February 17, 2024: Practicing Philosophy

Practicing philosophy is neither about the question nor the answer. It’s about experiencing a question that strives for an answer using you — your mind, your spirit. We can even say the following: Practicing philosophy is about forming and attempting to answer a question that is unresolvable. (Everything that falls outside of this, no longer belongs to the practice of philosophy; it belongs to science. Although, it is also important to note that all knowledge, including science and religion, belongs to philosophy.)

A philosopher needs a good amount of observable truths or facts to generate hypotheses as well as theories. But he doesn’t need to generate truths or facts.

A philosophy is always personal. A philosophy — if it really is a philosophy — can only disguise itself as being impersonal. When someone reads your philosophical text, a part of you replaces a part of him. He becomes a little more like you — a little more like your philosophy. You transfer (duplicate) a part of you into the other. We can call this the reproduction of ideas because it is how they survive, evolve, etc.

Reading philosophy is a lot like eating. Your mind will digest what it can (or needs to) digest. The rest will turn into philosophical fat or feces. Coming back to a philosophical text is a repetition that teaches you something new. It changes you differently. Rereading a philosophical work is not the same as relearning the same thing. You cannot relearn. You can only learn new things through repetition.

Philosophy is the love of wisdom, not wisdom. Loving something is different than being something. If you love a woman, you are the lover of the woman. You do not become the woman by loving her.

Philosophizing is not something you do to get somewhere. Philosophizing is something you do when you get somewhere. It is the child of boredom; and therefore, it is a leisure activity. In fact, this is what I’ve been doing for the last 30 minutes or so…

January 22, 2024: On Over-Motivation

Motivation overdose is as hindering as sloth. The fetters of over-motivation are made of the same material as the ones used to make the fetters of idleness. Only the former is much more attractively designed than the latter.

Of course, it’s simply an excess or lack of motivation that I’m dealing with here — too full to work versus too hungry to work.

The idle man is one “motivation” (push) away from becoming productive. The overly motivated man has been pushed so hard that he finds himself outside of Earth’s stratosphere. The overly motivated man, so that he becomes productive again, needs to decrease the amount of burning motivation in him one way or the other.

Like a man who has thrown too many logs into the campfire, the whole forest is at risk now.

I’ve been experiencing over-motivation more frequently since the start of the year, and it’s becoming very frustrating. To solve this, I’ve been trying to channel this overabundance of energy into creative activities, such as writing poems, reading difficult books, and composing songs. But even this isn’t enough most of the time. My mind is like a hungry frog’s tongue, catching one flying idea after another and putting them inside me even though I’m full. How can I deal with this? It may feel amazing, but the end result is disappointing. Eating so that you have available calories during exercise is one thing, but eating until you explode is another.

I wake up with a list of self-improvement action items I’d like to complete during the day. I really want to do them, but I end up doing almost nothing about them. Why? Too much motivation.

Over-motivation is deadly; it can even impede the attainment of ordinary goals. You become so motivated that it becomes impossible to sit down (or go out) and get to work. You want to do everything at once; however, since that is impossible, you end up doing nothing instead. It’s an “all or nothing” kind of feeling. And it’s bad.

The energy flows in your veins like abounding electricity generated by vast amounts of fossil fuel. You may even feel like a nuclear power plant. But the electricity you are generating is going to waste. Your mind is flooded with ideas, plans, and objectives that seem so achievable, within a hand’s reach. But these achievable objectives are like mirages in deserts. The overdose of motivation makes you run towards the oasis, but when you get there, there’s nothing but hot sand colored by the blazing sun.

In a Flight of Starlings: The Wonders of Complex Systems Book Review

January 15, 2024: In a Flight of Starlings

Earlier today, I finished reading Giorgio Parisi’s In a Flight of Starlings: The Wonders of Complex Systems. Honestly, I expected it to be a little more potent. If we can compare an Italian scientist to an Italian scientist, it could have at least been as good as Carlo Rovelli’s Helgoland: The Strange and Beautiful Story of Quantum Physics. But it wasn’t.

Yet, Parisi’s book is filled with aha moments. To read it is not a waste of time. The doors open, and we enter the mind of a physicist from the back door. This is what happens behind the scenes. This is how scientists think.

And it seems to me now that all good scientists are somewhat into literature and/or philosophy. The references I come across in their books are enough to prove me right.

So, it turns out, only pseudo-scientists who lack creativity say, “Philosophy is dead.” And their statement can also be considered true because, in them, philosophy is dead.

Reading In a Flight of Starlings reminds us of something we tend to forget: There’s poetry everywhere, even in physics.

Before I close this entry, here are two quotes from Giorgio Parisi’s book:

“The physicist sometimes uses mathematics ungrammatically; not following all the rules of grammar is a license that we grant to poets.”

“In the sciences as in poetry, there is hardly a trace in the finished product of the arduous work that the creative process has demanded, or the doubts and hesitations that have been overcome in order to achieve it.”