Tag Archives: philosophy

Free Will; Life’s Painful Choice

For the past two days, I’ve been grappling with a stubborn headache. I tried the classic remedy of popping pills, hoping for that sweet relief. Strangely enough, yesterday, I decided to take a different route – no medications, just a good old rest. Spoiler alert: it didn’t work. The pain escalated until I gave in and grabbed the pain reliever. Miraculously, the pain started to bid adieu.

In the midst of this headache saga, I found myself pondering a question that’s been debated for centuries: do we really have free will, or are we just swimming in a sea of choices? It’s a bit like my headache dilemma – to take or not to take the meds.

Enter the intriguing world of free will. Picture it as this cosmic remote control that lets us decide our actions, like choosing whether or not to endure the throbbing pain in our heads. Some folks argue that our choices are predetermined, like following a script. Others say we’re the authors of our destinies, flipping through the pages as we please.

Now, imagine you’re in a cozy bookstore, browsing the philosophy section. You stumble upon a book called “Freedom Evolves” by Daniel Dennett. This guy dives deep into the free will debate, suggesting that our freedom to choose evolves over time. It’s not a static trait but a dynamic dance between our biology and the environment.

Dennett compares our evolving freedom to a game of chess. In the beginning, the moves are limited, but as the game progresses, more options open up. Similarly, as we navigate life, our choices become more nuanced and complex. It’s like upgrading from a basic chess set to a three-dimensional holographic version.

So, back to my headache-induced musings. Maybe our free will is a bit like choosing whether or not to medicate a headache. We might not control every twist and turn, but in those moments of choice, we get to play a hand in the unfolding story of our lives.

In the end, whether it’s battling headaches or contemplating the mysteries of free will, the journey is often more interesting than the destination. After all, life’s choices are the colors that paint the canvas of our existence, headache and all.

The Art of Not Doing Anything: A Stoic Sofa Saga

Imagine this: a lazy Sunday afternoon unfolds, and I find myself sinking into the inviting comfort of my sofa, a sanctuary of relaxation. The soft cushions cradle me as I consciously decide to give myself a break, a moment to simply exist. However, a persistent voice in my head urges me to get up, be productive, and tackle the to-do list awaiting my attention.

Despite this internal push, I am determined to resist the siren call of chores and responsibilities. It’s not about laziness; it’s a deliberate choice to indulge in the simplicity of doing nothing, allowing the world to spin on its own for a moment while I catch my breath.

Yet, beneath the surface of this seemingly serene scene lies a storm of frustration and chaos within. The relentless pressure to achieve more, do more, and be more has taken its toll. It’s akin to navigating a ship through turbulent waters, desperately seeking a calm harbor amid the chaos.

As I grapple with the urge to jump up and start cleaning, my thoughts shift to a broader reflection on life. Similar to the ongoing struggle between rest and responsibility, my days have often been a relentless push to achieve, a constant motion to keep the wheels turning. This pattern echoes in relationships – the desire to perpetually contribute, fix, and improve, sometimes overshadowing the simple joy of being present.

In this contemplative state, I stumble upon the Stoic principle that champions the art of “not doing anything.” It’s not about idleness or neglecting responsibilities; it’s a deliberate pause, a conscious choice to step back and let life unfold without the need for constant interference. The Stoics understood the power of stillness, the wisdom in allowing the world to run its course without feeling the need to control every aspect.

Amid my internal sofa saga, the profound truth behind this Stoic principle becomes evident. Embracing the act of not doing anything offers a unique perspective. It’s akin to standing on the shore and observing the waves – becoming an observer of our own lives, attuned to the ebb and flow without being swept away.

The art of not doing anything is a rebellion against the modern ethos that glorifies busyness and constant motion. It’s a declaration that, at times, the most profound moments occur when we release the tight grip of control and allow life to unfold organically.

The concept of embracing moments of stillness and not constantly striving to control or intervene aligns with certain Stoic principles. Stoicism, an ancient philosophy, emphasizes the importance of accepting what we cannot control and finding tranquility in the midst of chaos. While the specific phrase “the art of not doing anything” may not be a direct Stoic quote, the sentiment resonates with Stoic ideas about maintaining inner peace through a measured and thoughtful approach to life.

So, here I am, still on the sofa, resisting the urge to succumb to the frenzy of productivity. I am not slacking off; I am embodying the Stoic wisdom that lies in the simple act of being present, of savoring the quiet moments in a world that never seems to stop. It’s a rebellion against chaos, a rebellion that brings peace. Settling into this moment of stillness, I can almost hear the whispers of my intuition, telling me that alignment with the heart begins with the serenity found in doing nothing at all.

“Amid the bustling symphony of life, the sofa becomes my silent refuge—a canvas for the art of not doing anything, where the Stoic philosophy and my personal saga intertwine in a tranquil dance of stillness.” -Suzette Lyn