OPM 123 is a reminder of the spirit of the project, its audacious sincerity that borders on expressing the naivety of faith, or the writing of a 'holy fool': "Diminishment or emptying of the self prepares the way for the stewardship that is the devotion of the Tao, the care for Being...In turn, the one who devotes himself to the Tao is the one who bears the tidings of the relationship between Being and Learning. The bearing of the news...is identified in the comportment of the Sage, [his] poetic dwelling that we identified as 'humility'. Humility is manifested to all the world...in his offering himself as most capable of learning."
Here we see the phenomenology revealing the force of the faith in the project. Nothing but faith would give someone the confidence to write, with utter sincerity, about the devotion to the Tao and care for Being. Of course both parts of that are referential and can be identified in specific moments in the writings of Lao Tzu and Heidegger. But this would never be known if one hadn't encountered those citations along the way. In lexicon of musical soloing this is call 'indexing,' when a specific phrase (usually the basic melody of a well known song) is 'quoted' by the soloist unexpectedly. The index only works, however, if you recognize the melody, and in this sense the performer is demanding both a high level of attention (what I call 'painstaking listening') and a fairly robust musical literacy. The same is expected with Being and Learning, which, as Sam Rocha noted in his review of the book, makes it appear as if a line of thought will be suddenly discontinued only to be taken up again twenty pages later. This non-linear writing par excellence. A kind of writing that demands the reader sustain an almost impossible amount of patience. But in this sense the writing is calling forth to the reader with the very ontologies being documented in the meditations. And in this sense the meditations have the epistle quality of Paul, the exemplary community builder!
It is not at all surprising to make this comparison with St. Paul, especially when describing this project as reducible to the faith of the holy fool. While my primary reference to the figure of the holy fool is Dostoevsky, he derives his literary figures that are express that persona from Paul's writing of the 'fools for Christ.' The holy fool is the counter-cultural figure who flaunts their faith in the public or rejects the conventions of that same public by exiling himself from it. Examples are too numerous, but the ones I am most familiar and inspired by are: Francis removing his fancy clothing in the square of Assisi and declaring himself a brother of Christ (and from that moment onward donning only a habit), and the 5th century Syrian saint Simeon, who stood atop a column for 39 years. (I learned of Simeon when I was in Spain and studying the films of Luis Bunuel, specifically, his 1965 film Simon del Desierto)
I suppose what I am saying is that the daily writing of these meditations has a lot of characteristics of the holy fool behavior, not to mention the content of what they represented. It goes without saying that the experiment of writing each day with the style I used is 'foolish' from the expectations of academic philosophy. And the 'rationale' (if one can use this word to describe a work propelled by faith) is found in what is said each day in the writing. We find this in OPM 123: "To be a learner is to be 'devotional,' to be dedicated and wholly applied to the task at hand...The diminished self is the emptied self...Openness is the bourne that is borne in upon the learner. When a bourne is 'borne in upon' it becomes the bearing of the one who has received it. The bourne that is 'borne in upon' "becomes one's firm conviction." This is the 'devotional' modality of the learner..."
3.0 - (Sunday) In the 2.0 commentary I was recognizing what I have emphasized a bit in this 3.0 commentary: that the original project was truly uninhibited, as designed. Looking back 20 years later I feel relieved that I went for it. Academia is organized around conformity, for better or worse. Back in 1991 when I was living in Italy and preparing for my doc oral exams, I read with some intensity Thomas Kuhn's "Structures of Scientific Revolutions." I practically memorized the book for a question that asked for a comparison with Popper. Kuhn left a last impression on my, especially his distinction between "normal" and revolutionary" science. His philosophy of science is organized around the category of "paradigms," which is his translation of Wittgenstein's "language game." The "conformity" I am referring to is what Kuhn calls "normal science," and it a time when there is a solid "paradigm," a linguistic consensus around the ways we talk about things, such as "education." Each scientific community, and his book is about the natural or "hard" sciences, has a consensus that defines their field of study, for a time, anyway. That consensus starts to shift when a new way of describing things in the field changes. Theories are the basis of paradigms, so when I new theory comes along that seems to capture the imagination of researchers, they begin to shift away from the consensus and start to adopt new ways of talking. The emphasis on description and talk is important. The period of transition, when the consensus is suspended, is described by Kuhn as "revolutionary." That's when new ways of describing emerge, and compete for becoming the basis of a new paradigm. This is what the original project was designed around: the possibilities that emerge in a period of revolutionary science. Did I believe my poetic and speculative style would shift my field? No, because the field is not organized around a consensus. There have been moments when figures such as Dewey and Freire have appeared in more than a few papers presented at the annual conference. These are the two I encountered belatedly in grad school and were the principals that lead me into philosophy of education. But for the most part the field is organized into subgroups. One is "in" a group if one talks about things in a particular way. And back in 2004 when I was doing this experiment there wasn't much interest in pushing beyond the boundaries. By 2015 when I was the program chair of the conference that was organized around the recovery of philosophy as mousikē, and I invited presenters to "make" philosophy, I was able to open up for at least 4 days a moment of revolutionary science. (A filmmaker friend of Rocha's recorded a video of me describing the Memphis event is posted on eduardoduarte.net). "To recall the ancient beginnings, and anticipate new arrangements in the order of things. This is the way of originary thinking." While the current writing is not as poetic speculative and uninhibited, I continue to explore the principle enacted in the experiment: the originary. In fact I am more interested in describing how that principle appears in the dialectic, each moment initiated by the originary. This is why I wrote earlier this week: Learning gets underway with the first moment of the dialectic, with the interruption of the self’s dialogue with itself. The first moment of the dialectic happens with the appearance of opposition or contradiction, or what is called “negation.” As Jean-Paul Sartre describes it, negation is the moment within the dialectic when we are turned around toward Being in the form of Nothingness, which we experience as the negation or suspension of what we have taken for granted. From an educational perspective, “nothingness” appears as a possibility, as what is “not yet”.
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