Originally posted by epiphinehas
When I use the term "nihilistic" I am referring to the tendency of your philosophic paradigm (non-dualism) to divest human life of its natural anthropic significance. You posit a source of all things which cannot be communicated, out of which we arise, wherein every intellectual attempt to conceptualize it falls as into an abyss. One may be able to spe verything its proper place, and gives everything a purpose.
More later...
When I use the term "nihilistic" I am referring to the tendency of your philosophic paradigm (non-dualism) to divest human life of its natural anthropic significance.
I really think you mean “supernatural” significance here. (Am not sure how you’re using the term “anthropic”.)
...and that those objective contents simply cease to exist the moment we do, then I think it can be correctly said that the ground of all being rightly divests life of any meaningful portent, since our whole lives exist as a mere superficial film upon the metaphorical "surface" of the "One."
If you mean portent beyond this natural existence, okay.
I don’t know that I would describe my life (or yours) as “superficial”. Any more than I would describe listening to Beethoven’s Ninth as “superficial” simply because the concert will end.
In fact, I would argue that systems positing an eternal afterlife
tend to relativize this unique existence in the face of eternity.
I am not a superficial film, but a unique manifestation that is precious precisely because of its transience. In the face of that transience, "There are no ordinary moments." (Dan Millman)
In the face of such a prospect, the best and most respectable philosophical attitude to take would be Stoicism; or some type of resignation.
The only resignation necessitated in Stoicism is acceptance of what is beyond one’s control anyway. Aside from the fact that the Stoic
theos is nature, and not a supernatural being, the “Serenity Prayer” is precisely Stoic. Personally, I tend to be more Sisyphean (in the sense of Camus’ Sisyphus). I am of course, resigned to death—as I am to the ending of the symphony. Call me a lively and passionate Stoic, if you wish (perhaps more like the Greek Stoics, than the Romans?).
Approaching the world philosophically as if the immediate subconscious perceptive agency of our bodies were the deepest and most profound truth about who we are is, in my view, backwards.
I don’t think I’ve said exactly that. What I have said is that the conscious but pre-conceptual (non-conceptual) experience of being is a “bedrock” beyond which we cannot get. You claim that we can, but you are already stepping back from the brink into conceptualizing-mind when you claim that whatever it might point to is effable.
To be frank, you are unsatisfied to let the ineffable mystery be just that. The
tathata. The suchness of it just as it is. As Alan Watts put it: “the Which than which there can be no Whicher”. I think you are painting legs on the river...
...we must trade in our own meanings for the objective truth.
I do not see positing the supernatural category as “objective truth,” clearly. The objective truth (albeit not in a propositional sense) is just that
tathata. We add conceptualization—which, as Sepia Tint pointed out in the other thread, is also in its way an aspect of our
tathata. We are, as it were, map-makers—but the map is not the territory; and we also have to recognize that our maps are inescapably self-referential. I am not only in the
tathata; I am
of it as well.
You cannot escape from the territory to live in the map, no matter how much more satisfactory the map seems to you than what is. And that is what I think positing the supernatural does: it strives to create a map that is more satisfactory than the territory. If all that is, is removing oneself to the mansions of one’s own mind in the face of suffering, I have no criticism—as long as it is acknowledged. (Such a strategy, when necessary, is as Stoic as it is Buddhist; you can find it in Epictetus as well as Gautama.)
_______________________________________
I also think that death is a pre-eminent issue here—if not the pre-eminent one. You believe (if I am not mis-representing you) that your individual life, or anyone else’s, loses its significance in the face death. I am saying that that is precisely what imbues my life with significance. I exist now. Tomorrow I very well might not.
When I keep that in mind, it takes the pressure off, so to speak—and I can treat a discussion like this one as another theme in the symphony. When I forget that, I wander off from the symphony. I waste precious time in anxiety over things that I cannot control. Like a man listening to the orchestra (or playing), who suddenly wonders if he remembered to lock the door at home. He begins to worry. He loses track of what is before him. His mind becomes divided.
Tathata is: when you’re listening to the symphony—listen to the symphony. When you’re conversing with friends—converse with friends. When you’re cooking—cook. When you’re making love—make love. When you’re thinking—think. When you’re sleeping—sleep.
“Above all, don’t wobble!”