open oneself to Being and anticipate for it, unlike the "sophisticated" people who know nothing else than say "been there, done that" as if nothing new will reveal itself in every event.

Philein, as Heidegger has said, is a kind of harmony, availability, attunement (which means being able to put oneself in an instrument and go with the music). This reveals us what it means to love, to be sensitive to the vibration of the Other. To love what? The Sophon, the Hen Panta, the all expressing the theme of Being in their own singular way, which gathers them together in Being. If you have this sense that a stone, a tree, an elephant, and your fellow human being is a part of you and you are part of this gathering together in Being, then you have this sense, and in one way or another, you are on your way to becoming wise yourself.

This is the ground of our consciousness and care for something that is outside us: the environment, our heritage, our culture, and most importantly, our fellow human being, the other that is in a way that is similar to us and yet different and unique. We are called to such consciousness, but we can only realize and respond through our awareness that we are part of something greater, that which lies beyond and beneath ourselves.

The Thoughtful and The Thoughtless

21 June 2012

Discussed text: D.F. Wallace's Graduation Speech at Kenyon College

David Foster Wallace, in talking about the benefits of a liberal arts education, distinguished between two kinds of thinking. The first is the thinking that solely concerns the self: the I, me, and mine of everyday life, and the second is that which recognizes that all of us belong to one home. While the first is a sort of thoughtlessness, a kind of thinking that is selfish,  the second is that which is thoughtful, mindful of the existence of the other and how it is related with the self.

It is on the second kind of thinking that reflection arises. To reflect is always to reflect on something outside, and while we are aware of it as a spectacle before ous, there is also a recognition of "I am here," of being part of that which we reflect upon. This tells us that to be thoughtful is to precisely get out of our minds.

The same goes with experience. Normally, we think of experience as "taking it in" (like the way we talk about experiencing food, experiencing a place, or experiencing some form of vice), but the deeper meaning of experience is to have gone out of yourself. It is going beyond our own thoughts and concerns and seeing, listening, and hearing the other.  One cannot experience if we just think of our own selves, our own values, our own comfort zones. What is needed is for us to de-center, to travel outside ourselves, and pay attention to the fact that the world is not all about you.

This basic realization about experience breaks the notion that the philosopher is a person who is elsewhere and is not in the world. The person who does philosophy, who reflects on experience, is he who thinks of what goes beyond himself, who thinks of the whole humanity. The Jesuit poet Gerard Manley Hopkins says that indeed, the mind hates fences, and always searches that lies outside it, which leads us to the conclusion that it is a certain passion in the life of the mind to get out of itself, a passion that should fuel us in our experiencing and reflecting.

That is why the philosopher necessarily takes time, having a certain urgency that, given that he will soon die, he strives to be truly alive by going out of himself, and to not take for granted that we are alive. D.F. Wallace tells us that we must live, in the same way that there is the imperative for us to seize the day: Carpe diem! 


To be truly alive is to get out of ourselves and take time for things that we take for granted, the things that are obviously essential but, as Antoine de Saint-Exupery says, invisible to the eye. To waste time in important issues and things in our lives is to actually not waste time, time which the pettifogger would prefer to use for the "important" things.

The philosopher, therefore, is one who is rooted to the earth, aware of what he encounters in everyday life, thinks about it ("sieves it" in his intellect"), and says something about it. The one who is truly rooted in the earth is one who is not, in Wallace's words, "unconscious" of the life that they live; rather, they are the ones who are conscious of their own selves alongside others, conscious that we are conscious, and to be conscious is to rid ourselves of prejudices about ourselves in the world and to learn to look and look again in order to discover the world, ask questions, arrive at answers, and ask more questions.

In that respect, what separates the philosopher from the pettifogger in terms of the use of their freedom? While the pettifogger's life is pretty much programmed and dictated by his affirs, the philosopher, on the other hand is spontaneous, that is he is aware of the things that might surprise him, amaze him, and eventually allow him to engage in philosophical thinking towards action. The philosopher also needs some order in his life, but he is no "control freak." He is that which recognizes the true meaning of ex-perience ("going out of ourselves") as a surprise (from the French sur prise, "that which cannot be controlled"). This is precisely what makes us human: to be surprised with what is the unexpected, that which draws us to philosophical thinking and further action.

Given these, how then do we characterize the philosopher as a man of thought and action? We have already shown that he should be reflective as well as truly free, and the last and most important thing that he must be is that he recognizes that he is part of the whole, a member in the community of human beings who are equal and must enjoy the same fundamental rights and privileges. Doing philosophy is necessary because it is that which helps us realize that we are persons for others, knowing that life, thought, and action is not about the self, but it is about being social, acknowledging that he is fundamentally bound to others, responsible for them in every way possible. Yet it is also to be noted that philosophy is not a discipline that is based on authority. The philosopher does not  certainly take for granted authority, inherited privilege, or established knowledge and procedures, for he/she thinks on his/her own, using his/her mind in order to think and communicate, not blindly following anyone who says "this is so and so." 

All of these have been articulated by Wallace in his speech, and he in fact speaks about being reflective, aware, free, and critical as that which makes us human. But most of all, the true meaning of being human is to be truly compassionate, which involves attention, awareness effort, and true care about other people and being able to sacrifice for them for their own and not the self's sake, but for humanity. To be a philosopher, as a person of culture, does not mean becoming too engaged with books, art, films, and poetry. Rather, the real cultured person is able to be moved by the other towards compassion and love, to have a sense of responsibility and concern for the other, in contrast to the old, "sophisticated" person who has grown tired of life and sees nothing new in it.. That is why the philosopher recognizes that the gift of his very self is that which has to be given out precisely as it is, as a gift for the well-being of others. It is to recognize by something that we experience as the same as ourselves, but radically different from our very own selves. And the only thing that is necessary for realizing this gift is to recognize an determine the meaning of things that he puts within and outside it.

Greek mythology speaks of the carpenter Procrustes, who cut off the legs of men and women who are too tall to fit in the beds that he made. This goes the same for the pettifoggers and those who are not aware of their own selves. Instead of actually adjusting in order to fully experience things, they merely limit themselves and refuse to move on with life with new ways of looking at it. Are we those who repair our beds or cut out the legs of those who lie in it? Remember that as persons doing philosophy, the challenge is for us to fully experience things and reflect seriously upon them, in order for us to face the most important questions (and perhaps the most important answers) in our lives, and it is necessary for us to question, to think, and to act continuously in our pursuit of meaning and fulfillment as human persons.

And for this to happen, it is necessary that we remain to be filled with wonder and amazement with the things  before us, and most importantly, to the other, for the very measure with which we will be measured does not lie on the things that we have done for ourselves, but that which we have done out of compassion for the other.


So far, what have we done to the other?