“A philosopher’s words are empty if they do not heal the suffering of mankind. For just as medicine is useless if it does not remove sickness from the body, so philosophy is useless if it does not remove suffering from the soul.”
Epicurus
“People who cannot handle the walls being pissed on should not be in the business of running urinals.”
Gato Loco
Hello,
My work is to do with the practical, everyday use of philosophy.
The philosophical approach can benefit those who find it difficult to form interests, who find their level of boredom or worry bothersome, as well as people who feel lost or stuck in the labyrinth of life.
When the world challenges us, we tend to gear up. We move to all systems go status. The more rational among us take stock of resources, we huff and puff a little, and then we make decisions and take action, speeding towards our goal: a resolution, a place where we expect to rest easy again. This sometimes works quite well — but often only temporarily.
Now, in order to achieve more lasting resolutions, we should do the exact opposite: it is advisable to slow down.
Slow down, or even come to a complete standstill for a while.
Stop.
Look around slowly.
Step by step, allow a fresh impression to come into being.
Perhaps the challenge is not all that threatening, or in truth it isn’t really a challenge at all, but a possibility.
Or even a gift.
It is a funny thing, attention. It has the tonal complexity of musical sound. At trying times, it is best to have a relaxed, focused, sober and good-humoured kind of attention. Of course, the object of our attention often also evokes powerful emotions. As philosophers, we hold it gently at arm’s length, regarding it with the mild, benign curiosity and the bemused humour of the veteran naturalist. We may even hum a little tune.
I personally believe that the purpose of humans is to sing. When I look at the most content and happy people I know, this is what I see: whatever they do, they appear to be singing. They may even dance a little.
Applied to human situations, the philosophical way is like a reverse empathy. “What if this were not my life situation, but that of somebody else? What would I think if I had no dog in this race?” This does not mean that being moved needs to be avoided on philosophical journeys: if we come across powerful emotions, we treat them with respect and patience, and once they let us, we regard them with the same playfully curious eye.
I can help you apply that way of thinking to your own life and things, and if we both find it agreeable, we can practice together until you learn to do it alone, or until you decide you’ve had enough.
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After I was born, my life took some steep turns early on. As a result, I was not always swimming to my best potential.
I had no idea what I wanted, but I had quite clear ideas about what I didn’t want.
I emigrated from Hungary at 17. I sought and received asylum in the UK and I lived there for nine years.
During that time, I earned two degrees in philosophy at a reputable establishment. Then I abandoned myself to the currents of life, and they took me back to the old country, where I helped build and then unbuild a family, then found my way to my present family, with which I am exceedingly happy.
Until my mid-forties I had little idea who I was. For a long time my life was driven by what I didn’t wish to be, the vague notions I had about what was expected of me, and what felt good.
Through a number of lucky turns, I have largely come to terms with my dysfunctions and made adjustments to some crucially self-harming habits. My adventures included a great deal of parenting (I have eight children, the oldest was born in 1992, the youngest the youngest in 2015), a few forms of therapy and bodywork, animistic communion, arguing and community-building on the internet, renovating a 200-year-old adobe peasant dwelling and more recently a small-town, suburban family home, playback theatre, and always, but always, a fair bit of music.
Although the university experience was unpleasant on the whole, I did read and meet and talk to some interesting thinkers and I think I learnt an important though simple lesson:
When you really need to get your bearings, distrust the obvious and try to look at everything with a fresh eye. I call this the meta-orientation response.
Thirty years on, I find that it still works: I still learn new, important things that are close to the core of my life. This is certainly not the product of having learnt some ‘philosophical technique’, but still, the approach I have come to associate with puzzling situations plays a strong part.
*
We can work at my office in Tata, Hungary, at your place, or maybe somewhere else, in the time-honoured peripathetic fashion.
If you have read this far, I guess you found something that tickled your curiosity. I would be happy to know what and why.
Bruno Fuchs
holist