Tag: philosophy

Although it has been said time and time again, it is necessary to repeat this truth, knowing that it will continue to be ignored by most: intuition comes first and is independent of its verbal expression. It must be said repeatedly because there are always examples of those who know, but cannot explain what they know; and not knowing how to explain it, or failing to explain it satisfactorily, does not mean they do not know. In truth, the problem often lies less in the explanation than in the listener. But it makes no difference: only perceives this he who, at least once in his life, has had a sudden understanding of something, an instant and reliable understanding that allowed him to judge and decide correctly, but whose foundations eluded rationalization. Those who have never experienced it, or have not noticed experiencing it, would do well to be aware of this possibility, so that they do not err by mistaking the ability to explain for knowledge.

Wakes teach us that success fades before memory does, and that, even in life, the degrees of satisfaction one can attain vary greatly. At a wake, in the presence of the lifeless body, the marks left by the deceased on the minds of those who knew him are revealed to still be alive. And one realizes, as there are different wakes, that there is the cultivation and enjoyment of different goods. Death merely lays bare what was gratifying, whether lasting or perishable, whether selfish or shared, whether the marks left were good or bad. The deceased, as Mallarmé’s verse says, becomes what he is; and it is through this final form that one can assess the success and validity of the simultaneous convergence of all that was collected throughout life.

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.