Introduction

The one thing that I don’t do on this blog is “ambulance chase”. I know for some, it’s tempting to “cash in” on recent horrific events that have occurred, and now fills the airwaves, be it news, blogs, and, heaven forbid, political speeches. I believe it’s unfortunate, and says something about our society, that we don’t start “thinking” about things seriously until major crises cause us to stop and reflect. The downside of such a modus operandi is that little “thinking” is done, but a crap-load of reactivity fills the air, particularly from newscasts, talk shows, and politicians.

We hear a lot these days about the notion of worldviews: a Western worldview versus an Eastern worldview; a Christian worldview versus an atheistic worldview; an individualist worldview versus a collectivist worldview, and so on. During the Cold War, there was a worldview in front of and behind the Iron Curtain. But what exactly is a worldview? My purpose for this blog is to explore that question, as well as to encourage people to think, read, and live worldviewishly. Rather than merely reacting to the world and its events, which at times do shake us to the core, is it possible that we can we develop some understanding about the world and the people in it prior to events that come at us? If so, perhaps we can lay a foundation in thinking that allows us to understand what we encounter in life. Can we develop a core that, instead of crumbling, stands the test of the storms of life?

In the discussion that follows, I’m indebted to the work of James W. Sire and many of the books he’s authored. Specifically related to this blog, I draw from his two works, The Universe Next Door and Naming the Elephant, primarily the former. I will utilize Sire’s definition of worldview, as well as the seven questions he delineates that we can ask so as to understand one’s worldview. But there’s a larger question than merely defining and outlining ways we can possibly understand other people’s worldviews. Sire addresses this head-on in his works. We can think and read worldviewishly, as Sire says; however, we also have to live our worldviews. And in fact we do, whether or not we are aware of it. Going beyond mere description, I hope this blog leads one to question his or her worldview and consciously shape it so as to live it out. One of the tough questions of life is whether or not we align what we do or act with what we claim to know. Knowing and doing are two sides of the same coin. If what we’re doing, i.e. how we are living, does not align with what we claim to know or believe, then either we truly don’t understand what we know, or we are simply lost in self-deception.

Rather than reacting to life and following like little lost sheep our favorite talk-show host, politician, or some other guru who claims to have answers to life for us, let’s do the hard work of shaping our own thought, becoming aware, and living out what we claim to believe or know.

Defining Worldview

I believe it was T. S. Eliot who said, minor poets emulate, great poets steal. So I’m going to cop James W. Sire’s definition of worldview from his work, The Universe Next Door. (Since I’m at least referencing him, perhaps he will forgive me my theft.) Sire’s definition contains several components I want to delineate. But first let’s look at his definition:

A worldview is a commitment, a fundamental orientation of the heart, that can be expressed as a story or in a set of presuppositions (assumptions which may be true, partially true, or entirely false) which we hold (consciously or subconsciously, consistently or inconsistently) about the basic constitution of reality, and that provides the foundation on which we live and move and have or being. [p. 17].

This lengthy and rich definition is one that we must unpack. We can glean several components from what Sire has spelled out: commitment; orientation of the heart; expressed in a story or set of presuppositions; held consciously or subconsciously; open to critique as being true or not; lived consistently or inconsistently; and a foundation on which we live out our lives.

Commitment

A worldview that one holds reaches deep into the core of his or her being. It is a matter of the heart in that one’s worldview entails one’s mind, emotion, and will. Hopefully, our worldview is one on which we build wisdom, that is knowledge and understanding applied to living skillfully, fruitfully, and fully. Sire comments, a worldview is situated in the self – the central operating chamber of every human being. Our worldview is such that we say, I’m committed to thus and thus; this is on what I stand. Our worldview is our channel to how we answer the question: How should I then live?

Expressed in A Story or Set of Presuppositions

When we think about how we would describe our worldview to others, obviously we use the tool of language. We may use the tool of narrative, expressing what we believe in some form of a story that makes sense to us. Likewise, we may draw on some form of logic to express what we believe in an interrelated set of presuppositions. Expressed in propositional form, a worldview is our statement about how we make sense of the world, our place in it, and our relationship to others who populate our world. With our worldview, we seek to make meaning of our existence.

Assumptions Which May Be True, Conscious, or Consistent

The notion of a worldview being true, partially true, or entirely false entails that we leave open our worldview to critique. Such an act sounds easy, but it is exceedingly difficult. To critique our worldview involves our capability to step back from our view of things, critically appraise them, and possibly look at them from other viewpoints. How do I step out of my worldview to accomplish such a task? Rather than the entire worldview, we may have questions about various components of our take on existence. To alter certain components of a worldview, however, can lead to minor or major shifts in our thinking. Questioning, analyzing, and critical inquiry allows us to do such assessment. The importance and the will to do so, however, may be built into our very worldview. If our worldview is closed to critical inquiry, then we are trapped in a maze of subjectivity.

It would be comforting if all of us were fully aware of what we believed. As finite human beings, that simply does not appear to be the case. Many times it takes experiences that shake up our thinking to discover that we are not living the way we thought we were. Other people, as well, can point out to us, or at least question us regarding our consistency with what we claim to believe. These experiences, too, call for our being open to our willingness to question, analyze, and assess. Knowing and doing is a powerful dynamic in life. The recognition that we are living out what we claim to know provides a powerful sense of fulfillment. Likewise, becoming aware of those times when we are not consistent in doing what we claim to know, allows us a corrective. Moreover, such awareness may lead to our questioning the foundations of our worldview, which, in turn, can lead to worldview shifts.

The Foundation on Which We Live

Again, knowing and doing is a powerful dynamic in life. Our worldview, as Sire points out, may not be exactly what we think it is. No doubt, however, what we show in our words and actions has much to declare about our worldview. Our worldview is the foundation off which we act and move through life. Personal and private analysis of our worldview must begin with profound reflection on how we actually behave. I personally believe there is nothing more disturbing than when I realize that I’m living in a disconnect with what I claim to believe and hold as true.

Thinking, Reading, and Living Worldviewishly

In this technological age, we encounter people from all over the globe who live in different cultures, with totally different backgrounds, values, and language. We also consume an extraordinary amount of books, magazines, blog articles, movies, plays, as well as all the various art forms from painting, photography, to sculpture. How do we think about all the worldviews that form the foundation of what people think, say, and do? Or do we think about it all? Rather than merely defining worldview, I hope this blog encourages readers to think, read, and live worldviewishly. James W. Sire, in his book, The Universe Next Door, provides seven questions we can ask, not only about our own worldview, but also about other people’s worldviews as they proffer what they theorize, hypothesize, think, as well as how they act and live out what they believe.

The questions Sire puts forth are as follows: 1) What is prime reality – the really real? 2) What is the nature of external reality, that is, the world around us? 3) What is a human being? 4) What happens to a person at death? 5) Why is it possible to know anything at all? 6) How do we know right from wrong? 7) What is the meaning of human history?

Most philosophers, theologians, ethicists, artists, and others may not have an answer for all these questions, but they most likely have considered some of them in detail. Indeed, systems of thought seek to answer these questions in some systemic and logical manner. The questions cover the gamut of philosophical thought that people have asked from the docks and streets to the ivory tower of academics. Ontology, identity of nature, anthropology, death and finitude, epistemology, and understanding of history are all covered by these seven questions. And they are questions we can ask as we talk with others, read what others write, think, and say, as well as recognizing how they live. They are questions we can ask about our own take on existence as well. Then there are those uncomfortable questions: How am I living? Does what I do align with what I claim to believe? If not, how should I then live? Knowing and doing – how do we put it togehter? These questions, as well as others, can help us think, read, and live worldviewishly.

Conclusion

No doubt, Sire’s discussion and what I’ve said here are couched in a worldview. We cannot escape our worldview, even to think about, discuss, and act on our and other people’s worldviews. Hopefully, this blog will encourage readers to reflect upon, contemplate, and delineate their personal view of existence. I believe if we have a solid understanding of what we believe, how we think about the world and others, and how we grasp the major questions of life, then we might be less reactive when we encounter horrific events. Moreover, we can begin to think for ourselves rather than jumping on the bandwagon of newscasters, talk-show hosts, and politicians. My personal worldview calls us out to embrace the freedom to think about our own lives, shape our worldviews as consciously, with as much awareness as possible, and to live them out as consistently as we know how. All the time, however, we remain open to critique, analysis, and further understanding. From my worldview, such a process is called personal and spiritual growth.

John V. Jones, Jr, PH.D., LPC-S/June 14th, 2016

GENERAL ESSAY

Introduction

I have a confession to make. I am addicted to reading. There is no better way I like to spend my time, leisure or otherwise, than exploring the pages of a book. I’ll take a plunge into anything I can get my hands on that has to do with ideas, creativity, imagination, or critical inquiry. I devour books on a consistent basis, taking in poetry and prose fiction, as well as non-fiction essays, well-researched biographies, philosophy, science, theology and Christian thought. In a word, I love to read, research, and study the history of ideas. Most of all, I enjoy delving into the mind of various thinkers to explore how they used their creativity and imagination to derive their theories. What were the roads they traveled to reach certain conclusions? What were the experiences they encountered and barriers they faced in shaping their thought? What difficulties and nagging doubts did they have to work through to get to where they got? What fortuitous events played in contributing to their creativity and discovery? I could go on and on because since reading has become such a habit for me, I find myself at times in what Csikszentmihalyi Mihaly describes as flow, sitting with a book deep into midnight and the early morning hours without noticing how much time has passed.

For 25 plus years, I also have worked as a professor. Teaching at the university level was a goal I set for myself many years ago, and through sinuous paths eventually reached my target. I have discovered, however, that reaching one goal is only a starting point for many other ventures. I believe my paths will always take me into the history of thought, and the impact that ideas have had on people across history. From my perspective, being a good prof entails taking complex information and breaking it down into more simplified forms so that students can digest it. That does not mean over-simplifying information, but clarifying it in ways that students can take it in, process it, and hopefully be encouraged to explore it at deeper levels. Even apparent simple information may rest on a ton of unexplored premises. What is meaningful for me is getting at the ideas and thoughts that lie behind certain claims to truth. Such work I could not do if I didn’t thoroughly enjoy reading the way I do, or if I didn’t form the critical habits that go hand-in-hand with directed reading and analyzing information. I consider such a life of reading, studying, and teaching to be my calling. There is an exhilaration that goes with reading and studying that I believe emerges from both the heart and the mind. Much too often, these two ways of experiencing life are placed in conflict with one another. This blog article explores the heart and the mind and their relationship to reading and studying. How do these two aspects of our being human contribute to what goes into the effort after understanding, and how do they explain an individual’s passion for knowledge and wisdom?

Reading Directs Thinking versus Thinking Directs Reading

There’s reading. And then, there is reading – study, analysis, critical inquiry, determining whether or not what an author says holds together. Even if an author makes a good case, do I agree with his or her position or not? Why or why not? Does a theorist’s claims align with, alter, or expand on how I see and understand things? Although now and then I enjoy relaxing with my detective and other kinds of light fiction, the more critical type of reading is what I pursue most of my time. There are more books than one can imagine that delineate different ways, methods, and techniques of how to read and study. Method and techniques applied to reading, while important, are areas I want to explore in the near future. For now, on this blog, what I want to touch on is the notion of how both the heart and the mind hold a place in an effort after knowledge, understanding, and wisdom. Some might ask: are not the heart and the mind at odds in such pursuits? This discussion revolves around an approach to Biblical reading called Lectio Divina, a topic for another blog. At this point, suffice it to say that such an approach to reading was developed fully in the Middle Ages to get at the meaning of Biblical texts in the pursuit to know God. I first came across these ideas on reading through Christian writer James Sire’s, Habits of the Mind. Sire addresses the apparent conflict that has raged across the ages, the clash between reading with the heart versus reading with the mind. He designates these ways of reading respectively as Reading Directs Thinking versus Thinking Directs Reading. To pursue a life of reading and study in the manner that Sire discusses, one must develop what he calls a habit of mind. Much of what I discuss on this blog I take from Sire’s work.

Many who practice Lectio Divina will not accept much of what I’ll say in this article about this approach to reading. Historically, Lectio Divina has been approached as a mystical encounter with a Biblical text. Although I do not discount such experiences, I prefer Sire’s position that addresses the need to combine head with heart rather than pitting them against one another. As a Christian, I would rather approach Lectio Divina as both an encounter with Scripture (Reading Directs Thinking) and as an approach to studying the text (Thinking Directs Reading) to get at its meaning, what the author seeks to convey, and what implications the text has for living out one’s life. Both habits of reading, I believe, go hand-in-hand, rather than being antithetical to one another. Sire points out that in the Middle Ages, monastics and scholastics were at odds regarding Biblical reading and study. When the monastics emphasize the habit of Reading Directs Thinking at the expense of the other, the scholastics believed they unwittingly fell into a personal and radical subjective mysticism that could not be held in check regarding the truth of Scripture. When the scholastics exercised the habit of Thinking Directs Reading over the former, monastics believed they instituted a cold scholasticism, an intellectualized Christendom that lacked the Biblical emphasis of humility leading to understanding and wisdom. Note, however, that with either position both reading and thinking are involved. The scholastic scholars believed the monastics, however, handed thinking and rationality the short end of the stick. The monastic monks countered that the scholastic scholars viewed Biblical texts as just another object of study without any implications for one’s life. Such distinctions may mean little to those who do not profess Christianity. But for those of us who do, how do we combine head and heart in approaching Biblical texts?

Reading Directs Thinking. When Reading Directs Thinking, the reader encounters the text, takes it in, so to speak, and breathes in the text so as to live it outwardly. The meaning of the text addresses the core – the heart – of the reader who seeks to garner meaning from the text. Readers draw on their own experience as they engage the written words. Texts are read repetitively, slowly, thoughtfully, and reverently. This type of reading draws on our memory because the words we read we have read before. We have a previous understanding of what they mean based on our repetitive reading of the texts. The experience of reading is a personally contextualized one, and what we encounter  impacts us through an inner spirituality. Those who seek to let Reading Direct Thinking speak of a text as staying with them, haunting them, revitalizing them, or refreshing them. The monastics would have no part of the Scholastics’ efforts to analyze, critique, and systematize their understanding of various texts, particularly Biblical texts. The monastics viewed such endeavors as antithetical to spiritual formation. No doubt, however, mysticism led to a disparagement of the mind in the development of theology and Christian thought. An emphasis on rationality was suspect to these monks who set rationality against spirituality. The monastics valued what they regarded as the heart’s way of knowing.

Thinking Directs Reading. When Thinking Directs Reading, one engages serious study of a text. We study a text to mine it for information, to gain perspective, to obtain reflective insight, to see the text in its proper context, and to hopefully garner from the text what it sets for us to understand, and how it calls for us to live. The Scholastics were reading Biblical texts to learn the truth. Their take on understanding involved a highly rational approach to study. They did not care to track with the monastics and what the scholastic scholars viewed as an extreme mysticism. These scholastic scholars, such as Thomas Aquinas and those who came after him during the Reformation, used a variety of methods, tools, and historical contexts to study and exegete the text. Through the centuries, Biblical study methods have continued to develop through such efforts as the study of original languages, (Greek, Hebrew, Aramaic, etc.), and the field of textual criticism. No doubt, excessive scholasticism contributed its share to an intellectualized theology that sought to reconcile Christian ideas with philosophical categories rather than seeking to answer philosophical questions via Christian thought. These scholars emphasized a form of rationalism that could lead to intellectual understanding without spiritual formation. The Scholastics valued what they regarded as the mind’s way of knowing.

There is a need to heal the tear between the heart and the mind. I think this is particularly true regarding Biblical texts. If we are to read so as to build knowledge, to gain understanding, to acquire wisdom, and to discover truth, we must study, analyze, and critique, using all the critical tools available to carry out our tasks. Additionally, we must also accept the fact that texts mysteriously engage and touch us on a deep level, passionately speaking to us regarding how we are presently living our lives, showing us how we should be living our lives day-to-day, and forcefully challenging and convicting us toward acting on what we understand to be true. The separation of these two approaches is tantamount to dissecting the mind from the heart, soul, or spirit. It is taking the human being, placing him under a microscope, dissecting his parts, and never putting him back together again.

Conclusion

Sire rightly, I believe, views the monastic-scholastic split, the heart versus the mind, as a false dichotomy. From a Biblical perspective he points to the greatest commandment, Matthew 22:37: Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul, and with all your mind. Sire speaks to the need to combine the heart and the mind. Whether it’s reading Biblical texts or poetry, prose, and non-fiction, Sire holds, and I agree with him, that we can approach various texts, encounter them, enter them, yet back away and critique and study them. Reading without study can lead us to miss important meanings in the text. Study without passionately confronting the text can lead to a cold intellectualism that can, in turn, lead to our overlooking the impact that a text has for our lives. For next month’s blog article, I will delve into the six-point technique that Sire describes in his approach to Lectio Divina, as well as his recommendations for how to combine heart and mind in reading, sharing his examples of various texts to approach and study.

Does Reading Direct Thinking, or does Thinking Direct Reading? There is a tension here that I think we must simply hold onto and embrace, seeking not to dichotomize the two approaches, and to avoid rending the heart from the mind. Perhaps Pascal’s quote holds this tension best: The heart has reasons that reason cannot understand. In Scripture we read constantly about the heart and the mind, as well as the soul and the spirit. What do the words, mind, heart, soul, and spirit really mean in describing the human being? What part do they play in our reasoning, gaining knowledge, and living wisely? Perhaps rationality alone will not answer such questions for us. But for those of you who love to read, reflect on how you approach texts that you enjoy reading.  Ponder how and why you find personal meaning in reading and studying certain texts. Choose some short passages over the next month and read them repetitively, attending to them closely. Become aware of how your understanding of them might develop as your read them slowly, attentively, and repetitively. Then think about those texts you have read and choose those into which you would more deeply like to delve so as to analyze them more closely. Utilize any tools you find necessary for your study – historical contexts, lexicons, word studies, commentaries, language tools, etc. Such an approach to texts is for those who love to read, study, analyze, and critique, so as to accrue a deeper understanding of what they read, to obtain meaning from what they read, and to garner something regarding the truth.

John V. Jones, Jr., PH.D., LPCS/May 14th, 2016

GENERAL ESSAY

[This discussion is the third of a three-part exploration of the human capacity for meaning-making. This article also continues a series I began in October, 2015. The series of articles as projected into the future will cover various themes that I explore with clients within the counseling framework I practice.]

– – Commit all your work to the Lord, and he will establish your plans. (Proverbs 16:3)

Introduction

I believe that one of the major struggles for our lives entails our finding meaning and purpose in our day-to-day living. People might experience the Proverb that I quoted to introduce this discussion on meaning making in a variety of ways. Some people might wonder why plan at all. Other people might ask: What is my part in the struggle of living? Although I believe the Proverb allows for rest, it does not provide an excuse for irresponsibility, lack of planning, or slothfulness of any kind. There’s a commitment to what one believes, and in the case of the Proverb, in whom one believes, and then there follows the day-to-day planning out of how one lives. There’s an ultimate promise, but there is nothing included in that promise that offers a guarantee that one’s day-to-day journey will be smooth sailing. The working out of life involves our daily grind of carrying out our plans, while being committed to our values, and facing the experiences that life throws at us. I firmly believe that it is through these hour-by-hour, day-by-day, and year-to-year experiences that we come to understand how we make meaning of our existence. Our mind is a wonderful tool to help us reflect upon, embrace, and make sense of our experiences. Yet we can use our mind to do something else that can take us off track of our journey. We can easily get lost in the search for abstractions, what I call in the quest for meaning, the search for the Big M.

The Big M

Have you ever been There? You know, that place everyone is trying to reach. I’m not sure where There is, but it has some seemingly common characteristics. It’s a place where I no longer have to strive, work, or struggle. It’s a place where everything will be answered, and I’ll have no more questions. It’s a place where I no longer have to fear anything at all or be concerned about the vicissitudes of life. I will have arrived. I’ll be There. As a Christian although I believe in a place of faith and rest, I do not believe that any such place as There exists for our human experience – not on this side of life anyway. Nor do I believe that we are promised such a life. On the contrary, I believe that meaning, rather than being some ultimate discovery that resolves every question about life, can be achieved through our daily tasks of living. I can find meaning in the moment – just living, breathing, seeing the beauty of nature, enjoying the day, relaxing in the moment, and reflecting on simply being alive. But more importantly, I can find meaning in the way I face my daily grind of living and seek to make sense of the experiences that life brings my way, those enjoyable, as well as those that are painful. When I seek to live out what I claim to believe and value, both failing and accomplishing that day-to-day, I can begin to make meaning of what it is to carve out a life.

When our quest for meaning, however, becomes the search for the ultimate, one-time discovery – the Big M – it can become a frustrating and disturbing quest indeed. We all know and have heard various metaphors: the proverbial pot of gold; the secret oracle that sums up all life’s questions; the miracle that removes all problems of living from one’s calendar. The search for the giant M in the sky will frustrate people for the simple reason that the nagging question tends to hang on as to whether or not they have, in fact, discovered the right M. Viktor Frankl spoke, instead, about meaning being an achievement that we carve out through our day-to-day struggles. The Book of Proverbs and Ecclesiastes address the need to seek for and acquire wisdom for living. The problem with the Big M is that it too easily becomes an empty abstraction. No doubt I can say that I find meaning through my family, friendships, work, art, community, etc. Such statements can entail day-to-day concrete experiences, or they can be meaningless and empty abstractions. I can make the summation that, I find deep meaning in my career. But how does that summation unfold in the hours I pour into my work that, in fact, leads to something meaningful and purposeful? Is it something I merely say that lacks evidence that my work is truly meaningful? Even as a Christian, I can make the claim, I find meaning ultimately in God. Such a statement can indeed be truly meaningful to the person who makes it. But do I carry it out in a day-to-day realization? If not, then such a statement, as pious as it sounds, can be as empty as any other abstraction that has no connection with living.

As Frankl puts it, I can encounter the daily tasks of living as drudgery, something merely to get through, or as meaningful experiences that hold something to teach me about living. That is not to say that all experiences are of equal value, but they are all part of our living. How we face them and carry them out says much about our mind – our attitude toward living, our modus operandi of  how we approach the tasks of life. I believe the most important contribution to our meaningful existence entails clarifying what we indeed believe in our heart-of-hearts, what we truly value, and then living in alignment with what we claim. Such a way of living seems to me to address the notion of fulfillment and joy, knowing that life will involve all the crazy and sinuous paths that will challenge what we claim to believe while also helping us adjust our compasses of how we go about life.

The Big M is a trap. Be aware of it. Be leery of it. Abstractions without concrete realizations, rather than having meaning, are empty of meaning.

Conclusion

As I reflect on this three-part series on the quest for meaning, I purposely have framed the discussion to encourage anyone to step into the journey for the quest for meaning. I hope to embolden anyone to, indeed, ask the bold questions about meaning, purpose, core beliefs, and values. These are not easy questions, yet I firmly believe facing them brings something important to living that we would otherwise miss if we chose simply not to ask such questions. There are in fact those who claim to believe that life is meaningless and absurd, as Albert Camus has stated in his writings. Yet Camus’ rebellion, even if he believed that it added up to no more than his concrete life, is a telling tale. [In one of James Sire’s works, he speaks of Camus, before his untimely death, as entertaining some serious questions about the existence of God.] People may believe, or want to believe, in the absurdity of existence; however, they appear to find it difficult to live consistently that abstraction with their day-to-day existence, whether it be toward their work, art, or loved ones. The fact that they place value into something or someone speaks to people’s need for meaning.

John V. Jones, Jr., PH.D., LPC-S/April 14, 2016

GENERAL ESSAY

Introduction

Even in this skeptical age, I think it would be a safe bet to claim that many people still value a search for the truth. Obviously throughout the centuries debates have raged over the question: What is truth? How do we know when we have found the truth of something? How can be sure that we, in fact, possess the truth? People like to play the self-stultifying word game, everything is relative, yet they despise lies, betrayal, and deceit. As well, we most likely have all struggled with the question surrounding truth and its possession. Well, believe it or not, I’m NOT going to continue with the philosophical exploration of the question, what is truth?. I’m not going to try to resolve the dialectic of absolutism versus relativity. As someone who believes in the notion of truth, I do, however, want to explore what some call the quest for certainty. And particularly how such a quest relates to the notion of change is something that has always interested me. Change is something that is scary for many people. The quest for certainty most definitely has an upside, yet when it seeks to look in the face of existence that is constant change so as to negate it, that is when it carries a dangerous downside.

The Desire to Know

The upside in the quest for certainty is most readily witnessed when it translates into the desire for knowledge, understanding, and wisdom. The desire to know, to be sure about certain things has spawned creativity in human activity and interaction across various fields of endeavor, including philosophy, the sciences, and the arts. Whether it’s the practicality in solving certain problems or simply the deep satisfaction of exploring the unknown, these various fields of endeavor are peoples’ stance on how they have come to understand the human condition, as well as the universe in which human beings find themselves. I believe one should hope that whatever conditions exist, such quests never cease to exist. Such desire for knowledge, understanding, and wisdom is the basis for how civilizations come about. Hopefully, there will always be those who possess that sense of awe and wonder regarding ourselves and the universe in which we exist that lead them to never rest, to never cease, in the pursuit of knowledge. Is this a Faustian heart? Then so be it. We can have it without making a deal with Mephistopheles.

Life as Change

If there’s one thing that seems to be certain about us, it’s that we change across time. Change is an experience that can be painful and scary. Think of the phrase, growing pangs. We grow. We develop physically, mentally, and spiritually. Although genetics has much to say about some of our development, we also make choices as to how we grow in all these areas. Certainty and change can appear at first glance to be diametrically opposed. Can we find certainty in the face of change? I guess one way to think about this paradox is to reflect on the fact that I am the same person who was born in 1947, yet I have changed over the many years that have followed that birth. In one sense, I’m that person, yet I’m not the same person at all. I am reminded of Thomas Wolfe’s You Can’t Go Home Again.

While the upside of the quest for certainty is its translation into the desire to know and to understand, the downside of the quest is when it is used in the hope for a false sense of security, particularly securing one against the fear of change. There are simply a lot of things about living where we have to admit that we lack certainty. I watched my dad go through much uncertainty when the plant that manufactured oil well equipment for which he worked shut down in the 1970’s. He was out of work for about a year. Those supposedly secure jobs don’t last forever like we hope. Marriages don’t last for a lifetime like we hope. We watch loved ones grow old and eventually attend their funerals. We are reminded that we too grow old and the cemetery is our destination as well. When the quest for certainty is a quest for some foundation that wards off the unknowns in living, then we are asking too much for our finite knowledge. People refuse to take risks because they want guarantees. Change is the great unknown. Sometimes an entire country of people wake up one morning, and their currency is worthless; their economy and means for carving out a living for themselves are gone. Change is an unknown frontier, and it is ominous and frightening at times. A quest for certainty in our day-to-day living that alters that reality is not a quest we will complete. It is a quest fraught with depression and anxiety, fear of the unknown, the hope for absolute guarantees.

Yet we can embrace change as an exciting possibility. We can engage that continuum we are on between who we are now and the potential of who we can become. Think about it this way. Life is change. If you stop changing, you’re not alive. Change does not have to mean that we can’t discover truths. It for sure doesn’t mean that we cannot gain in knowledge, understanding, and wisdom. Indeed, I would venture, expanding on the notion of the one thing that is certain is change, that, in our finite existence, what we don’t know in infinitely greater than what we do know. But we can continue to seek knowledge. But in seeking knowledge, understanding, and wisdom, perhaps what we should not seek is a guarantee that we can be certain of all that life will throw at us, that we can stay the uncertainties of living.

Conclusion

What am I not saying? For sure, I’m not saying that we cannot discover truths, and ways of living that can enhance or existence. In response to the above examples I gave, we can garner wisdom in how to plan for possibly unplanned unemployment. For sure, we can pursue economic knowledge that protects our way of living. We can embrace what it means to mature, grow older, and what that means for our later years of existence. But if one’s quest for certainty is to totally conquer the unknown and the anxiety it engenders, then all I can say is good luck. A life of knowledge, understanding, and wisdom can indeed help us embrace and live with the reality of what we do know, as well as what we don’t know.

John V. Jones, Jr., PhD, LPC-S/January 14, 2016

GENERAL ESSAY

Introduction

As 2015 comes to a close, I’m going Lite for the final Blog this year. I simply want to address this time of year, a way I’ve found to avoid the hype of the “holidays”, and to encourage those who feel the need to slow down, be still, and who desire to truly enjoy the Spirit of Christmas. I love the Christmas Season, yet I detest the hype and excessive materialism that come with it. There’s a feel good in the air that comes with Christmas as well, but I think at times you have to cut through a lot of nonsense to get to and embrace it. I believe that’s getting more and more difficult to accomplish these days. Having been blessed with loving and wonderful parents, I’m old school because during the Christmas Season, we put on the hot chocolate, decorated the tree, and listened to Bing Crosby records. We put the gifts under the tree, dreading the day we would have to dismantle it and say good-bye to the Christmas Season for another year. While I enjoyed shopping with mom, I never felt like we got caught up in the hustle-and-bustle that can wipe out what the time of year is truly about. There are a multitude of good ways to avoid the crass materialism that can quite frankly make this time of year ugly – think of financial anxieties, keeping on top of every new gadget that comes available, not to mention the exponential increase in highway traffic. It may seem impossible, but there are a multitude of good ways to circumvent all the nonsense thrown at us during this time of year. Good budgeting, taking more time with family, avoid the rush hours of shopping madness, and finding ways to slow down, embrace simplicity, enjoy solitude and quietness are a few remedies that come to mind for me. It’s really not all that difficult to remain far from the madding crowd. Yet we simply tend not to search for ways to separate from the craziness. For this article, I want to focus on solitude and quiet.

Solitude & Quiet in a Fast-Paced Culture

Solitude and quiet have taken a hit to the chin these days in a politicized culture that has come to view relationship as the core of everything, has propagandized group think to the extent that it has become a new religion, and has diagnosed or caricatured those who are not so comfortable with sacrosanct group think as social phobics, bathed in snobbery, or just downright selfishness. If you like your alone time, then something is wrong with you. The task at hand, it seems, is to address what solitude is, as well as what it is not. I love my alone time. I value and guard it with extreme prejudice. To some degree, much more than other people I know, I consider myself a loner, thereby creating more solitude for myself than others might desire. Each person has to figure how much solitude he or she needs. Solitude does not mean, however, disliking other people or devaluing relationships. It simple means that one values what can be garnered during quiet and reflective times. Such contemplative times allow one to slow down, gear the pace of life down to a reasonable speed, and reflect on what is truly valuable. I’m not sure our culture places a value on solitude, yet I believe it’s an important remedy to counter the hectic way of living that can come with our fast-paced society in an age that must find ways to deal with rapid advances of technology, global connections, and exponential increases in new knowledge. All these advances can be something valuable to us all, yet they can also create a maddening pace of existence. Solitude and quiet come as part of a contemplative way of living. I believe time for contemplation in life is important, and it does not discount or negate the importance of being active toward life. Indeed, contemplation sets the foundation for me to engage living and all it involves, including work, colleagues, friendships, and loved ones. Rather than discounting relationships, our solitude and alone time can help us more fully engage them. Solitude and quiet does not mean that one turns into a monk, anchorite, or troglodyte. I’m not saying that the remedy of solitude and quiet entails isolation and becoming ensconced in the life of a hermit. Simply find some time that is right for you, that allows you to slow down the pace, reflect on what is important, get things aligned so that you can engage what life throws at you and all of us. Although some people love their solitude and alone time, others fear it for various reasons. Think of what it must be like to fear being alone with oneself.

When I get alone, sometimes I spend my time with a book. Other times, I might listen to some jazz, my John Coltrane station on Pandora, for instance. And then still other times, I want complete quiet. Early in the morning or late at night are good times for me. The traffic in Austin, Texas is already a nightmare, but at this time of year it is exponentially terrible. Sometimes I can see the hectic, crazed, and distorted looks on people’s faces as they drive and go about their business in places like grocery stores, restaurants or gift shops. My own take is that we turn this time of season into the madness it is, rather than the thankful time is should be, because of conformity and group think, rather than being centered in who we are and knowing what we truly value. My take on solitude and quiet is a thought. Solitude and quiet are part of what historically have been called the spiritual disciplines. These are disciplines that can help us more readily engage a time of year that celebrates spirituality. Hopefully it can be of encouragement to those of you who want to see this time disconnect from the insanity we create keeping in pace with the madding crowd.

Conclusion

That madding crowd is all around us. We can easily become part of it. Yet it’s not that difficult to disconnect from it if we put a little effort toward that goal. Some simple time alone can take the sting out of what the culture throws at us. Turn of the TV, block out the noise, and shut down the computer – after you have read this blog :). Get alone with yourself, reflect on what is truly important and valuable to you, and find more ways to build whatever that is into your day-to-day living.

I hope the year closes down in a good way for you. To those of you who have crossed the path of this blog, Merry Christmas to you all.

John V. Jones, Jr., PhD, LPC-S/December 14, 2015

GENERAL ESSAY

Introduction

One day last week, unfortunately, an individual lost his life in a fatal car crash on the street where I live. The wreck involved the taking down of a power pole, and most people on my street, including the entire complex in which my condominium is located, were without power. The power outage was short-lived, lasting nearly 90 minutes. In an all-electric home the loss of power meant I had no lights, no fridge, no AC, no TV, and, of course, no Internet. Several of us actually walked outside to check if other people had power. An interesting phenomena occurred. I began talking to people whom I hadn’t even met in the number of years I’ve lived in the complex. Of course, none of us knew what had happened, so we were not aware that someone had lost his life. We just knew we were without power. On reflection, I wonder if we learned anything once we knew the entire story. Reflection is an interesting word, and an experience that involves more than our simply moving through life everyday without knowing what life entails.

Last month’s blog article, The Call of the Spiritual Disciplines, addressed the overwhelming amount of information that stands at our disposal via the technology age in which we exist. People tend to voice two common responses to this reality that comes at us from what is now referred to as the WEB. Some view it as a drain on our mind, time, and relationships, and tend to designate the information age as downright evil. One is reminded of the reactions of the Luddites to the industrial age. Others view it as a scientific marvel (which it is) that will bring peace and prosperity to all and save us from ourselves (which it will not). Those in the former camp want to step into a time machine and go back to the good ol’ days, whatever that mean; while those in the latter camp view science as mankind’s savior. Personally, I do not want to sound the war drum of either camp. As I stated in last month’s article, I’m thankful for my computer, the Internet, and would not want to face life  without modern technology for the most part.

Anxiety, as a part of human living, has most likely increased, however, due to the Information Age. Daily we are faced with the onslaught of more information than we can handle. We are given the task to process and transform that information into practical knowledge, that in turn, can be transformed into personal wisdom, if we wish to accomplish such a task. Yet how we accomplish such a task depends on how we take our stance towards the age in which we stand. As in any human endeavor, we are faced with our finitude and limitations when we realize that massive amounts of information do not help us know it all. We hit the wall of our limitation by the sheer amount of information that it lies at our fingertips. Not only can we not know it all, but also, we can’t even encounter it all. Constantly we hear people voice opinions on what they read on the WEB. Is the information reliable? Did they check their facts via several sources? Did they cherry pick the information they want to back up something they already believe? On and on these questions can haunt us – not only about other people’s use of the WEB, but also our own.

Personally, I believe taking on the Information Age, rather than calling for an end to information and technology and our retreating back in time, instead calls on us more than ever to seek wisdom in how we go about living. Mountains of information do not put an end to the need of our living wisely; it calls on us to be that much wiser in terms of how we even confront the information available to us. One of the spiritual disciplines I touched upon in last month’s blog involves the discipline of study. It is not the only discipline that can help us become wise, but it’s an important one. What does the discipline of study entail?

A Contemplative Approach to Life

Slow down you movin’ too fast/you gotta make the morning last .  .  . begins Paul Simon’s 59th Street Bridge Song, most likely known by most as, Feelin’ Groovy. One of the most onerous mistakes about the contemplative life is the notion that such a life entails simply sitting around contemplating, but never acting. Nothing could be further from the truth. An individual who takes a contemplative approach to life, reflects in order to act, but to act wisely as possible. I, for one, am thankful for the Information Age and all it provides us for which to make decisions. Yet there comes a point where we have to know the limit on all the information we can garner, process, and use for fruitful living. More than ever, the Information Age calls on us to embrace a more contemplative approach to life. The stream of information available to us is increasing everyday with no indication that its flood is slowing down; but human beings can move and process only so fast. As useful and beneficial as it is in doing things for us, the one thing that technology can do to us is separate us from our heart and soul of what it is to be human so we can say to ourselves enough is enough. There comes a time to slow down, stop, reflect, and then decide what course of action to take. There is never enough information; we can always believe and feel we need more. But for certain, there can be too much information that keeps us in a quicksand of data out of which we can’t wade to get onto the solid ground of living.

Richard Foster, in his book, Celebration of Discipline, discusses what through the centuries contemplatives called the spiritual disciplines. One such discipline he discusses is the discipline of study. Obviously, when we think of studying, we think of books and written information. And this form of information is one the main objects of study. According to Foster, however, there are several objects of study. We can also study nature via simple observation. Paul Simon’s simple little tune speaks of watching the flowers grow. We can find that time in our daily lives – or carve it out if need be – to slow down and simply encounter what is. We can study ourselves, becoming aware of what our feelings and mood swings mean. What controls us and our moods? What do our actions tend to claim we value? Are we aware of our values? We can study institutions and cultures, ponder the current happenings of our day, compare our personal values to what appear to be cultural values that perhaps we have inculcated. We can study human relationships, become attentive to various kinds of relationships that make up our lives, and reflect on what we value about relationships. There are a myriad of things, in addition to books, that provide information for us to contemplate and with which to come to terms.

No doubt, in the Information Age, our primary focus becomes information from books, or these days, the WEB. And we definitely need a disciplined approach to such vast amounts of information calling for our attention. Foster delineates four steps in the discipline of study: repetition, concentration, comprehension, and reflection. These four steps make up the how of the discipline of study. Even more, I appreciate Foster’s explanation of the what of study when he describes the discipline as careful attention to reality. And the why of study falls in line with the overall purpose of the spiritual disciplines, which Foster claims is the total transformation of the person. In this day of information overload, we need to take a stand that we, in being human, must maintain who we are and define how technology fits into who we are, rather than letting technology define who and what we are.

Repetition

Repetition, as one part of the discipline of study, is about ingraining habits. Personally, I know that because I love to read, I can fall into the bad habit of reading for merely amassing information, believing that the mere reading of anything is the my ultimate goal, rather than reflecting on what I have read. Likewise, reading something repetitively slows one down so that the information begins to sink in, and the habit of reading in a disciplined manner begins to take shape. The act of repetition focuses the mind on what is being read again and again. In terms of a spiritual discipline, such an act is seen throughout the centuries in monasteries, temples, and other venues of retreat where individuals tend to take time to study and reflect on anything. Monks and others who sought a contemplative life utilized repetitive reading through what they called Lectio Divina, or divine reading. Christian writer, James Sire, has written a work that addresses this form of reading, entitled How to Read Slowly. The spiritual exercise of Lectio Divina involves reading a passage of a sacred text over and over until one’s mind formed around it in a way that the reading became part of one’s soul. Hence, the information being read was viewed as something that had to become part of one’s soul, spirit, – life. It also involved slow reading. I realize such an activity is not one we can choose to do in all occasions and circumstances because of the demands of work, different goals, and other deadlines in this modern age. I do believe, however, it is an activity that needs to be worked back into our daily routines to help us slow down, contemplate, and reflect before making major decisions and taking action.

Concentration

Building on repetition, concentration as a step in the discipline of study, centers the mind, focusing one’s attention on what one is studying. Science has shown us what people within spiritual enclaves have experientially known for centuries: the mind possesses an incredible power to concentrate. Yet we have to train our minds to develop such an ability. Concentration offers one what Foster calls singleness of purpose, a centering of the mind, or what we tend to call focus. As I stated above, many times I find myself reading to be reading, to get done with the task of reading, but without focusing on what I’m reading. Repetition and concentration can help us accomplish a fuller use of our reading ability, enriching what we read and study. I agree with Foster that we live in our culture that does not value concentration. That fact combined with the waves of information that we face everyday turns our personal worlds into a mental chaos. I love to read, but sometimes I find myself lost, staring at my bookcase, wondering what I should read, lacking any sense of order as to what I’m trying to accomplish in my own living. True concentration may have become a lost art in our culture. The very contexts in which we live wages a war with our need to live contemplatively.

Comprehension

Comprehension is simply understanding what we are studying. We arrive at comprehension through focusing our mind repeatedly, centering our mind and attention on our study, and eventually, in coming to understand what we are studying, we arrive at a new level of comprehension. How many times might we have read something, even studied it to some extent, but feel we have not reached a new level of understanding? With repetition and concentration, we can read something over and over, and then experience that quantum leap of suddenly getting at what something means. Some people call such an aha experience an epiphany that places one on a new level of personal growth and freedom. Such a level of understanding is what we tend to call insight or discernment that provides us with a truer perception of reality.

Reflection

One might think that comprehension is the final step in the discipline of study. As Foster states, however, one further step is necessary in rounding out this discipline: reflection. This step allows us to see the significance of what we are studying. Reflection allows us to ruminate on what we have read and studied. It rounds out our understanding, not only of what we’ve studied, but ourselves as well. Anything worth our study says something about us – why it is useful to us – why it is important to us – why it is meaningful to us. This final step gets at the impact of what the spiritual discipline of study does for us. As Foster states, the purpose of the spiritual disciplines is personal transformation. The discipline of study leads to our becoming wiser about the world, others, and ourselves. The accumulation of massive amounts of information does not equate with knowledge; nor does the spouting of what one knows regarding information equate to wisdom. The philosopher of science, Karl Popper, believed that we need to become more enamored with what we don’t know that with what we think we know. He basically embraced the notion that our ignorance is infinitely greater than our knowledge of things. Foster, likewise, states that the discipline of study requires humility. We come before something to study it, not because we are knowledgeable or wise, but because we seek knowledge and wisdom. If we are to take the time to carry on an in-depth study of anything, should we forsake this final step in the discipline of study to ascertain the significance of what it is we study?

Conclusion

What I have explored on this monthly blog relates to counseling in many ways. I will let readers search that out for themselves. Importantly, I think what I’ve discussed here relates to much of living, and how we go about living. I want to add one caveat, however. If we’re going to reflect on the need to slow down, I do believe there are times to simply read for the purpose of enjoyment, enrichment, and the experience of another person’s talent in writing. I think of reading poetry, a short story, or a novel. In this information age there’s a time to kick back. Everything we read is simply not about study. But I also believe that the habits we form can help us even make those times a more enriched experience.

In closing, I return to the experience that opened this blog article. The experience took me back to simpler times, growing up at a time when my family possessed no TV or AC, and of course it was before the time of personal computers. I remember going outside to sit under a shade tree to get cool in the summers when I was out of school, and it actually worked. I also remember reading books under those shade trees, books with stories I remember to this day. As I’ve stated several times, I’m not a Luddite. I don’t own nor want to own a time machine. I value all that technology has brought our way. And technology is but one of the myriad of ways we can become lost to our being human and recognizing what is important in this life. Sometimes we just need to slow down, take a step back, focus, center, concentrate, and reflect – on all that is significant in our lives.

[Last month and this month’s blog article drew from the Christian author, Richard J. Foster. (Source: Foster, R. J. (1978). Celebration of Discipline: The Path to Spiritual Growth. HarpCollins Publishers, San Francisco.)]

John V. Jones, Jr., Ph.D., LPC-S/September 14, 2015

GENERAL ESSAY