14.06.07

Massage Your Mind!: Tackling Your Angus Issues

Non-Assigned

I read a quote in one of those celebrity columns recently that
just blew me away. It’s not that I believe everything I read,
especially when it comes to Hollywood, but for the sake of
discussion, let’s assume that the quote was correctly stated.

It was attributed to Angus Young, member of the band AC/DC.
Think big arena rock, throbbing bass, and screeching vocals. You
could identify an AC/DC song in the first few measures by its
distinctive bass line and ribald lyrics. Many fans have smirked
in recognition of the adolescent angst celebrated in the songs.

So here’s the quote attributed to Angus: “I don’t listen to
music. I stopped listening 25 years ago when I started making my
own.”

Oh, Angus. Wow. That has got to be the most radically
conservative thing I have ever heard.

What’s so amazing about this is that we all do the same thing.
We establish certain ideas and opinions about things and we get
attached to them. They become part of our identity. We build our
lives around ideas we may have had when we were in our twenties.
If we’re aware of these ideas at all, we might notice that we’ve
changed our minds over the years, but for the most part, we tend
to hang on to our opinions for decades. It’s just easier that
way—no need to go there and think through that again!

This thinking and rethinking is what philosophy is all about.
Socrates said that the purpose of philosophy is to help us
become “excellent human beings”. Our experiences help shape our
philosophies, but our minds give us the ability to think
logically and apply our knowledge.

Socrates himself always said that the only thing he knew for
sure is that he knew nothing. He was fond of saying that there
are two categories of beings that do not engage in
philosophy—the gods or sages, who are already wise, and the
senseless people, who THINK they are wise. A philosopher is a
person in the middle, someone who is not yet wise but at least
knows it.

That’s not a bad place to start.

The best philosophers are those who inspire us to think for
ourselves. The French philosopher, Rene Descartes, really zeroed
in on that idea. He was a brilliant mathematician who later
became known as the father of modern philosophy, and his
“Cartesian Method” remains an integral part of mathematical
studies as well as a time-tested approach to scientific
research. It basically breaks down the process of inquiry into
manageable pieces.

Got a problem? First, you break it down into smaller pieces.
Then, you arrange these pieces from the simple to the most
complex. Next, you analyze each one, beginning with the simple
ones and moving on until you tackle the most difficult concepts.
Finally, his approach required the investigator to keep
analyzing the tough notions, even when they seem unfathomable.
We use this approach all the time without realizing we’re being
so Cartesian.

But the most revolutionary concept Descartes introduced was that
of universal doubt. Since the times of the early Greek
philosophers, the field of philosophy was generally regarded as
the study of the theories of the great thinkers, and required a
whole lot of discussion around which thinker had the most
profound ideas.

Descartes came up with a revolutionary notion—that each of us
should approach philosophy from scratch. In other words, we
could study the great philosophers if we wanted to, but then we
had to throw out all those ideas, stripping everything down to
its most basic elements, and come up with our OWN ideas. This
seemed preposterous to many at the time. What…we should think
for ourselves? But, why? HOW?

Descartes wasn’t satisfied basing his own life philosophy on the
ideas of others. He believed we should each tackle the big
questions and think our way through the process of reaching our
own conclusions. So, in true Cartesian style, he started with
the most basic concept first. We all know that classic annoying
backseat question, “Are we there yet?” Well, try this one on for
size: “Are we here now?”

Descartes came up with a famously succinct statement in response
to this timeless question: “I think, therefore I am.” (In Latin,
Cogito ergo sum) If I am here contemplating this question, it
means I am alive and thinking. If I am alive and thinking, then
it follows that I must indeed be here. Whew! Glad that’s
settled.

Of course, it isn’t really settled. You could spend a long time
thinking about that, and I invite you to do so. For now, let’s
go back to Socrates.

Picture this odd-looking guy wandering around Athens in a shabby
cloak and barefoot. In all places, at all times, in everything
he does, he is grabbing every opportunity in his daily life to
ask questions.

He doesn’t ask easy questions. He asks hard ones, probing ones,
ones that maybe even piss you off. As he used to say about
himself, “I am utterly disturbing and I create only perplexity.”
Hmm. I think we all know people like that. The thing is, we
rarely think of them as philosophers. Perhaps we SHOULD.

Socrates’ purpose was to question his peers so that they would
question themselves, their ideas, their choices, their very way
of life. He liked to stir things up, but his intentions were
pure. He looked upon himself as a midwife, helping people give
birth to their own truths, their inner possibilities. And, like
childbirth, that process could be messy and painful. He could
put people in a foul mood. He understood implicitly that the
value of asking questions is not in finding answers, but in
revealing ourselves.

We can learn a lot about ourselves and our own life philosophies
by asking ourselves this: What are my Angus issues? What
thoughts have I attached myself to? When did I last spend time
rethinking these issues?

Let’s use the ol’ Cartesian method here, starting with simple
ideas and moving toward more complex ones.

Start small. Look at an opinion you have, like “I hate country
music.” Hmm. Okay. Is that ALL country music? Is that ALL
country singers? Is there not a single country song or artist
that I like? What would it be like if I didn’t have that
opinion? What would it be like if I had the OPPOSITE opinion?
Would my friends laugh at me? Would I have to hide my CD
collection? Would I start wearing cowboy boots? What really
bothers me about country music? Why do I get so riled up, anyway?

Examine the differences between ideas and habits. Perhaps you
are more attached to one than the other. In the country music
example, how much of your opinion is based on your idea (“I hate
it, so I never listen to it.”) and how much on your habit (“I
never listen to it, so that means I hate it.”)?

After you’ve tackled some little Angus issues, move on to bigger
ones. Let’s say you don’t believe in life after death. You think
that once you die, it’s all over. No spirit, no heaven, no soul,
no nothing. On what have you based this notion? When is the last
time you revisited this idea? What would it be like if you
didn’t have that belief? What would it be like if you strongly
embraced the OPPOSITE concept?

Your goal: to become aware of the thoughts shaping your daily
life, and to begin questioning them. It might be disturbing. It
might be invigorating. I hope it’ll get you thinking.

We need more thinkers on this planet!

Go and share: These icons link to social bookmarking sites where readers can share and discover new web pages.
  • OnlyWire
  • Socialize-It
  • Digg
  • del.icio.us
  • Furl
  • StumbleUpon
  • Netscape
  • YahooMyWeb
  • Reddit
  • Slashdot
  • Ma.gnolia
  • RawSugar

Search
Categories
Feeds