They
know not how many things are signified by the words stealing, sowing,
buying, keeping quiet, seeing what ought to be done.
—Marcus
Aurelius, Meditations, Book 3 (tr
Long)
As with
so many terms, especially those that concern our human actions, we speak of
“seeing” both literally and figuratively. I will say that I see something with
my eyes, and I will also say that I see it in my mind. Similarly, I will hear
the words from someone’s mouth, and I will hear him when I understand what he is
thinking. I will sense the object in my hand, and I will sense its meaning. I
will get a package in the mail, and I will get something when I have figured it
out.
If I say
that I love strawberry ice cream, and that I love my wife, or if I say that I
want to go to sleep, and that I want to be happy, I am using a word on two
different levels. In one way, I am speaking of a desire within my body, and in
another, I am speaking of a decision within my mind and will. These are
reflections (see, there’s another one of those words) of two distinct but
necessarily related aspects of our humanity.
Now
Stoic physics generally argued that everything was “matter”, though I have
always suggested that the Stoics understood matter in a much broader sense than
we do. The unity of being in Stoicism, of a single Universe in which all things
are emanations, avoids the difficulties of treating “matter” and “spirit” as
two distinct or separate realms. Yet to say that the Universe is all matter is
not to say that it is all sensible matter, but it also admits of intelligent
matter, which is mind. There is lower matter that is moved, and higher matter
that causes motion.
My
reflection is becoming a bit too much like one of those annoying classes I have
taught too often, and for that I apologize. I simply wish to propose that the
materialism of our age is fixated only with the lower degree of matter, of that
which concerns a sensible body. The Stoics, I think, saw something else behind
it all. They knew that mind directed, ordered, and gave purpose to sensible
bodies.
This is
the other kind of vision that I believe Marcus Aurelius speak about. It is not
seeing with the eye, but comprehending with the intellect. Perhaps I have been
reading philosophy for far too long, or perhaps I am simply an odd fellow, but
when I look at so many people around me, it often seems as if they are bodies without
heads. It is indeed a grotesque image, but a fitting one nonetheless.
What Vedanta
Hindu philosophy called “gross matter”, as distinct from “subtle matter”, is
all we seem to care about, and we define our lives by the desires of our gross bodies.
The mind has been all but removed from the picture.
We want
pleasure, so we reduce love to a mere sexual act. We want possessions, so we
reduce ownership to a mere collection of things outside of us. We want respect,
so we reduce character to a mere reception of status and esteem.
Virtue,
the act of choosing to live with excellence, is hard to find, and has been pushed
aside, along with dignity, integrity, and conscience. Gratification replaces morality,
and getting replaces giving.
A human
being is no longer a who, a creature
gifted with insight and freedom, but a what,
a bag of instincts and nerves. Living is no longer about thriving in joy, but
surviving in conflict. Engage others by insulting and demeaning them, and never
consider that engagement is possible with care and kindness.
I have
heard those stories about chickens running around with their heads cut off. I
hardly think them ridiculous. I see it very often when I go to work, shop at a
store, get on the Internet, or try to renew my license at the DMV.
Yet I
will still always find the beauty of men and women who see not only with their
eyes, but also see with their minds. They see what ought to be done with the
vision of reason, and they understand that other people are not objects, but
subjects. A man is made of lumps of flesh, that can be bought and sold as a
commodity, but he also has a divine spark that makes him priceless.
Some
people look at stealing, sowing, buying, keeping quiet, or seeing what ought to
be done in terms of a utility of the passions. They see life as a balance
ledger of profits and losses for their convenience. Other people look at these
same things in terms of right and wrong. They see life as a limitless giving of
the self.
Seeing
can indeed mean very different things.
Written in 7/2011
Image: Joshua Reynolds, Self-portrait (c.1748)
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