Tag: philosophy

One of the most beautiful aspects of the Eastern master-disciple system, through which knowledge is transmitted individually along a lineage dating back to time immemorial, is that the master endures and lives on in the disciple, without losing his own identity or overshadowing the disciple’s personality. As we read the stories, we are impressed by the achievements of all the masters, and it seems that the idea of comparing them to determine which was greater never crosses our minds. There is no rivalry; rather, there is a tradition that lives in all of them and continues to manifest itself in new forms, in response to specific circumstances, through individual acts.

Teaching is certainly a very rewarding activity, sometimes even more so than learning itself. However, it is easy to make it frustrating: all it takes is for the teacher to set expectations—or rather, to try to force the learning process. It takes time to understand this, and only then can one develop the appropriate response, which boils down to an attitude that is always open, always well-intentioned, but that waits for a positive signal before acting. Patiently, one waits for interest to manifest, and, knowing that both this and the outcome of teaching are beyond one’s control, one can finally enjoy the experience of helping.

Through the phenomenal appearance of Kant’s books, one learns that it is only possible to form an opinion about Kant’s phenomenal appearance, since Kant himself cannot be known. Likewise, Kant’s philosophy can have nothing more than its phenomenal appearance apprehended, just like a dog, a refrigerator, or an equation. Now, the following happens: from the moment one accepts this precept, everything is justified, except for study and, ultimately, life. It is incredible that there could have been armies of Kantians who lived as ordinary men—that is, who accepted this phantasmagoria and allowed themselves a natural death. In truth, there seems to be only one explanation for this, one that is somewhat discrediting to Kant’s philosophy.

However much we want to avoid it, suffering is the quintessential human experience, universalizing the words of Buddha to Jesus Christ, the music of Beethoven, and the poems of Camões. One cannot be human without it; to feel is to suffer. Ultimately, reflection ends up demonstrating its value. And something good springs from it, as the great and impeccable Louis Lavelle once said. Thanks to suffering, we are understandable and we can understand.