metaphysics = the branch of philosophy concerned with explaining the nature of reality, being, and the world
I’ve spent the past few days trying to figure out what it is that bothers me about quasi-spiritual/neo-metaphyics books such as Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance (Robert M. Pirsig, 1974, subtitle: “An Inquiry into Values”), Siddhartha (Hermann Hesse, 1922, published in the U.S. in 1951), Jonathan Livingston Seagull (Richard Bach, 1970), and my most recently read: Illusions: The Adventures of a Reluctant Messiah (Richard Bach, 1977).
It’s not that I completely dislike the books. I do get something out of them. But there’s something about them that bothers me too, and I can’t figure out exactly what it is, apart from a general sense of unease. I have several theories: 1) My own religious background (growing up Christian) makes me hesitant to buy into any/any other systems of morality/living. 2) I don’t like being told what to do, and these types of books, while majorly (explicitly) telling you that what you do is your own thing, still minorly (implicitly) are telling you what to do. 3) The mystical aspects: My world is a real one, these worlds tend to, whether metaphorically or realistically, aim for some higher level of being–walking on water, walking through walls, understanding the great all. I’m not sure I believe, whether metaphorically or realistically, that any of this is possible. 4) They’re attempting to make thousands of years of buddhist and christian (et al) philosophy accessible and modernized. It’s a respectable goal, but perhaps too mainstream for my tastes.
And the parts that I do like, I like because they’re things I have already thought or things I agree with. But even these I sometimes flinch at because they remind me how self-focused my life philosophy is (yet how can it be otherwise?) and whether that’s selfish or just realistic.
Here’s some of the stuff I agreed with in Illusions.
- p. 81 “A person gets used to being alone, but break it just for a day and you have to get used to it again, all over from the beginning.” This has been absolutely true in my experience.
- p. 134 an examination of the fact that we do not, in fact, all live in the same world. Take that Wherehouse clerk who made fun of me! It’s in print, so it’s real.
- p. 144 “Every person, all the events of your life are there because you have drawn them there. What you choose to do with them is up to you.” I don’t necessarily believe this (and it’s a logical conflict because it’s relative. I’ve drawn you to me; you’ve drawn me to you. Who’s purpose ultimately wins, and does it matter?), but it does fit into my otherwise pretty solipsistic theories on living life:
- p. 155 “How about I allow the world to live as it chooses, and I allow me to live as I choose.” Basically my life theory, if I have to claim one, because it’s all you really can do, and you just have to hope that the two things (the world and you) don’t come into conflict too often. The problem can arise when you’re plodding along, living as you choose, but come into contact with people forcing their choices upon everyone else. It’s kind of annoying and it’s hard to fight for your way, without forcing it back upon someone else.
- p. 156-7 the golden rule doesn’t work. This is something very logical, but it wasn’t until college that I really realized it. Of course it doesn’t (esp. considering that different worlds thing). For ex., I don’t like being asked how my day was, so I don’t tend to ask people about theirs, but I’ve known people who do like being asked about their days, so it bothered them that I never asked. And there I thought I was just being nice.
- p. 147 “Just be who you are, calm and clear and bright. Automatically, as we shine who we are, asking ourselves every minute is this what I really want to do, doing it only when we answer yes…” more solipsism, i guess.
and disagreements?
- the idea that if you realize this world is all illusions, you can dispense with the rules of it (and walk on water/through walls, move immediately through time/space/worlds (JLS), etc. a la The Matrix) a) not true b) i’d choose this world with it’s good-tasting steak (vegetarian or not) over that “real” world any day. if that makes me the villain of the movie, sobeit.
- i didn’t like the end of Being There (the movie) either. it’s the only part i didn’t like.
- in addition to the theories above, maybe it’s just the slightly smug, i’ve-got-the-world-figured-out tone that bothers me. but maybe i’m just reading that into these books.
Things I like in Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance:
- The road trip/travel genre. (easy rider, two-lane blacktop, etc. love ’em. discovering yourself and life on the open road–how is it that i find smug tone annoying, but not the obvious genre cliches? go figure)
- p. 136 “The statement ‘To travel is better than to arrive’ comes back to mind again and stays. We have been traveling and now we will arrive. For me a period of depression comes on when I reach a temporary goal like this and have to reorient myself toward another one.” It’s the journey not the destination, sometimes true. Also, the bit about goals spoke to me because I had a lot of trouble “reorienting myself” after I graduated college with no goal in sight (besides meals and a place to live, I suppose).
- p. 284 “Anxiety, the next gumption trap, is sort of the opposite of ego. You’re so sure you’ll do everything wrong you’re afraid to do anything at all. Often this, rather than ‘laziness,’ is the real reason you find it hard to get started.” It’s true.
- The writer is obviously informed and makes some good points about philosophy.
Things I don’t like:
- Philosophy parading as a story.
- Some of the higher-plane ideas again
- some other stuff i don’t remember because it’s been awhile.
I don’t know if I worked through anything here, but it’s here anyway, to come back to someday.