Okay, interesting. Yes, I can see that “taking a break from understanding” might have its usefulness.
It's a yin / yang kinda thing, with understanding and "break from understanding" complementing each other, and together forming a holistic unified system. Like male and female, day and night, up and down, etc. Something, and nothing.
But sometimes, to simply just savour that dish of caramelized port pears with stilton cream is enough all on its own.
That's it, yes, enough. Very important.
Reality is fulfilling. Reality already contains everything we need psychologically. Making the direct connection creates a sense of "enoughness" in the mind.
If you wish, this can be seen as a positive affirmation of atheism, transforming atheism in to something more than a mere rejection of somebody else's ideas.
Reality rocks, is fantastic all by itself, far better and bigger than anything anybody could say about it.
Thought is always on the move, searching high and low for this "enoughness" everywhere it goes. The problem is that it's thought itself that is obscuring the "enoughness" that already exists. And so thought tries harder. Which pushes the "enoughness" even farther away. The end result is the kind of frantic civilization we are currently living in. Lots and lots of activity, and lots and lots of empty lives.
Part of my proposal to you is that if more folks had more "enoughness" there'd be less need for religion. Religion is a means to an end. Meet the ends by some other method, and religion is no longer needed.
Like giving a drug user another way to get high. The drugs are just the surface level, merely a means. It's the high they want.
The fundamental flaw in atheism is the same flaw found in theism. It tries to address the problem with thought. It tries to put out the fire by poring more gasoline on the flames, and thus becomes part of the very process it rejects.
And “living in the moment” can have its (very brief, I Ithink) rewards as well, I’m sure.
Life is full of drama of various kinds. Imagine that we have a safe zone that we know we can retreat to any time the drama gets out of hand. Just knowing that safe zone exists makes the drama much less threatening, much less dramatic.
Thus, "living in the moment" can have impact far beyond that moment. It's not necessary to be in the moment every moment, we only need to know how to get there as the situation requires.
I like to suggest that everybody have some phase in their life where they meditate four or five hours day, for awhile. Not to reach nirvana and all that stuff. Forget all that. Just to know what's there, and how to get back there if one wants to, or needs to.
It's like having a case of wine in the cellar. No need to drink it all day every day. But it's nice to have it there when you want it, or need it.
The problem is that you don’t seem to position aphilosophy as one (and perhaps a not-overly-important) tool in the chest that we use to perceive, appreciate, understand, know, enjoy or perhaps even fear our world.
I'm am positioning aphilosophy as the mirror image of philosophy.
One's interest in philosophy be a casual browsing of books on the bookstore shelf, or a quick scroll through a philosophy forum. Or that interest can grow in to a serious life long exploration. And no matter how serious we might be, there's no reaching the end of it.
The same is true of aphilosophy. It can be just a fun little game, or a profound life long journey of exploration. And no matter how serious we might be, there's no reaching the end of it.
That is, aphilosophy is as big as philosophy, as important, as interesting. If we choose to ignore aphilosophy, we are ignoring fully half the picture.
If we return to reality, use it as our authority, and listen to what it is saying, we can reasonably propose that nothing is far bigger than something.
The stars and planets are immeasurably small compared to the space that surrounds them. The space surrounding atomic particles vastly exceeds the atomic particles themselves.
Nothing is a really big deal.
aPhilosophy is an exploration of nothing.
) interesting as I involve my sight, my sense of smell, my taste – not to mention my imagination, my memory of similar items, my hunger, even my own anticipation. Perhaps, even, my appreciation for the person who prepared it for me. But sometimes, to simply just savour that dish of caramelized port pears with stilton cream is enough all on its own. (Ask me, if you want the recipe. It's amazing!)
