COVID, Montaigne, and Attentiveness

For many people in my circle of care and friendship, COVID has brought a profound sense of loss, a sense of fragility. I feel that too, quite acutely. But perhaps, right there, is an opportunity for reorienting. Perhaps such a seeping sense of impermanence reasserts an existential truism common to many wisdom traditions—the centrality of attention and mindfulness to a good life.

As Bakewell’s splendid biography highlights, Montaigne's essays repeatedly point us to that theme, so much so that the philosopher Maurice Merleau-Ponty describes him as someone who put "a consciousness astonished at itself at the core of human existence" (60). Such a commitment to attentiveness only intensified as Montaigne got older. "Knowing that the life that remained to him could not be of great length, he said, 'I try to increase it in weight, I try to arrest the speed of its flight by the speed with which I grasp it…. The shorter my possession of life, the deeper and fuller I must make it" (61).

Few life-truths press upon us with greater alacrity, regardless of age. But how to grow into it?

Engaging Stoicism (2014)

Some time ago, in 2014 to be precise, I jotted down a few thoughts Stoicism attractive. I read through to them the other day and made a couple of changes. Nothing comprehensive, just a brief take.

First, I agree with how the Stoics treat happiness in light of broader metaphysical and cosmological questions. In other words, happiness isn't simply about feeling better, but about living in tune with reality. By “reality,” I mean questions of cosmology, human nature, various natural and supernatural ends, basic goods, etc.—in other words, the struggle to aligned ourselves with how things actually are. That my understanding of ultimate reality diverges from Stoics in key points does not detract from this basic premise.

Second, I agree with the Stoics that living in the present is essential to living a meaningful life. For me, as a Christian, that includes a nurturing of continued God-consciousness.

Third, most of our problems come from passions (negative emotions) and wrong judgments. Getting a handle on automatic negative thoughts is thus essential to personal well-being. (CBT is built on that basic insight.)

Fourth, that is why attentiveness (prosoche) or vigilance is so important. To capture the swelling up of negative emotions such as anger and self-pity, to detect the birthing of prejudical or uniformed thoughts—that deserves our utmost energy.

Fifth, I agree with their contention that eudaimonia (happiness or subjective well-being) comes from the possession of moral and intellectual virtue; of acquiring, in biblical terms, the fruits of the Spirit. At the same time, I recognize that full human flourishing—flourishing understood in a holistic sense—demands the promotion and protection of basic human goods. It is always better to be healthy, have friends, have food and shelter, live in conditions of justice, be accorded basic rights, and so on than to be deprived of them.

Sixth, difficult situations afford opportunities for growth. By facing them with courage, hope, a growth-mindset, and positive reframing, we nurture resilience. So, rather than allowing fear and self-pity to overwhelm us, we can say, “Good, here is an opportunity for me to grow,” or, “Here is an opportunity to live in the kingdom of God.”

Seventh, I believe that happiness is related to training, to a craft of living that allocates an important space to “spiritual” exercises (askesis) such as reflective meditation on events, expressions of gratitude, negative visualization, journaling, etc. As a Christian, I would add: prayer, Bible meditation, imaginative contemplation, fasting, etc.

Eight, the key aim of these exercises is greater self-awareness, which we all need desperately. Of course, inwardness on its own has significant limits, plagued as it is by mental foibles such as introspective illusion. We need feedback from others as well. Above all, we need the Spirit to lead us into all truth.

On Attention and the Flow of Time

There is this section in Sarah Bakewell's bestselling biography of Montaigne How to Live, where she writes about the centrality of attention—that one indispensable ingredient, or rather capacity, for living well that Montaigne so admiringly mastered and embodied. Along those lines, he repeatedly reflected on the connection between attuned awareness and the thickening of time’s flow. In fact, as he got older

his desire to pay astounded attention to life did not decline; it intensified…. Knowing that the life that remained to him could not be of great length, he said, “I try to increase it in weight, I try to arrest the speed of its flight by the speed with which I grasp it…. The shorter my possession of life, the deeper and fuller I must make it.” He discovered a sort of strolling meditation technique: When I walk alone in the beautiful orchard, if my thoughts have been dwelling on extraneous incidents for some part of the time, for some other part I bring them back to the walk, to the orchard, to the sweetness of this solitude, and to me. At moments like these, he seems to have achieved... an ability to just be.

An ability to just be. Synonyms: to dwell; to rest; to be silent; to be present; to be grateful; to be receptive; to be in awe; to be content;… One of the lessons I take to heart from the book of Ecclesiastes and many a Psalm, for sure...

On Wrestling and the Inconspicuousness of Reality

Initially, I had a hard time justifying the strained nature of this post title. What spiritual or art-of-living significance is there for sharing Roland Barthes' semiotic decoding of wrestling in his Mythologies? Well, I can think of several reasons. At the very least, Barthes models a punctilious askesis or discipline of noticing. Even if the "The World of Wrestling," be it as a theme or the actual spectacle of it, is not your thing—it certainly isn't mine—Barthes' interpretive perspicacity is nothing short of beguiling. Admittedly, I've had many preconceptions of wrestling, but none that distilled from it similes about the intelligibility of reality and the moral order of life. Wrestling as a saturnalia of elemental binaries—truth/falsehood, good/evil! Just add to it the aesthetics of the contest and you summarily find yourself in the realm of the three transcendentals—the true, the good, and the beautiful.

That is why reading (the early) Barthes on this point is so rewarding. It gives you the feeling not unlike one of being enlightened by an art connoisseur to perceive compositional elements of a painting that have escaped your analysis. Personally, I stand in need of guides who prompt you to attentiveness; who give you interpretive tools to uncover the unapprehended, the inconspicuous. (That partly explains my attraction to Iris Murdoch). A thinking concerned with "practices of everyday life" (de Certeau) must, at the very least, begin there. And wouldn't Jesus, as one who stood attuned to the symbolic actions of foes and friends, be a prime exemplar in this regard too?

In any case, in the concluding section of his essay, Barthes notes, somewhat convolutedly, but quite brilliantly, how wrestlers

who are very experienced, know perfectly how to direct the spontaneous episodes of the fight so as to make them conform to the image which the public has of the great legendary themes of its mythology. A wrestler can irritate or disgust, he never disappoints, for he always accomplishes completely, by a progressive solidification of signs, what the public expects of him. In wrestling, nothing exists except in the absolute, there is no symbol, no allusion, everything is presented exhaustively....

When the hero or the villain of the drama, the man who was seen a few minutes earlier possessed by moral rage, magnified into a sort of metaphysical sign, leaves the wrestling hall, impassive, anonymous, carrying a small suitcase and arm-in-arm with his wife, no one can doubt that wrestling holds that power of transmutation which is common to the Spectacle and to Religious Worship. In the ring, and even in the depths of their voluntary ignominy, wrestlers remain gods because they are, for a few moments, the key which opens Nature, the pure gesture which separates Good from Evil, and unveils the form of a Justice which is at last intelligible.