The Philosophy of Moving
Paul Bowles’ “Points In Time” (highly recommended) contains the story of a wise man and teacher who removes himself from society by leaving town for a solitary spot in the wilderness. Pursued by his disciples who beg him to return and quiz him on the reason for his move he answers by taking a glass and filling it with water from the ocean: The water in the glass, now removed from the turbulent froth of tide and rocks, stands still.
Not all moves promise such peace. Some moves seem to disturb a settled state and throw us into disarray - both physical and psychic. I’ve just been through one such move.
After seven years establishing the insidious sediment of deliberate acquisitions and passive accumulations the act of wrapping it all up and putting it into the back of a moving truck (or three) comes as a shock to the system. It forces one to face the weight of one’s material load. And once the trucks have departed and trundled off (in our case) to long term storage, it reminds one that one can go quite happily about with a couple of bags and a credit card. Could it be that we didn’t really need all of that stuff?
Nature, inherently, involves motion. Our existence involves space in three dimensions and time. Time intrinsically requires motion, and motion intrinsically begets time. A universe without motion would be static and timeless. And a universe without time would be… well, in fact, would not be.
For human beings, time and motion take on higher-order paradoxical significance. Modern life is fast-paced. Self-reflection requires mindfulness and quieting the mind. Lack of motion implies sloth. Routine can be numbing or reassuring.
The act of moving inevitably stimulates experience. And this insight, I now realize, prompted me to write this post.
Whether we go out for a walk, or pack up and move on from seven years of history, changing our circumstances puts us into new circumstances. And new circumstances confront us with new experiences.
I’ve noticed that I am keenly aware of my new surroundings. We haven’t moved far; I was already quite familiar with our new neighborhood before we came to live here, and yet I feel as though I am inhabiting a new world, knee-deep in an alien culture. Each time I leave the house and walk down the block I examine and dissect the subtly unfamiliar sights and sounds of storefronts, church bells, and passersby.
Even the garbage piles intrigue me. What are the unwritten by laws around here for putting your trash out on the sidewalk for collection?
This open and engaged state of the mind in motion, I think, emerges from the very nature of our existence as mobile creatures in a changing world. Our minds respond intensely to change because if they didn’t we wouldn’t have survived.
A recent finding by neuroscience pioneer Fred Gage would seem to underscore this. Gage has discovered that our DNA is not, as had previously been thought, identical in every cell of our body. Where does it differ? In the brain. Gage postulates that this flexibility in the brain’s DNA has evolved as a way of ensuring that we can best meet life’s unpredictable challenges as we age. See DNA Brain Differences
I apologize for the wandering nature of this post. But I like that it’s brought me here. All of philosophy is experience. And all of experience is the mind in motion.
PS. For a little bemusement, read this Op Ed by Nicholas Kristoff, paid for by the Costa Rican tourist board - http://www.nytimes.com/2010/01/07/opinion/07kristof.html?em