The reason why I love philosophy can be found in this passage from Whitehead's difficult but emotionally intense book Process and Reality:
Life is a bid for freedom: an enduring entity binds any one of its occasions to the line of its ancestry. The doctrine of the enduring soul with its permanent characteristics is exactly the irrelevant answer to the problem which life presents. That problem is, How can there be originality? And the answer explains how the soul need be no more original than a stone.
Deleuze famously compared the experience of reading Spinoza to being on a witch's broom and feeling "a gust of air from behind." Reading Whitehead this morning (I began around 4:51 am), and seeing the sky slowly brighten (the world in slow motion), I felt as if I were in an ancient spaceship that moved just as easily through infinitely small spaces as through infinitely large spaces. Very few feelings can match the one you get from the ideas in a great book. It is a feeling of tremendous transformation. You can feel the words on the page changing the ground of your being.
It is believed that photons take a 150,000 years to get from the dense and disturbing core of the sun to the surface of our world. The light that arrived this morning was generated long before humans had anything like a city to live in or even a written language to communicate complex ideas with. It was an ancient light that fell on the pages of this marvelous book.
What is life? The best answer ever: "[A] bid for freedom..."
The house of being a stone.
Image from jsome1.
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