pilosopowarjo

FOR THE LOVE OF WISDOM

St. Thomas Aquinas

 Italian Dominican theologian St. Thomas Aquinas was one of the most influential medieval thinkers of Scholasticism and the father of the Thomistic school of theology.

 Philosopher and theologian St. Thomas Aquinas was born circa 1225 in Roccasecca, Italy. Combining the theological principles of faith with the philosophical principles of reason, he ranked among the most influential thinkers of medieval Scholasticism. An authority of the Roman Catholic Church and a prolific writer, Aquinas died on March 7, 1274, at the Cistercian monastery of Fossanova, near Terracina, Latium, Papal States, Italy.

 The son of Landulph, count of Aquino, St. Thomas Aquinas was born circa 1225 in Roccasecca, Italy, near Aquino, Terra di Lavoro, in the Kingdom of Sicily. Thomas had eight siblings, and was the youngest child. His mother, Theodora, was countess of Teano. Though Thomas's family members were descendants of Emperors Frederick I and Henry VI, they were considered to be of lower nobility.

 Before St. Thomas Aquinas was born, a holy hermit shared a prediction with his mother, foretelling that her son would enter the Order of Friars Preachers, become a great learner and achieve unequaled sanctity.

 Following the tradition of the period, St. Thomas Aquinas was sent to the Abbey of Monte Cassino to train among Benedictine monks when he was just 5 years old. In Wisdom 8:19, St. Thomas Aquinas is described as "a witty child" who "had received a good soul." At Monte Cassino, the quizzical young boy repeatedly posed the question, "What is God?" to his benefactors.

 St. Thomas Aquinas remained at the monastery until he was 13 years old, when the political climate forced him to return to Naples.

Education

 St. Thomas Aquinas spent the next five years completing his primary education at a Benedictine house in Naples. During those years, he studied Aristotle's work, which would later become a major launching point for St. Thomas Aquinas's own exploration of philosophy. At the Benedictine house, which was closely affiliated with the University of Naples, Thomas also developed an interest in more contemporary monastic orders. He was particularly drawn to those that emphasized a life of spiritual service, in contrast with the more traditional views and sheltered lifestyle he'd observed at the Abbey of Monte Cassino.

 Circa 1239, St. Thomas Aquinas began attending the University of Naples. In 1243, he secretly joined an order of Dominican monks, receiving the habit in 1244. When his family found out, they felt so betrayed that he had turned his back on the principles to which they subscribed that they decided to kidnap him. Thomas's family held him captive for an entire year, imprisoned in the fortress of San Giovanni at Rocca Secca. During this time, they attempted to deprogram Thomas of his new beliefs. Thomas held fast to the ideas he had learned at university, however, and went back to the Dominican order following his release in 1245.

 From 1245 to 1252, St. Thomas Aquinas continued to pursue his studies with the Dominicans in Naples, Paris and Cologne. He was ordained in Cologne, Germany, in 1250, and went on to teach theology at the University of Paris. Under the tutelage of St. Albert the Great, St. Thomas Aquinas subsequently earned his doctorate in theology. Consistent with the holy hermit's prediction, Thomas proved an exemplary scholar, though, ironically, his modesty sometimes led his classmates to misperceive him as dim-witted. After reading Thomas's thesis and thinking it brilliant, his professor, St. Albert the Great, proclaimed in Thomas's defense, "We call this young man a dumb ox, but his bellowing in doctrine will one day resound throughout the world!"

 St. Thomas Aquinas: The Existence of God can be proved in five ways. Analysis of the Five Ways    

• The First Way: Argument from Motion

 Our senses prove that some things are in motion.

Things move when potential motion becomes actual motion.

Only an actual motion can convert a potential motion into an actual motion.

Nothing can be at once in both actuality and potentiality in the same respect (i.e., if both actual and potential, it is actual in one respect and potential in another).Therefore nothing can move itself. Therefore each thing in motion is moved by something else. The sequence of motion cannot extend ad infinitum. Therefore it is necessary to arrive at a first mover, put in motion by no other; and this everyone understands to be God.

• The Second Way: Argument from Efficient Causes

 We perceive a series of efficient causes of things in the world.

Nothing exists prior to itself. Therefore nothing is the efficient cause of itself. If a previous efficient cause does not exist, neither does the thing that result. Therefore if the first thing in a series does not exist, nothing in the series exists. The series of efficient causes cannot extend ad infinitum into the past, for then there would be no things existing now.

Therefore it is necessary to admit a first efficient cause, to which everyone gives the name of God.

• The Third Way: Argument from Possibility and Necessity

 We find in nature things that are possible to be and not to be, that come into being and go out of being i.e., contingent beings. Assume that every being is a contingent being. For each contingent being, there is a time it does not exist. Therefore it is impossible for these always to exist. Therefore there could have been a time when no things existed. Therefore at that time there would have been nothing to bring the currently existing contingent beings into existence. Therefore, nothing would be in existence now.

We have reached an absurd result from assuming that every being is a contingent being. Therefore not every being is a contingent being.

Therefore some being exists of its own necessity, and does not receive its existence from another being, but rather causes them. This all men speak of as God.

• The Fourth Way: Argument from Gradation of Being

 There is a gradation to be found in things: some are better or worse than others. Predications of degree require reference to the “uttermost” case (e.g., a thing is said to be hotter according as it more nearly resembles that which is hottest). The maximum in any genus is the cause of all in that genus.

Therefore there must also be something which is to all beings the cause of their being, goodness, and every other perfection; and this we call God.

• The Fifth Way: Argument from Design

 We see that natural bodies work toward some goal, and do not do so by chance. Most natural things lack knowledge. But as an arrow reaches its target because it is directed by an archer, what lacks intelligence achieves goals by being directed by something intelligence. Therefore some intelligent being exists by whom all natural things are directed to their end; and this being we call God.

 After reading Thomas's thesis and thinking it brilliant, his professor, St. Albert the Great, proclaimed in Thomas's defense, "We call this young man a dumb ox, but his bellowing in doctrine will one day resound throughout the world!"

The Problem of Evil

 "Evil" has a wider range of definitions than that for which human or supernatural agents are responsible.

 There are  types of evil:

• Moral evil - This covers the willful acts of human beings (such as murder, rape, etc.)
• Natural evil - This refers to natural disasters (such as famines, floods, etc.)

 Of these two types, we may further divide both of them into the following two classes:

• Physical evil - This means bodily pain or mental anguish (fear, illness, grief, etc.)
• Metaphysical evil - This refers to such things as imperfection and chance (criminals going unpunished, deformities, etc.)

When Good Men Do Nothing

 "All that is necessary for the triumph of evil is that good men do nothing." (Edmund Burke)

 So much of the history of the struggle between good and evil can be explained by Edmund Burke's observation. Time and again those who profess to be good seem to clearly outnumber those who are evil, yet those who are evil seem to prevail far too often. Seldom is it the numbers that determine the outcome, but whether those who claim to be good men are willing to stand up and fight for what they know to be right. There are numerous examples of this sad and awful scenario being played out over and over again in the scriptures.

They Get Nothing Good Done

 When good men do nothing, they get nothing good done. To be good, one must do good. The Lord commands his people to do good (Luke 6:35; Eph. 2:10). Christ "gave himself for us, that he might redeem us from all iniquity, and purify unto himself a peculiar people, zealous of good works" (Titus 2:14).

Question: "Did God create evil?"

 Answer: At first it might seem that if God created all things then evil must have been created by God. However, there is an assumption here that needs to be cleared up. Evil is not a "thing" like a rock or electricity. You can't have a jar of evil! Rather, evil is something that occurs, like running. Evil has no existence of its own; it is really a lack in a good thing. For example, holes are real but they only exist in something else. We call the absence of dirt a hole, but it cannot be separated from the dirt. So when God created, it is true that all that existed was good. One of the good things that God made was creatures who had the freedom to choose good. In order to have a real choice, God had to allow there to be something besides good to choose. So God allowed these free angels and humans to choose good or non-good (evil). When a bad relationship exists between two good things we call that evil, but it does not become a "thing" that required God to create it.

 Perhaps a further illustration will help. If I were to ask the average person "does cold exist?" his/her answer would likely be yes. However, this is incorrect. Cold does not exist. Cold is the absence of heat. Similarly, darkness does not exist. Darkness is the absence of light. Similarly, evil is the absence of good, or better, evil is the absence of God. God did not have to create evil, but rather only allow for the absence of good.

Look at the example of Job in Job chapters 1-2. Satan wanted to destroy Job, and God allowed Satan to do everything but kill him. God allowed this to happen to prove to Satan that Job was righteous because he loved God, not because God had blessed him so richly. God is sovereign and ultimately in control of everything that happens. Satan cannot do anything unless he has God's "permission." God did not create evil, but He allows evil. If God had not allowed for the possibility of evil, both mankind and angels would be serving God out of obligation, not choice. He did not want “robots” that simply did what He wanted them to do because of their "programming." God allowed for the possibility of evil so that we could genuinely have a free will and choose whether we wanted to serve Him or not.

 Ultimately, there is not an answer to these questions that we can fully comprehend. We, as finite human beings, can never fully understand an infinite God (Romans 11:33-34). Sometimes we think we understand why God is doing something, only to find out later that it was for a different purpose than we originally thought. God looks at things from an eternal perspective. We look at things from an earthly perspective. Why did God put man on earth knowing that Adam and Eve would sin and therefore bring evil, death, and suffering on all mankind? Why didn’t He just create us all and leave us in heaven where we would be perfect and without suffering? The best answer we can come up with is this: God didn’t want a race of robots who did not have a free will. God had to allow the possibility of evil for us to have a true choice of whether to worship God or not. If we never had to suffer and experience evil, would we truly know how wonderful heaven is? God did not create evil, but He allowed it. If He hadn’t allowed evil, we would be worshiping Him out of obligation, not by a choice of our own free will.

Siddhartha Gautama

 Born in Nepal in the 6th century B.C., Buddha was a spiritual leader and teacher whose life serves as the foundation of the Buddhist religion.

Siddhartha Gautama, who would one day become known as Buddha ("enlightened one" or "the awakened"), lived in Nepal during the 6th to 4th century B.C. While scholars agree that he did in fact live, the events of his life are still debated. According to the most widely known story of his life, after experimenting with different teachings for years, and finding none of them acceptable, Gautama spent a fateful night in deep meditation. During his meditation, all of the answers he had been seeking became clear, and achieved full awareness, thereby becoming Buddha.

Early Years

The Buddha, or "enlightened one," was born Siddhartha (which means "he who achieves his aim") Gautama to a large clan called the Shakyas in Lumbini, (today, modern Nepal) in the 6th century B.C. His father was king who ruled the tribe, known to be economically poor and on the outskirts geographically. His mother died seven days after giving birth to him, but a holy man prophesized great things for the young Siddhartha: He would either be a great king or military leader or he would be a great spiritual leader. To keep his son from witnessing the miseries and suffering of the world, Siddhartha's father raised him in opulence in a palace built just for the boy and sheltered him from knowledge of religion and human hardship. According to custom, he married at the age of 16, but his life of total seclusion continued for another 13 years.

Beyond the Palace Walls

 The prince reached his late 20s with little experience of the world outside the walls of his opulent palaces, but one day he ventured out beyond the palace walls and was quickly confronted with the realities of human frailty: He saw a very old man, and Siddhartha's charioteer explained that all people grow old. Questions about all he had not experienced led him to take more journeys of exploration, and on these subsequent trips he encountered a diseased man, a decaying corpse and an ascetic. The charioteer explained that the ascetic had renounced the world to seek release from the human fear of death and suffering. Siddhartha was overcome by these sights, and the next day, at age 29, he left his kingdom, wife and son to lead an ascetic life, and determine a way to relieve the universal suffering that he now understood to be one of the defining traits of humanity.

 The Ascetic Life and Enlightenment

 For the next six years, Siddhartha lived an ascetic life and partook in its practices, studying and meditating using the words of various religious teachers as his guide. He practiced his new way of life with a group of five ascetics, and his dedication to his quest was so stunning that the five ascetics became Siddhartha's followers. When answers to his questions did not appear, however, he redoubled his efforts, enduring pain, fasting nearly to starvation, and refusing water.

Whatever he tried, Siddhartha could not reach the level of satisfaction he sought, until one day when a young girl offered him a bowl of rice. As he accepted it, he suddenly realized that corporeal austerity was not the means to achieve inner liberation, and that living under harsh physical constraints was not helping him achieve spiritual release. So he had his rice, drank water and bathed in the river. The five ascetics decided that Siddhartha had given up the ascetic life and would now follow the ways of the flesh, and they promptly left him. From then on, however, Siddhartha encouraged people to follow a path of balance instead of one characterized by extremism. He called this path the Middle Way.

The Buddha Emerges

That night, Siddharta sat under the Bodhi tree, vowing to not get up until the truths he sought came to him, and he meditated until the sun came up the next day. He remained there for several days, purifying his mind, seeing his entire life, and previous lives, in his thoughts. During this time, he had to overcome the threats of Mara, an evil demon, who challenged his right to become the Buddha. When Mara attempted to claim the enlightened state as his own, Siddhartha touched his hand to the ground and asked the Earth to bear witness to his enlightenment, which it did, banishing Mara. And soon a picture began to form in his mind of all that occurred in the universe, and Siddhartha finally saw the answer to the questions of suffering that he had been seeking for so many years. In that moment of pure enlightenment, Siddhartha Gautama became the Buddha ("he who is awake").

Armed with his new knowledge, the Buddha was initially hesitant to teach, because what he now knew could not be communicated to others in words. According to legend, it was then the king of gods, Brahma, who convinced Buddha to teach, and he got up from his spot under the Bodhi tree and set out to do just that.

About 100 miles away, he came across the five ascetics he had practiced with for so long, who had abandoned him on the eve of his enlightenment. To them and others who had gathered, he preached his first sermon (henceforth known as Setting in Motion the Wheel of the Dharma), in which he explained the Four Noble Truths and the Eightfold Path, which became the pillars of Buddhism. The ascetics then became his first disciples and formed the foundation of the Sangha, or community of monks. Women were admitted to the Sangha, and all barriers of class, race, sex and previous background were ignored, with only the desire to reach enlightenment through the banishment of suffering and spiritual emptiness considered.

 For the remainder of his 80 years, Buddha traveled, preaching the Dharma (the name given to the teachings of the Buddha) in an effort to lead others to and along the path of enlightenment. When he died, it is said that he told his disciples that they should follow no leader.

The Buddha is undoubtedly one of the most influential figures in world history, and his teachings have affected everything from a variety of other faiths (as many find their origins in the words of the Buddha) to literature to philosophy, both within India and to the farthest reaches of the Western world.

The Four Noble Truths

1. The Truth of Suffering (Dukkha)

The Buddha declared that this world if full of suffering; that actual existence including birth, decrepitude, sickness and death is suffering and sorrow. This is called the Truth of Suffering.

After his experiences as a prince and as a wandering monk, the Buddha had learnt that all people have one thing in common: if they think about their own life, or look at the world around them, they will see that life is full of suffering.

Suffering, he said, may be physical or mental. The Buddha's most important teachings were focused on a way to end the suffering he had experienced and had seen in other people. His discovery of the solution began with the recognition that life is suffering. This is the first of the Four Noble Truths.

Suffering is a fact of life. There are four unavoidable physical sufferings; birth, old age, sickness and death. There are also three forms of mental suffering; separation from the people we love; contact with people we dislike and frustration of desires. Happiness is real and comes in many ways, but happiness does not last forever and does not stop suffering. Buddhists believe that the way to end suffering is to first accept the fact that suffering is actually a fact of life.

       2.The Truth of the Cause of Suffering (SAMUDAYA)

The cause of human suffering lies in ignorance and Karma. Ignorance and its resulting Karma have often times been called "desire" or craving. The Buddha declared:

Verily it is this thirst or craving, causing the renewal of existence, accompanied by sensual delight, seeking satisfaction now here, now there - the craving for gratification of the passions, for continual existence in the worlds of sense.

After the Buddha learnt that suffering is a part of life, he realised he could not find a way to end suffering without finding out what causes it. Buddhists study that the Buddha learnt this just like a doctor learns about what's wrong with his patient by listing their symptoms, finding out what makes them worse and studying other cases before prescribing a cure.

By watching people Buddha found out that the causes of suffering are craving and desire, and ignorance. The power of these things to cause all suffering is what Buddhists call The Second Noble Truth.

Craving

What are things we crave for? Food we love to eat, entertainment, new things, popularity, money, beauty, holidays and so many more things and experience, depending on who we are and where we are. Craving can be explained as the strong desires that people have for pleasing their senses and for experiencing life itself. Buddhists believe that anything that stimulates our senses or our feelings can lead to craving.

 People everywhere crave for their favorite tastes, but we all know that not even the best sweets and our favorite meal lasts forever. Soon it is finished and there can be no more to enjoy, and then it is forgotten as though it never even happened. None of the pleasures we crave for ever give us lasting happiness or satisfaction. This is why people can crave to repeat these experiences again and again, and become unhappy and dissatisfied until they can satisfy their craving.

The trouble is, even if these pleasures are repeated again and again, we can still feel unhappy. Imagine eating your favorite food every meal, day-after-day, week-after-week. At first you might think this is a great idea, but very soon the day will come when you just cannot enjoy that food anymore, when it might even make you feel sick! Have you ever eaten too much cake and made yourself ill? Buddha said it's the same with all the things that please the senses.

Ignorance

Craving is like a great tree with many branches. There are branches of greed, bad thoughts and of anger. The fruit of the tree of craving is suffering but how does the tree of craving grow? Where can we find it? The answer, says the Buddha, is that the tree of craving has its roots in ignorance. It grows out of ignorance, and its seeds fall and flourish whenever they find ignorance.

What is ignorance? Real ignorance is not just being uneducated, or not knowing many things. Buddhists see ignorance as the inability to see the truth about things, to see things as they really are. This ability to see the truth is not a question of either eyesight or education. Buddhists believe that there are many truths about the world that people are ignorant of, because of the limits of their understanding.

 History can easily show us many examples of how misunderstanding and limited information cause ignorance. Until last Century, for example, most people in the world believed the Earth was flat and that travelers could easily fall off it. People thought that the edge of the world was a place full of monsters and strange creatures. Yet when explorers suggested that the world was round and that it was safe to travel far and wide they were punished for these ideas. Today we know the Earth is round and there is no edge to fall off and no monsters either, but for the people who lived before us, those dangers were very real in their own minds.

We can find many examples of how science has revealed facts about life of which we were ignorant. Scientists know, for instance, that there are sounds that people are unable to hear and waves of light which we cannot see. Special instruments have been made to help us see these things, but without those tools we would be ignorant of the fact that there are some things that we are unable to detect with our own senses.

 Buddhists teach that as long as people remain ignorant of things about the world, they will suffer from all kinds of misunderstandings and delusions. But when people develop their minds and acquire wisdom through study, careful thought and meditation, they will see the Truth. They will see things as they really are. They will understand the Buddha's teachings about suffering and impermanence of life, and the Four Noble Truths will be clear to them. The Buddha said that overcoming craving and ignorance leads to true happiness and Enlightenment.

The way to end suffering in life is to understand what causes it. Craving and ignorance are the two main causes of suffering. People suffer with their craving for the pleasures of the senses and become unsatisfied and disappointed until they can replace their cravings with new ones. People suffer too when they are unable to see the world as it really is and live with illusions about life and fears, hopes, facts and behaviors based on ignorance. Craving and misunderstanding can be solved by developing the mind, thinking carefully and meditating. Solving these main causes of suffering will lead a person to true happiness, just as it did for the Buddha himself 2,500 years ago.

     3.The Truth of the Cessation of Suffering (NIRODHA)

The extinguishing of all human ignorance and Karma results in a state known as Nirvana. This is the Truth of the Cessation of Suffering.

The End of Suffering

 After the Buddha realised the Truth about suffering and its causes, he spent six years committed to discovering a realization about the end of suffering — that, and his achievement of Nirvana, were his ultimate achievements. In those six years, the Buddha tried all the methods available to end suffering without success. Eventually He found his own solution to the problems of life and they are now the core of Buddhist thought, teachings and practice.

This is what he discovered: there is an end to suffering; it can happen to anybody, anywhere, here and now; and the key to ending all suffering is to remove all desire, ill will and ignorance.

What Happens After Suffering Ends?

After suffering, the Buddha taught, there is supreme happiness. Every step of the way to removing the causes of unhappiness brings more joy. On the path to the end of suffering, which is a path that Buddhists may spend their whole lifetimes practicing, there are levels of happiness and freedom from craving and ignorance that can be achieved. In the beginning the happiness might be through better material conditions: like more contentment, or better spiritual conditions; more peace and enjoyment of life. These are the reasons Buddhists can live happily without greed — even among people in cities overcome with craving and desire. They can live happily without anger even among people harbouring ill will. These kinds of happiness make life more rewarding and bring a sense of freedom and joy.

The Buddhist teachings say that the more people free themselves from desire, ill will and ignorance, the greater their happiness is — no matter what is going on around them. When they have completely removed desire, ill will and ignorance the Buddha says they will experience the same supreme happiness he discovered.

Enlightenment

 The second fruit of the end of suffering is what Buddhists call supreme Enlightenment. Enlightenment can be called liberation — a total, absolute and permanent end of all suffering. It is the ultimate and final goal of Buddhism.

 There are many, many qualities to enlightenment, but the most important are perfect wisdom and great compassion. These are the extraordinary qualities that only the Buddha perfected. They are the result of complete freedom from craving and from ignorance and the tremendous transformations from ordinary life that Buddha's teachings exemplified. Through perfect wisdom He understands the real nature of all things. Through great compassion He is able to help countless beings overcome their suffering.

 The experience of Enlightenment or Nirvana, as it is also called, is very difficult to explain. Even when Buddhists describe it as supreme happiness and perfect wisdom, they are not really explaining it completely. Nirvana cannot be put into words — imagine explaining the colour blue to a person who has always been blind, or the sound of a bird to a deaf man. Enlightenment is an experience that a person has to have for themselves to understand. Buddhists believe that the Buddha's teachings will lead them to Nirvana and trust his teachings of the Four Noble Truths to take them to their goal.

 The Buddha has described Nirvana in different ways. He has called it supreme happiness, peace, immortality. He also described Nirvana as uncreated, unformed, as beyond the earth, as beyond water, fire, air, beyond the sun and moon, unfathomable, immeasurable. It is also described as freedom from conflict and selfishness, the eradication of craving, hatred and delusion.

 The Buddha said, and demonstrated through his own life, that Nirvana can be achieved in our lives, while living — it is not a place to which we go after death. Buddhists believe that we can eradicate all the causes of suffering in this life, and achieve enlightenment — live in bliss, if we follow the Buddha's teachings.

 Buddhists have confidence that the Buddha did find an end to suffering, and that His teachings can bring them the same experience. The key to ending suffering is to remove all desire, ill will and ignorance. Without these causes of suffering we can experience absolute happiness, perfect wisdom, peace and all the qualities of Enlightenment. Nirvana cannot be described, it is only understood truly by a person who has experienced it.

      4.The Truth of the Path to the Cessation of Suffering (MAGGA)

 The Truth of the Path to the Cessation of Suffering is the Noble Eight-fold Path.

 The way to the end of suffering is called the Middle Path. It is an Eightfold Path involving understanding and practice of Right Speech, Right Action, Right Livelihood, Right Effort, Right Mindfulness, Right Concentration, Right Attitude and Right View. These eight elements can be divided into three ways of practice; Good Conduct, Mental Development and Wisdom. The goal of the Noble Eightfold Path is to bring a true understanding of the Four Noble Truths and deliver their ultimate Teaching - the end of suffering.

 The Noble Eight-fold Path

1. Right Views- to keep ourselves free from prejudice, superstition and delusion and to see aright the true nature of life. To understand the Law of Cause and Effect and the Four Noble Truths.
2. Right Thoughts - to turn away from the evils of this world and to direct our minds towards righteousness. Not harbouring thoughts of greed and anger.
3. Right Speech - to refrain from pointless and harmful talk to speak kindly and courteously to all. Avoid lying, gossip, harsh speech and tale-telling.
4. Right Conduct- to see that our deeds are peaceful, benevolent, compassionate and pure; to live the Teaching of the Buddha daily. Not to destroy any life, not to steal or commit adultery.
5. Right Livelihood - to earn our living in such a way as to entail no evil consequences. Avoiding occupations that bring harm to oneself and others.
6. Right Effort - to direct our efforts incessantly to the overcoming of ignorance and selfish desires. Earnestly doing one's best in the right direction.
7. Right Mindfulness- to cherish good and pure thoughts for all that we say and do arise from our thoughts. Always being aware and attentive.
8. Right Meditation- to concentrate our will on the Buddha, His Life and His Teaching. To making the mind steady and calm in order to realize the true nature of things.

 The Noble Eight-fold Path

The Path is specifically aimed at developing behaviour, mind and knowledge and the eight steps are divided into those three ways of practice.

    Good Conduct:             

• Right Speech
• Right Action
• Right Livelihood

Mental Development:

• Right Effort
• Right Mindfulness
• Right Concentration 

 Wisdom: Right Attitude

• Right View

 Since these eight paths can be put into the categories of precepts, meditation and wisdom we can say that the path of practice of Buddhism is the Three Vehicles of Learning. By following the precepts we learn to control the body and mind. Through mediation we learn to unify our mind. Wisdom is attained by the practice of the above two and through this wisdom all ignorance and passions are cut off and true state of Enlightenment is then realized.

  As we look upon Buddhism we find that the various ways of explaining this state of Nirvana and the methods of attaining that state of Enlightenment are not one. The reason for this is that Buddha's sermons were like the diagnosis of a good physician. Just as a physician prescribes his medicine according to his diagnosis of the patient, so the Buddha taught teaching which were simple or complicated, high or low, according to the capabilities of his congregation. Again, even though the sermon is the same the disciples interpreted it differently. Thus, through its long history Buddhism underwent many changes. 

The Decalogue

The Ten Commandments are an excellent piece of literature of the Old Testament, which was given by God Himself, through Moses, to the people of Israel, and which was destined to shape the morals of the society of the world.

The Ten Commandments, also known as the Decalogue (deca, ten; logos, word), constitute the ethical code by which the human race is guided, on the one hand, to believe in the true God, and, on the other hand to sustain the godly society in the attainment and application of God's will on earth. The Ten Commandments were kept undefiled and handed down to us as a treasure and monument of Christian civilization. The Christian Church has embodied the Ten Commandments as a basic moral code of, discipline toward God and toward men. "There is probably no human document which has exercised a greater influence upon, religion and morals than the Ten Commandments."

 Roman Catholic Version

1. I, the Lord, am your God. You shall not have other gods besides me. This command is against worshiping any god other than the one true God. All other gods are false gods.
2. You shall not take the name of the Lord God in vain.This is a command against taking the name of the Lord in vain. We are not to treat God’s name lightly. We are to show reverence to God by only mentioning Him in respectful and honoring ways.
3. Remember to keep holy the Lord's Day. Six days you shall labor and do all your work, but the seventh day is a Sabbath to the LORD your God. On it you shall not do any work, neither you, nor your son or daughter, nor your manservant or maidservant, nor your animals, nor the alien within your gates. For in six days the LORD made the heavens and the earth, the sea, and all that is in them, but he rested on the seventh day. Therefore the LORD blessed the Sabbath day and made it holy.” This is a command to set aside the Sabbath (Saturday, the last day of the week) as a day of rest dedicated to the Lord.
4. Honor your father and your mother. This is a command to always treat one’s parents with honor and respect.
5. You shall not kill. This is a command against the premeditated murder of another human being.
6. You shall not commit adultery.This is a command against have sexual relations with anyone other than one’s spouse.
7. You shall not steal. This is a command against taking anything that is not one’s own, without the permission of the person to whom it belongs.
8. You shall not bear false witness. This is a command prohibiting testifying against another person falsely. It is essentially a command against lying.
9. You shall not covet your neighbor's wife. 
10. You shall not covet your neighbor's goods. This is a command against desiring anything that is not one’s own. Coveting can lead to breaking one of the commandments listed above: murder, adultery, and theft. If it is wrong to do something, it is wrong to desire to do that same something.

 Martin Buber

 Martin Buber,  (born February 8, 1878, Vienna—died June 13, 1965, Jerusalem), German-Jewish religious philosopher, biblical translator and interpreter, and master of German prose style. Buber’s philosophy was centred on the encounter, or dialogue, of man with other beings, particularly exemplified in the relation with other men but ultimately resting on and pointing to the relation with God. This thought reached its fullest dialogical expression in Ich und Du (1923; I and Thou).

 Martin Buber  was known for his philosophy of dialogue, a religious existentialism centered on the distinction between the I-Thou relationship and the I-It relationship.

 Buber came from a family of observant Jews, but broke with Jewish custom to pursue secular studies in philosophy. In 1902, Buber became the editor of the weekly Die Welt, the central organ of the Zionist movement, although he later withdrew from organizational work in Zionism. In 1923 Buber wrote his famous essay on existence, Ich und Du (later translated into English as I and Thou), and in 1925 he began translating the Hebrew Bible into the German language. he began, in conjunction with Franz Rosenzweig, translating the Hebrew Bible into German. He himself called this translation Verdeutschung ("Germanification"), since it does not always use literary German language, but instead attempts to find new dynamic (often newly invented) equivalent phrasing to respect the multivalent Hebrew original.

 In 1930 Buber became an honorary professor at the University of Frankfurt am Main, and resigned in protest from his professorship immediately after Adolf Hitler came to power in 1933. He then founded the Central Office for Jewish Adult Education, which became an increasingly important body as the German government forbade Jews to attend public education. In 1938, Buber left Germany and settled in Jerusalem, in the British Mandate of Palestine, receiving a professorship at Hebrew University and lecturing in anthropology and introductory sociology.

 Martin Buber’s I and Thou

 Martin Buber’s I and Thou (Ich und Du, 1923) presents a philosophy of personal dialogue, in that it describes how personal dialogue can define the nature of reality. Buber’s major theme is that human existence may be defined by the way in which we engage in dialogue with each other, with the world, and with God.

 According to Buber, human beings may adopt two attitudes toward the world: I-Thou or I-It. I-Thou is a relation of subject-to-subject, while I-It is a relation of subject-to-object. In the I-Thou relationship, human beings are aware of each oher as having a unity of being. In the I-Thou relationship, human beings do not perceive each other as consisting of specific, isolated qualities, but engage in a dialogue involving each other's whole being. In the I-It relationship, on the other hand, human beings perceive each other as consisting of specific, isolated qualities, and view themselves as part of a world which consists of things. I-Thou is a relationship of mutuality and reciprocity, while I-It is a relationship of separateness and detachment.

 Buber explains that human beings may try to convert the subject-to-subject relation to a subject-to-object relation, or vice versa. However, the being of a subject is a unity which cannot be analyzed as an object. When a subject is analyzed as an object, the subject is no longer a subject, but becomes an object. When a subject is analyzed as an object, the subject is no longer a Thou, but becomes an It. The being which is analyzed as an object is the It in an I-It relation.

 The subject-to-subject relation affirms each subject as having a unity of being. When a subject chooses, or is chosen by, the I-Thou relation, this act involves the subject’s whole being. Thus, the I-Thou relation is an act of choosing, or being chosen, to become the subject of a subject-to-subject relation. The subject becomes a subject through the I-Thou relation, and the act of choosing this relation affirms the subject’s whole being.

 Buber says that the I-Thou relation is a direct interpersonal relation which is not mediated by any intervening system of ideas. No objects of thought intervene between I and Thou.1 I-Thou is a direct relation of subject-to-subject, which is not mediated by any other relation. Thus, I-Thou is not a means to some object or goal, but is an ultimate relation involving the whole being of each subject.

 Love, as a relation between I and Thou, is a subject-to-subject relation. Buber claims that love is not a relation of subject-to-object. In the I-Thou relation, subjects do not perceive each other as objects, but perceive each other’s unity of being. Love is an I-Thou relation in which subjects share this unity of being. Love is also a relation in which I and Thou share a sense of caring, respect, commitment, and responsibility.

 Buber argues that, although the I-Thou relation is an ideal relation, the I-It relation is an inescapable relation by which the world is viewed as consisting of knowable objects or things. The I-It relation is the means by which the world is analyzed and described. However, the I-It relation may become an I-Thou relation, and in the I-Thou relation we can interact with the world in its whole being.

 In the I-Thou relation, the I is unified with the Thou, but in the I-It relation, the I is detached or separated from the It. In the I-Thou relation, the being of the I belongs both to I and to Thou. In the I-It relation, the being of the I belongs to I, but not to It.

 I-Thou is a relation in which I and Thou have a shared reality. Buber contends that the I which has no Thou has a reality which is less complete than that of the I in the I-and-Thou. The more that I-and-Thou share their reality, the more complete is their reality.

 According to Buber, God is the eternal Thou. God is the Thou who sustains the I-Thou relation eternally. In the I-Thou relation between the individual and God, there is a unity of being in which the individual can always find God. In the I-Thou relation, there is no barrier of other relations which separate the individual from God, and thus the individual can speak directly to God.

 The eternal Thou is not an object of experience, and is not an object of thought. The eternal Thou is not something which can be investigated or examined. The eternal Thou is not a knowable object. However, the eternal Thou can be known as the absolute Person who gives unity to all being.

 Buber also explains that the I-Thou relation may have either potential being or actual being. When the I-It relation becomes an I-Thou relation, the potential being of the I-Thou relation becomes the actual being of the I-Thou relation. However, the I-Thou relation between the individual and God does not become, or evolve from, an I-It relation, because God, as the eternal Thou, is eternally present as actual Being.

 Buber contends that the I-Thou relation between the individual and God is a universal relation which is the foundation for all other relations. If the individual has a real I-Thou relation with God, then the individual must have a real I-Thou relation with the world. If the individual has a real I-Thou relation with God, then the individual’s actions in the world must be guided by that I-Thou relation. Thus, the philosophy of personal dialogue may be an instructive method of ethical inquiry and of defining the nature of personal responsibility.

There are three kinds of dialogue, according to Buber:

Genuine dialogue - where its participants has in mind the other, and turns to him to establish a mutual living relationship between them.

Technical dialogue - prompted by the need of objective understanding.

A monologue disguised as a dialogue - wherein two men speak each to himself such as in a debate, a conversation in which there is no need to learn or give something.

Here Buber is telling us the first requirement of a genuine dialogue: to listen, to be open to the world, to observe, to be aware of everything including flowers and animals, not just of persons.

The "signs" of a dialogue for Buber are whatever happens to us, whatever occurs to us. These signs of address are, thus, everywhere, but we ignore them most of the time. When we do notice them, usually we ignore them, usually we think we do not understand them and have to look them up in the dictionary. Buber says we need real faith, which begins when we put down the dictionary.

If someone speaks to us, we should answer, we should respond. That, to Buber, is the essence of responsibility. Responding to what? Buber says, "To what happens to me, to what is to be seen and heard and felt." Thus, you clap your hands in joy at a beautiful concert, you cry at a beloved uncle's funeral, you went to a protest or rally because you were affirming your love for country, freedom, and justice. To Buber, "Only then, true to the moment, do we experience a life that is something other than sum of moments. We respond on its behalf, we answer for it. A newly created concrete reality has been laid in our arms; we answer for it. A dog has looked at you, you answer for its glance, a child has clutched your hand, you answer for its touch, a host of men moves about you, you answer for their need.

If we were to distill Buber's ideas on dialogue, we would say something like this: Dialogue is always a turning towards the other in his concrete reality, very much like what art does, but more than art, it is a relationship of the I and the Thou , it is an openness, a movement of love.

Gary Chapman

Gary Chapman has traveled extensively around the world challenging couples to pursue healthy, growing marriages. His first book, Toward a Growing Marriage (Moody, 1979, 1996), began as an informal resource he gave to couples with whom he was counseling. Once officially published, this book became a blessing to thousands of people and helped launch Gary’s popular “Toward a Growing Marriage” seminar.

Since 1979, Gary has written more than 20 books. His book, The Five Love Languages (Northfield Publishing, 1992, 1993), has sold 4 million copies in English alone and has been translated into 36 languages including Arabic and Hindi. He has also appeared on several television and radio programs and has his own daily radio program called “A Love Language Minute ” that can be heard on more than 100 radio stations across the United States.

The five languages are pretty straightforward, but here’s a brief description of what each of them mean:

 Words of Affirmation: Expressing affection through spoken affection, praise, or appreciation. 

One way to express love emotionally is to use words that build up. Solomon, author of ancient Hebrew Wisdom Literature, wrote, "The tongue has the power of life and death" (Proverbs 18:21, NIV). Many couples have never learned the tremendous power of verbally affirming each other.

Verbal compliments, or words of appreciation, are powerful communicators of love. They are best expressed in simple, straightforward statements of affirmation, such as:

"You look sharp in that suit."

"Do you ever look incredible in that dress! Wow!"

"I really like how you're always on time to pick me up at work."

"You can always make me laugh."

Words of affirmation are one of the five basic love languages. Within that language, however, there are many dialects. All of the dialects have in common the use of words to affirm one's spouse. Psychologist William James said that possibly the deepest human need is the need to feel appreciated. Words of affirmation will meet that need in many individuals.

Acts of Service: Actions, rather than words, are used to show and receive love. 

 By acts of service, I mean doing things you know your spouse would like you to do. You seek to please her by serving her, to express your love for her by doing things for her.

Consider actions such as cooking a meal, setting a table, emptying the dishwasher, vacuuming, changing the baby's diaper, picking up a prescription, keeping the car in operating condition — they are all acts of service. They require thought, planning, time, effort and energy. If done with a positive spirit, they are indeed expressions of love.

A willingness to examine and change stereotypes is necessary in order to express love more effectively. Remember, there are no rewards for maintaining stereotypes, but there are tremendous benefits to meeting the emotional needs of your spouse. If your spouse's love language is acts of service, then "actions speak louder than words."

Receiving Gifts: Gifting is symbolic of love and affection. 

Almost everything ever written on the subject of love indicates that at the heart of love is the spirit of giving. All five love languages challenge us to give to our spouse, but for some, receiving gifts, visible symbols of love, speaks the loudest.

A gift is something you can hold in your hand and say, "Look, he was thinking of me," or, "She remembered me." You must be thinking of someone to give him or her a gift. The gift itself is a symbol of that thought. It doesn't matter whether it costs money. What is important is that you thought of him or her. And it is not the thought implanted only in the mind that counts but the thought expressed in actually securing the gift and giving it as the expression of love.

But what of the person who says, "I'm not a gift giver. I didn't receive many gifts growing up. I never learned how to select gifts. It doesn't come naturally for me." Congratulations, you have just made the first discovery in becoming a great lover. You and your spouse speak different love languages. Now that you have made that discovery, get on with the business of learning your second language. If your spouse's primary love language is receiving gifts, you can become a proficient gift giver. In fact, it is one of the easiest love languages to learn.

Quality Time: Expressing affection with undivided, undistracted attention. 

By "quality time," I mean giving someone your undivided attention. I don't mean sitting on the couch watching television together. When you spend time that way, Netflix or HBO has your attention — not your spouse. What I mean is sitting on the couch with the TV off, looking at each other and talking, devices put away, giving each other your undivided attention. It means taking a walk, just the two of you, or going out to eat and looking at each other and talking.

Time is a precious commodity. We all have multiple demands on our time, yet each of us has the exact same hours in a day. We can make the most of those hours by committing some of them to our spouse. If your mate's primary love language is quality time, she simply wants you, being with her, spending time.

Physical Touch: It can be sex or holding hands. With this love language, the speaker feels affection through physical touch. 

We have long known that physical touch is a way of communicating emotional love. Numerous research projects in the area of child development have made that conclusion: Babies who are held, stroked and kissed develop a healthier emotional life than those who are left for long periods of time without physical contact.

Physical touch is also a powerful vehicle for communicating marital love. Holding hands, kissing, embracing and sexual intercourse are all ways of communicating emotional love to one's spouse. For some individuals, physical touch is their primary love language. Without it, they feel unloved. With it, their emotional tank is filled, and they feel secure in the love of their spouse.

Implicit love touches require little time but much thought, especially if physical touch is not your primary love language and if you did not grow up in a "touching family." Sitting close to each other as you watch your favorite television program requires no additional time but may communicate your love loudly. Touching your spouse as you walk through the room where he is sitting takes only a moment. Touching each other when you leave the house and again when you return may involve only a brief kiss or hug but will speak volumes to your spouse.

Once you discover that physical touch is the primary love language of your spouse, you are limited only by your imagination on ways to express love.

Chances are, you can relate to a few of these. Maybe you relate to all of them. But most of us have one or two that are much more important to us than the others, and it’s different for everyone. There’s really no scientific research behind Chapman’s theory; it just makes sense because it’s relatable. It’s obvious that we all show affection in different ways. These “languages” simply label those ways so you can understand people a little better.

When you know what your partner does and doesn’t care about, it’s a pretty big eye opener. For example, for years, I’ve been giving my significant other small gifts to show that I care. I put a lot of thought into those gifts, and I loved surprising him. It would piss me off when he’d receive them and just say, “Oh cool, thanks,” and then set it aside. That was not the reaction I wanted. By giving him a gift, I was saying, “I care about you,” and “oh cool, thanks,” is not a good reply to that.

Edmund Husserl

He was the man behind phenomenological movement. Born on the 8th of April, 1859 Prossnits Moravia

In years 1876-78 he studied astronomy in Leipzig, where he also attended courses of lectures in mathematics, physics and philosophy in Berlin.

He took his Phd in mathematics in Vienna.

 In 1900/01 his first phenomenological work was published in two volumes, titled Logical Investigations.

In the first decade of the 20th century, Husserl refined and modified his method on what he called “ transcendental phenomenology”.

 Died on April 27, 1938 in Freiburg.

His manuscripts were rescued by the Franciscan Herman Leo Van Breda.

The Natural Attitude

 Epochē, in Greek philosophy, “suspension of judgment,” a principle originally espoused by non-dogmatic philosophical Skeptics of the ancient Greek Academy who, viewing the problem of knowledge as insoluble, proposed that, when controversy arises, an attitude of non- involvement should be adopted in order to gain peace of mind for daily living.

 The term was employed in the 20th century by Edmund Husserl, the founder of phenomenology, who saw it as a technique, more fundamental than that of abstraction and the examination of essences, that serves to highlight consciousness itself. The philosopher should practice a sort of Cartesian doubt, methodic and tentative, in regard to all commonsensical beliefs; he should put them, and indeed all things of the natural-empirical world, in “brackets,” subjecting them to a transcendental suspension of conviction—to epochē. Without ceasing to believe in them, he should put his belief out of action in order to focus upon the sheer appearances of houses, trees, and people, which then become tantamount to the existence of his awareness of them. Thus, consciousness itself is immune to the epochē that dissolves its objects. The epochē has done its work, however, as soon as consciousness has been made manifest to his inner perception, for only then can consciousness be subjected to the same generalizing abstraction and examination of essence that had been applied to its objects. Thus, a pure phenomenology is produced that supplements the ontologies (theories of being) for special areas and explains how their objects appear or are given.

 To understand other philosophers’ views on Husserl’s thoughts about the natural and phenomenological attitudes it is necessary to understand what is meant by those attitudes in the first place. The natural attitude is referring to the state that man is normally in. This state is something man is in without having to think about it and how man goes about his life unquestionably. It is the simple idea that if man is thinking, then something must be doing that act thus man knows he is real. This is not a statement that man needs to reflect upon to understand thus he goes about his day in this natural attitude. The problem that many have with the natural attitude is exactly that: this attitude says that man does things without thinking and accepts them. How often does man really reflect on his natural thought process and why he does what he does? The answer is typically rarely or none at all. For example, how often do we think about the action of driving our cars to and from work or school on a route that we have been taking repetitively? Many times we get to our destination and thinking back on the drive, we wonder if we even stopped at the red lights or stop signs. We are that unaware of the things we do so often and the purpose behind them that it is difficult to reflect on them when we are rarely thinking about them in the first place. The natural attitude is the way we think and do things before thinking about why we do them. We have been so accustomed to them that we are comfortable without asking questions about these things and we go on doing them without doubt or concern.

 The natural attitude involves the natural world around us including other beings, things, and humans. The natural attitude falls among the people and things around us that make up our daily lives. So as we do not always question what we have known around us since the beginning of our life then we also do not typically question the people around us that are as normal to us as driving the same route to work every day. What man is consciously aware of intuitively is what is immediately on hand for him and involves everything he can be conscious of. This involves the specific things that are in man’s direct consciousness and then there are those things man is still conscious of, but they lie in the background without having to be particularly focused on. This attitude is more of a box with objects inside that is man’s consciousness.

 Eidetic reduction

 In phenomenology, a method by which the philosopher moves from the consciousness of individual and concrete objects to the transempirical realm of pure essences and thus achieves an intuition of the eidos of a thing— of what it is in its invariable and essential structure, apart from all that is contingent or accidental to it. The eidos is thus the principle or necessary structure of the thing. Being a science of essences, phenomenology finds this reduction important for its methodology.

 Because the eidetic reduction uses the method of free variation, it is not dependent on either mental constructs or concrete factual objects, although it takes its starting point in the knowledge of facts. Beginning with a concrete object, the philosopher can imaginatively vary its different aspects. The limitations of the fanciful variation are the effectively given—i.e., that which is given immediately and indubitably—and the eidos itself. The series of variations overlap, and the aspect in which they overlap is the essence. By thus moving from evidence in the perceptual sphere to evidence in the imaginative sphere, he can arrive at the invariable and essential structure of the object.

 Thus, the eidetic reduction is neither a form of induction nor an abstraction. In accordance with the phenomenological reduction, it abstains from any sort of positing of the actual existence of its objects, and it brackets, or holds in suspense, the concrete and factual content. On the other hand, it is not an empirical generalization that takes place at the level of man’s natural attitude.

Phenomenological Transcendental Reduction

 Under this step, reduce the object to the very activity itself of my consciousness. Instead of paying attention simply to loving, seeing, hearing, etc, I now pay attention to my loving, my seeing, my hearing, etc. I now become conscious of the subject, The “I” who must decide on the validity of the objects in experience. I now become aware of the subjective aspects of the object when I inquire into the beliefs, feeling, desires which shape the experience. In other words, the object is seen in its relation to the subject, and vice versa, the subject in relation to the subject. It is in the transcendental reduction that Husserl came up with the main insight of phenomenology: the intentionality of consciousness. For Husserl, every conscious act intends something. Consciousness is consciousness of something other than itself. If an act is present, the object is also present. Therefore, the character of the object is determined by the character of the act. Consciousness does not just adopt itself passively but rather, its very essence is to form meaning, to give meaning to the object.

 For phenomenologist, then, there is no object without a subject, and no subject without an object. The subject-of-the-object is called by phenomenologist as noesis and the object-for-the-subject is called the noema.  Put in other words, there is no world without man, and there is no man without a world. The world is a human world, and man is a being-in-the-world.

Gabriel Marcel

was a French philosopher, playwright, music critic and leading Christian existentialist. 

Born: December 7, 1889, Paris, France

Died: October 8, 1973, Paris, France

Education: University of Paris

Awards: Peace Prize of the German Book Trade, Erasmus Prize

 Phenomenology (from Greek: phainómenon "that which appears“) is the philosophical study of the structures of experience and consciousness. 

 The existentialist philosopher uses a phenomenological method less technical than Husserl’s. According to Marcel, reflection which is rooted in experience is of two levels:

 Primary Reflection:

 Breaks the unity of experience. It looks at the world or at any object as a problem, detached from the self, and fragmented. Primary Reflection is the foundation of scientific knowledge, for science assumes a stand where the world is apart from the subject. The subject does not enter in to the object investigated.

 Secondary Reflection: 

 On the other hand, recaptures the unity of original experience. It does not go against the data of PR but goes beyond it by refusing to accept the data of PR as final. The level of SR is the area of the mystery because here we enter into the realm of the personal. What is needed in SR is gathering, a recollection, a pulling of the scattered fragments of our experience.

 Who am I?

 From primary reflection, I can answer the question by mentioning my name, date of birth, height, weight – the items I would normally fill out in a registration card. But all these are contingent, relative to the inner self that I am. In the secondary reflection, I would have to penetrate into the inner core of my person.

 My Body

 Primary reflection would look at my body as a body like other bodies, detached from the self that would make it unique. My body would be the body examined by a physician, or perhaps the body that I sell in a prostitution house. But is this my sole experience of my body? Secondary reflection tells me that my body is mine. The way I carry my body is very unique. The dentist cannot experience the pain I feel when he pulls my tooth because my tooth is mine. And If I am a prostitute and still have a conscience, I experience (when I sell my body) a terrible feeling that I am selling myself.

 PRIMARY AND SECONDARY REFLECTION

 … the distinctive note of philosophic thought, at least according to my conception of it and I have many authorities for that conception, is that not only does it move towards the object whose nature it seeks to discover, but at the same time it is alert for a certain music that arises from its own inner nature if it is succeeding in carrying out its task. We have already said that the point about philosophic thought is that it is reflective, and it is into the nature of reflection, as an activity, that we must probe more deeply than we have done so far.

 As usual, I shall start with the simplest examples I can find, to show how reflection has its roots in the daily flow of life.

 I put my hand, let us say, into my pocket to take my watch out. I discover that my watch is not there; but it ought to be there; normally my watch is in my pocket. I experience a slight shock. There has been a small break in the chain of my everyday habits (between the act of putting my hand in my pocket and that of taking out my watch). The break is felt as something out of the way; it arrests my attention, to a greater or a less degree, according to the importance I attach to my watch; the notion that a valuable object may be lost arises in my mind, had this notion is not a mere notion but also a feeling of disquiet. I call in reflection to help me … but let us be careful here not to fall into the errors of an out-of-date psychology which isolated one faculty of the mind from another. It is very clear in the example I have chosen, and in every similar example, that reflection is nothing other than attention, in the case where attention is directed towards this sort of small break in the daily chain of habit. To reflect, in this kind of case, is to ask oneself how such a break can have occurred. But there is no place here for the kind of purely abstract speculation which, of its very nature, can have no practical outcome; what I have to do is to go back in time until I recall the moment when the watch was last in my possession. I remember, let us say, having looked at the time just after breakfast, therefore at that moment everything was still all right. Between then and now something must have happened to the watch. My mental processes are rather like—there is no avoiding the comparison—the actions of a plumber who is trying to trace a leak. Was there perhaps a hole in my pocket? I look at my pocket and discover that there is no hole. I continue with my task of alert recapitulation. Say that I succeed in recalling the fact that there was a moment when I put the watch down on the table; and there, let us say, that watch still is. Reflection has carried out its task and the problem is solved … Let us notice, however, even in connection with this almost childishly simple example, that I have made my mental effort because something real, something valuable, was at stake. Reflection is never exercised on things that are not worth the trouble of reflecting about. And, from another point of view, let us notice that reflection in this case was a personal act, an act which nobody else would have been able to undertake in my place, or on my behalf. The act of reflection is linked, as bone is linked with bone in the human body, to living personal experience and it is important to understand the nature of this link. To all appearances, it is necessary that the living personal experience should bump into some obstacle. One is tempted to use the following sort of metaphor. A man who has been traveling on foot arrives at the edge of a river where the bridge has been carried away by a flood. He has no option but to call a ferryman. In an example such as that which I have just cited, reflection does really play the part of the ferryman.

 But the same sort of thing can happen, of course, at the level of the inner life. I am talking to a friend, and somehow I let myself be drawn into telling him something which is an actual lie. I am alone with myself again, I get a grip on myself, I face the fact of this lie, how was it possible for me to tell such a whopper? I am all the more surprised at myself because I have been accustomed to think of myself, up to the present, as a truthful and trustworthy person. But then what importance ought I to attach to this lie? Am I forced to conclude that I am not the man I thought I was? And , from another point of view, what attitude ought I to take up towards this act of mine? Ought I to confess the lie to my friend, or on the other hand would I make myself ridiculous, to let my friend laugh at me, as a sort of punishment for having told him the lie in the first place?

 As in the previous example, what we have here is a kind of break, that is to say, I cannot go on just as if nothing had happened; there really is something that necessitates an act of readjustment on my part.

 But here is the third example that will give us an easier access to the notion of reflection at the properly philosophical level. I have been disappointed by the behavior of somebody of whom I was fond. So I am forced to revise my opinion of this friend of mine. It seems, indeed, that I am forced to acknowledge that he is not the man I believed him to be. But it may be that the process of reflection does not halt there. A memory comes back to me—a memory of something I myself did long ago, and suddenly I ask myself: “Was this act of mine really so very different from the act which today I feel inclined to judge so severely? But in that case am I in any position to condemn my friend?” Thus my reflections, at this point, call my own position into question. Let us consider this second stage. Here, again, I cannot go on as if nothing had happened. Then, what has happened? There has been this memory and this sort of confrontation that has been forced upon me, of myself and the person I was judging so harshly. But what does “myself” mean here? The point is that I have been forced to ask myself what I am worth, how true I ring. So far I had taken myself, so to speak, for granted, I quite naturally thought of myself as qualified to judge and eventually to condemn. Or perhaps even that is not quite the case: I used to believe or, what comes to the same thing, I used to talk like a man qualified to judge others. In my heart of hearts, I did not really think of myself as such a man. Here, for the moment at least, this process of reflection may terminate. Such a reflection may leave me in a mood of anguish, and nevertheless I have a certain sense of being set free, the sense of which I spoke in the last lecture: it is as if I have overturned some obstruction in my way.

 But at this point a twofold and important realization is forced upon me; on the one hand, I am now able to communicate at a broader level with myself, since I have, as it were, introduced the self that committed the dubious act to the self that did not hesitate to set itself up as the harsh judge of such acts in others; and on the other hand—and this cannot be a mere coincidence—I am now able to enter into far more intimate communication with my friend, since between us there no longer stands that barrier which separates the judge on the bench from the accused on the dock.

 We have here a very striking illustration of that important notion of intercourse, on which I was expatiating the other day, and no doubt we shall later have to remember this illustration when we begin to discuss the topic of inter-subjectivity properly so called.

 But meanwhile there are certain other observations on the relations between reflection and life that are pertinent at this point. There is a kind of philosophy, essentially romantic, or at least romantic in its roots, which very willingly contrasts reflection and life, sets them at opposite poles from each other; and it is permissible to notice that this contrast, or this opposition, is often stated in metaphors of heat and cold. Reflection, because it is critical, is cold; it not only puts a bridle on the vital impulses, it freezes them. Let us, in this case too, take a concrete example.

 A young man has let himself be drawn into saying rash things to a girl. It was during a dance, he was intoxicated by the atmosphere, by the music, the girl herself was a girl of unusual beauty. The dance is over, he comes home, he feels the intoxication of the evening wearing away. To his sobered mood, reflection does present itself, in such a case, as something purely and merely critical: what is this adventure going to lead to? He has not the sort of job that would make marriage a reasonable proposition; if he were to marry this girl, they would have to lead a narrow, constricted, life; what would become of love in such sordid circumstances? And so on, and so on … It is obvious that in such cases reflection is like the plunge under an icy shower that wakens one from a pleasant morning dreaminess. But it would be very rash to generalize from such examples, and even in regard to this particular example we ought to ask ourselves rather carefully what real relationship between reflection and life it illustrates. For I think we must be on our guard against a modern way of interpreting life as pure spontaneity. For that matter, I am not sure that spontaneity is, for the philosopher, a really distinct notion; it lies somewhere on these shadowy borders where psychology and biology run into each other and merge. The young Spanish philosopher, Julian Marias, has something relevant and useful to say about this in his Introduction to Philosophy. He says that the verb “to live” has no doubt a precise meaning, a meaning that can be clearly formulated, when it is applied, say, to a sheep or a shark: it means to breath by means of this organ and not that (by lungs or gills, as the case may be), to be nourished in such and such a fashion (by preying on other fish, by cropping grass), and so on. But when we are talking about human life the verb “to live” cannot have its meaning so strictly circumscribed; the notion of human life cannot be reduced to that of the harmonious functioning of a certain number of organs, though that purely biological functioning is, of course, presupposed in the notion of human life. For instance, a prisoner who has no hope of getting out of jail may say without exaggeration—though he continues to breathe, to eat, to perform all his natural functions—that his existence is not really a life. The mother of an airman might say in wartime, “While my son is risking his life, I am not really living.” All this is enough to make it clear that a human life has always its center outside itself; though it can be centered, certainly, on a very wide and diverse range of outside interests. It may be centered on a loved one, and with the disappearance of the loved one be reduced to a sad caricature of itself; it may be centered on something trivial, a sport like hunting, a vice like gambling; it can be centered on some high activity, like research or creation. But each one of us can ask himself, as a character in one of my plays does, “What do I live by?” And this is not a matter so much of some final purpose to which a life may be directed as of the mental fuel that keeps a life alight from day to day. For there are, as we know only too well, desperate creatures who waste away, consuming themselves like lamps without oil.

 But from this point of view, from the human point of view, we can no longer think of life as mere and pure spontaneity—and by the same token we can no longer think of reflection as life’s antagonist. On the contrary, it seems to me essential that we should grasp the fact that reflection is still part of life, that it is one of the ways in which life manifests itself, or, more profoundly, that it is in a sense one of life’s way of rising from one level to another. That, in fact, is the very point of the last few examples we have been taking. We should notice also that reflection can take many different shapes and that even conversion can be, in the last analysis, a sort of reflective process; consider the hero of Tolstoy’s Resurrection or even Rashkolnikov in Crime and Punishment. We can say therefore that reflection appears alien to life, or opposed to life, only if we are reducing the concept of human life to, as it were, a manifestation of animality. But it must be added that if we do perform this act of reduction, then reflection itself becomes an unintelligible concept; we cannot even conceive by what sort of a miracle reflection could be granted on mere animality.

So much for the relations between reflection and life; we would reach similar conclusions about the relations between reflection and experience, and this links up with what has been previously said. If I take experience as merely a sort of passive recording of impressions, I shall never manage to understand how the reflective process could be integrated with experience. On the other hand, the more we grasp the notion of experience in its proper complexity, in its active and I would even dare to say in its dialectical aspects, the better we shall understand how experience cannot fail to transform itself into reflection, and we shall even have the right to say that the more richly it is experience, the more, also, it is reflection. But we must, at this point, take one step more and grasp the fact that reflection itself can manifest itself at various levels; there is primary reflection, and there is also what I shall call secondary reflection; this secondary reflection has, in fact, been very often at work during these early lectures, and I dare to hope that as our task proceeds it will appear more and more clearly as the special high instrument of philosophical research. Roughly, we can say that where primary reflection tends to dissolve the unity of experience which is first put before it, the function of secondary reflection is essentially recuperative; it reconquers that unity.