Tag: philosophy

Someone said, under applause, “no man is an island”. Very beautiful, very beautiful… But, unfortunately, the statement is false: there are, yes, island-men—and the most diverse. It is true: there is an impulse in man that drives him to social interaction; an impulse, however, that can be annihilated with time. The years go by, personalities consolidate, interests separate rather than unite—sometimes opening an impassable vacuum between man and his environment. It is not correct to say that there is a sense of belonging common to all men, just as it is not correct to assume that all men find affinities. Thus, it is natural that there are men who become islands, either by force or by volition. There are those who, out of defense, wear a social mask—although accessible, they are in essence impenetrable islands;—there are also those whose outward appearance leaves no room for doubt. Finally, in order not to be an island, it is enough not to repress the very natural gregarious impulse; but this, at a given moment, is only one of the possible choices…

Buddhism is probably right in saying that there are conscious states we pass through before birth: the evidence for this is the lucid manifestation of all babies immediately after their first breath. If they are not born inheriting the consciousness of a previous state, it may be that newborns are visionaries, and this justifies their being born crying, screaming, desperate, as if they saw the beginning of a path of afflictions and torments. It is impressive to note their wisdom and knowledge of this earth. However, after a few years of training, they completely lose their lucidness…

The great drama of the one whose life is filled with existential torment is that there are no valid answers to his questions other than the ones he himself validates. How can one bear it? Add skepticism to existential restlessness, and one has certain despair. The skeptic tends to reject possible answers to uncomfortable and unverifiable questions: from this stems his misfortune. He cannot accept what religion, esotericism, mysticism says; he is programmed to reject what he has not experienced. One can open an astrology book and find satisfactory answers for everything; one can take comfort in Christian salvation, Buddhist deliverance—but not for the one who refuses to believe. Every existential restlessness leads to a dilemma: to accredit by comfort what one receives without full proof, or to throw oneself into limitless affliction. Some, like Pascal, add a dose of reasoning to belief; others seem doomed to dissatisfaction.

I read mystics with real pleasure. Mystics: men who claim to see what I do not see, who argue with what I cannot prove. And pleasure, of course, to know myself eliminating to the last trace the ignorant presumption that characterizes the man of this century responsible for molding me. I am happy to see that there may be others with faculties that I do not possess, that I do not represent the human model in the fullness of capabilities. To me, reading them is always a lesson in humility.