The Provisional Utterance

It continues to be difficult to refrain from acknowledging the torment of writing, partially as it remains without an evaluative measure. It is not as some might understand this as an absence of measure but rather my personal dissatisfaction with some of which I have been privy to. I feel the need to echo J. L. Austin, unable to shake the provisional nature of my utterances. 

Writing has been akin to meandering through the forest, lacking clear pathways, signs, or clues. The inherent recursive movement a mere walking in circles as it were. Every now and then, one seems to come across spaces explored before. One could do several things at this point. Retrace their steps, recreate and push beyond previous exploration of the same space, something new.  

In this instance, I begin with a passage written eons ago. Let's see where I end up. 

An Old Clearing 

One of the more common "critiques" of "philosophy" has been about the practice being verbal (or textual). I have not been able to help but think that this critique somehow presupposes a particular dichotomy between discourse (be it textual, verbal, or cognition) and action. On the one hand, this sort of critique seems, to a certain extent, an inadvertent response to a species of people. Armchair activists, celebrities, charlatans, keyboard warriors, and self-help influencers, that regularly engage in the practice of expressing, through platitudes, in the interest of some form of capital, usually economic, political, or social.  It is difficult not to find such an expressed discourse lacking in detail, being epistemically unsound, and repeating itself in the handful of expressions endlessly. Would it not, then, bode well for us to refrain from conflating the expression of platitudes with one's capacity for introspection, reflection, and meditation? One's ability to turn inwards, to gauge past experiences and events, and direct attention onto subject(s) has a nature quite distinct. Inasmuch as it remains different, it is, and I’m certain Kierkegaardian would agree, our advantage or privilege over the beast. 

Whilst it is clearly and historically evident that not everyone has the affliction of philosophy, the reason continues to remain obscure to me.  Indeed, I do not use the word affliction lightly. In the absence of this affliction, there appears the seeming imperceptibility of despair as well.  

Notice the presence of “appears” alongside “imperceptibility” in the same proposition, highlighting the paradox at the heart of this. 

Indeed, Isaiah Berlin remarked that human action, for the most part, precludes philosophical and critical thinking from everyday life and that if everyone within society practiced or undertook such an approach and conduct it would be difficult to make societal progress. Conversely, he stressed about the implication of an absence towards said thinking, that that is how societies decay. Insofar as this delicate relationship situates philosophy humbly within human welfare, it falls short of explicating the conditions necessitating philosophy.  

The aforementioned, at this stage, is not a critique. 

This delicate relationship echos itself within the relationship between individuals and their particular Kierkegaardian despair. Whether this essay(s) is but a regurgitation of the link is not beyond reproach. 

An Adjacent Yet New Clearing 

Being seems to endure. Independent of my engagement in the practice of "philosophy", life goes on. Discussions with others is beginning to reveal the partiality of my work. There is much that remains to be done, and in earnest, much that will remain even after I'm done.  

If I understand this correctly, then. 

I discover myself within my geworfenheit. 

This seems true as it seems to have happened. 

Or, more accurately, the happenance seems to offer this perception affectually.  

This realisation or, better yet, discovery precipitated following the, then, conclusion of the Event. Somewhat equally, there was an emerging discernment of my particular milieu. Thus, began the exploration in the form of an AutoEthnography. The, then, excavation and examination of the artefacts of said AutoEthnography impressed upon me, the presence of my despair. Whether this particular despair is the general one, remains beyond me. Alas, that it is but mine seems doubtless. 

The Other has always been one of my notable shackles, almost like a distraction. 

Almost always with respect to the Kierkegaardian Spirit. 

To state that memory, or more accurately, my memory is an impediment, would be quite expedient. It is certain that the foremost concern is, some part, contingent on memory. The concern remains almost perfectly obscure without it. This obscurity, whilst implicit, seems to serve as a backdrop to the Kierkegaardian despair.

Another Adjacent, Albeit Old, Clearing 

For at this moment, I cannot but rely on my memory. For, it has been a while since I have seen these pieces together. But they were borne out of a particular period in my life, quite recently. And now I am at a distance from them. How timely, then, to have come across this other piece by another. 

We are all, always, prey to the care of here and now; of a thousand and one trivialities all our days are made. - Marjorie Grene

How timely indeed for today I spoke to B about these things tangentially. Earnestly he inquired about my writing plans for the summer, to which my only response was that I planned to write. 

But I digress. 

Time to Step Up Camp 

One must accept this process for what it is; flawed, arduous, and, yet, enthralling. It remains forever difficult to speak of these matters, which some might call recondite. As it struck me the other day, within the confines of the blank page, I find and continue to find solace and freedom. Freedom from many things but primarily from the judgements of others. I say judgements but truly what I mean is their cursory suppositions. These I find to distract and derail me.  Admittedly, I've allowed myself to be derailed for too long. 

It must be stated again 

We are all, always, prey to the care of here and now; of a thousand and one trivialities all our days are made.  - Marjorie Grene

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Bibliography

Austin, J. L. (1962). How to do things with words. Harvard University Press.

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Kierkegaard, Søren. The Sickness Unto Death: A Christian Psychological Exposition for Edification and Awakening. (2021 Edition). Translated by Alastair Hannay. Penguin Classics. A seminal existential work examining despair and selfhood. Available at: The Sickness Unto Death on Amazon.

Grene, M. (1957). Martin Heidegger. George Braziller. https://www.amazon.co.uk/Martin-Heidegger-M-Grene/dp/B0006D6YKG

Magee, Bryan, & Berlin, Isaiah. “Isaiah Berlin in Conversation with Bryan Magee.” YouTube Interview. A conversation exploring pluralism, freedom, and the challenges of philosophical inquiry. Watch here: Isaiah Berlin in Conversation with Bryan Magee.

Marcus Aurelius. (2006). Meditations (M. Hammond, Trans.). Penguin Classics.

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Wittgenstein, L. (1953). Philosophical investigations (G. E. M. Anscombe, Trans.). Blackwell Publishing. https://amzn.to/4kPr8Ph