Let's Discuss Philosophy

It's been quite some time over five years, actually since I started exploring philosophy. That's a long stretch, especially since I didn't pursue it out of simple curiosity. It all began because I faced an existential crisis. You know the feeling everything around you appears the same, but internally, something feels off.

Philosophy wasn't something I searched for; it's as though it discovered me. I desperately needed something to explain why I felt the way I did. Initially, philosophy seemed to offer answers or at least better questions. But now, I'm less sure.

Philosophy found me in my search for explanations. At first, it seemed to have all the answers, or at least provided better questions. But now, I'm uncertain about a lot.

To be honest, I'm not sure where this journey is headed. Sometimes, I wonder if it was better not to start this path. Philosophy can be beautiful, yet it can also leave you feeling isolated. The more you delve into it, the more you realize how much remains unknown. And that feeling stays with you.

How It All Began

My curiosity, which was perhaps too strong for my age, was the starting point. I was just 11 or 12 years old, seemingly too young for existential worries, right? Yet, I found myself lying awake, staring at the ceiling, pondering existence.

Who even faces such concerns at that age? Apparently, I did.

I was searching, needing something stable, trying to find the meaning of life what's it all about? Why do we exist? Why am I here?

In my quest, I delved into a lot of religious literature. Coming from a religious family, my readings and questions could have caused quite a stir if discovered.

But I was driven by a need to understand, not by rebellion, just a desire to make sense of things.

Then, unexpectedly, I stumbled upon philosophy.

At first, it felt liberating. I discovered others who also lacked all the answers, people asking the same questions as me. It wasn't just about finding answers; it was about the courage to ask questions.

Entering the Depths

Reflecting on it, the experience has been humbling, perhaps too humbling. Philosophy doesn't just introduce new ideas; it reveals the vast depth of inquiry. Sometimes, it seems like there's no end to it.

Once you engage with philosophy, you can't simply ignore it.

You begin with a few questions, and soon you're deeply involved. One idea connects to another, and suddenly your entire worldview is being deconstructed and rebuilt. Repeatedly.

Over the past five years, I've explored and moved on from multiple philosophies. I've lived through concepts like nihilism, absurdism, existentialism, and stoicism, among others. I tried adopting different ideas and values, hoping one would finally make everything click.

Where I Am Now

You might be wondering where I am today.

Well, I'm almost 18, and I've been on a deep thinking journey that many don't start until later in life. Right now, my understanding is this (though it might change soon):

Life doesn't come with a set purpose. You have to make your own.

This is where I stand now. It's not something I picked up from a book or podcast. After trying different ways to live and feeling lost, I've found peace in creating my own meaning, even when things aren't clear.

The Overthinker's Journey

I've always been someone who thinks a lot.

Even as a kid, my mind would wander in ways I couldn't understand. Back then, I just wanted it to stop. I wanted to be like everyone else and not lose sleep over questions. I tried hard to ignore my thoughts and distract myself.

But when I discovered philosophy, everything shifted.

Philosophy doesn't stop you from overthinking; it encourages it. It doesn’t answer your questions; it gives you more to consider. Once you dive in, each thought leads to another, and soon you can't remember where it all began.

The Arc of Understanding

A friend of mine said something once that has stayed with me:

"When you first read philosophy, you think others are wrong. Then, as you read more, you think they’re missing out. But after reading a lot, you realize maybe you were wrong for getting so deep into it."

I understand this now.

At first, philosophy feels like discovering a hidden truth. You see things others don’t and feel like you’re on a different level, thinking you’ve figured it all out.

But as you learn more, you see how much you don't know. You realize everyone has their struggles, and most people manage fine without needing philosophers to guide them.

In the end, it humbles you. You look back and laugh at how confident you were at the start. After all those books and thoughts, you might think, "Maybe I was just searching for answers where there were none."

Would I change my journey? Not at all. Even if philosophy made things tough sometimes, it also helped me see, feel, and question more deeply. And I find that pretty special.

Thought Experiments

I've delved into countless books over the years, exploring philosophy, identity, and the workings of the human mind. These books present ideas that challenge not only how the world functions but also how I function as an individual.

Thought experiments are intriguing mental exercises. They aren't just fascinating puzzles; they have the potential to transform you. This transformation has been true for me.

Some experiments appear straightforward initially, serving as scenarios to ponder. But as you contemplate them more deeply, they begin to alter your perspective. You start to view yourself and others differently.

I'm unsure how others react to these concepts. Maybe for some, they're just engaging subjects for casual conversation. But for me, they delve deeply into my consciousness, lingering and provoking thought.

These experiments have prompted me to question who I am, my identity, what is real, and what truly holds significance.

The Ship of Theseus

Consider this question. It's simple but can be thought-provoking if you dwell on it.

If every single plank of a ship is replaced one by one until nothing original remains, is it still the same ship?

This seems like a clever puzzle. But what if you think of yourself as that ship? Picture your younger self the original ship. Imagine each experience, thought, and challenge as one of those planks being exchanged.

Over time, year by year, thought by thought, your entire being undergoes a transformation.

So here lies the question: Are you still the same person you once were, or have you become something entirely different?

Pondering this struck me profoundly. It's not solely about identity in some abstract sense it touches on my very essence. It concerns the version of myself who first grappled with these questions at age 11 and the version now expressing these thoughts.

To be honest, it's somewhat unsettling. If I'm not the same person, then who am I at this moment? And who will I become in the future?

The Trolley Problem

You might have heard about the Trolley Problem.

Picture this: a trolley is racing down the tracks. Ahead, five people are tied to the path of the trolley. There is a lever you can pull, which will change the trolley's path to another track where only one person is tied. Will you pull the lever?

Now, let's complicate the scenario. What if that one person on the other track is someone you love? And the five people on the first track are strangers to you? Maybe they even have bad pasts.

What choice would you make then?

This is when philosophy becomes personal. It reveals something about who you really are not just the person who talks about ideas, but the one who truly feels emotions.

You begin to ask yourself:

• "Is my love for one person more important than the lives of five others?"
• "Does someone become more important to me simply because I know them?"
• "Am I a bad person if I choose not to pull the lever?"
• "Or would I be seen as heartless if I do pull it?"

This simple problem challenges your fundamental beliefs about what is right and wrong.

The Never-Ending Questions

Philosophy doesn't offer simple answers. It leaves you with questions that linger.

No matter how much you read or ponder, the questions persist. They evolve, demand different perspectives, and challenge you in unexpected ways.

Perhaps that is where the beauty lies. The search for meaning doesn’t have to conclude with answers. It can thrive in the questions the ones that never really leave you alone.

I have written extensively about philosophy, but this is my first time sharing it. I have countless pages filled with thoughts and ideas, stored in notebooks and in my mind. Maybe this is just the beginning. What comes next is uncertain. But with philosophy, there is never really an end. The journey continues.

So, for now, I encourage you: keep asking questions, keep exploring. You may find your own answers, or you may stumble upon even better questions. Either way, it is a journey worth experiencing.## The Mind-Body Problem

Here’s something that often keeps me awake at night: What's the connection between our brain and our consciousness? Am I just my brain, or is there more to it?

I know it sounds complicated, but when you're lying in bed at 3 AM, watching your thoughts come and go, it's strange to think about.

I remember learning about Descartes' idea, "I think, therefore I am," and it blew my mind. We can't doubt we're thinking, right? But then, who is the "I" doing the thinking?

Some scientists say consciousness is how it feels when our brain processes things. Others believe there's more, something science hasn't fully explained.

I don't have the answer, and honestly, I doubt anyone does. But thinking about it changes how I see myself. When I feel happy or sad, or when I watch a sunset and feel something in my chest, I wonder how strange it is to be conscious.

Philosophy and Everyday Life

Many think philosophy is just abstract stuff, but for me, it's the opposite.

Seeing life through philosophy affects everything. It changes how I talk to people, what I eat, and the choices I make when I'm alone.

Take ethics, for example. In the grocery store, I consider not just what I want, but also the environmental impact, how workers were treated, and if it causes harm to animals.

In relationships, philosophy makes me think about how I treat others. Do I see them as individuals with their own needs, or do I use them for my own purposes? Am I being real, or just acting a part?

Even waiting in line raises questions. Why do we accept this order? What makes it fair or unfair? Why do I get annoyed if someone cuts in line, and what does that say about what I value?

Philosophy mixes into all parts of life. Once you notice the philosophical side of everyday experiences, you can't ignore it. It's both a blessing and a curse.

The Illusion of Self

When I first explored Buddhist philosophy and the concept of "no-self" (anatta), I was doubtful. I always felt I had a stable sense of self because I experienced being "me" every single day.

However, as I dove deeper into the idea, I started to see it differently. The "self" that seemed solid and unchanging is actually more of a process, constantly evolving and being reconstructed moment by moment.

Think about it: if you try to find this "self," where exactly would it be? In your thoughts? But thoughts are like clouds, drifting in and out. In your body? But your body’s cells are continuously dying and regenerating. In your memories? Yet memories change, fade, and can even be fabricated.

Buddhist philosophy includes a thought experiment where you're asked to locate your "self." If you point to your body, they ask whether you'd still be you if you lost a limb. If you identify your mind, they question if you'd still be you if your preferences or memories changed.

This isn't just about playing with words. When I sit with the idea that the self is a process rather than a fixed entity, it alters how I perceive my thoughts and emotions. They aren't "mine" as I once believed. They resemble weather patterns, arising and dissipating.

Interestingly, realizing the self isn’t a fixed thing can bring freedom. If “I” am not set in stone, then I’m not locked into a rigid identity. I have the potential to change, grow, and become something new. It's a fascinating thought, don't you think?

Plato's Cave and Reality

Have you heard of Plato's Cave? It's a story about people who are chained in a cave and can only see shadows on the wall, believing these shadows to be reality. When one of them escapes and sees the real world, he returns to tell the others, but they think he’s gone mad.

I first read about this when I was 15. It left me wondering: what if I’m still in the cave? What if my perception of reality is just an illusion, like shadows?

This isn’t merely an ancient story. It's about questioning what is genuinely real. How much of what we perceive is real, and how much is influenced by our own biases, our limited senses, or our upbringing?

In today's world, this story is even more relevant. Social media algorithms create individual realities tailored to us. News outlets give different versions of the same events. We're all essentially seeing different shadows on different walls.

I often wonder if any of us can truly leave the cave. Perhaps the best we can do is acknowledge that we’re in one. Our view of reality is shaped by things we might not even realize.

But even this awareness changes something. It encourages us to question more and assume less. It helps us listen more closely to those who see the world differently, as they might have glimpsed something outside our personal cave that we have yet to see.

Free Will vs. Determinism

I've been thinking a lot about whether we actually decide what we do, or if everything is controlled by things outside our control.

At first, this idea seems confusing, but when you dig deeper, it can feel a bit disturbing.

If determinism is true meaning everything we do and think is the result of past causes what does that mean for everything? What about responsibility? What about finding meaning in life? What does it say about who we are?

I often change my mind about this. Sometimes, I feel sure that I can make my own choices. Other times, when I think about how my brain works how the neurons react to things and how thoughts just suddenly appear I wonder if free will is just something my brain makes me believe.

The more I learn about the brain, and how our decisions can show up in brain activity before we even know we're deciding, the stranger everything seems.

But I still feel like I am making choices! Right now, as I write this, I feel like I am choosing what to say and how to say it. Is that feeling just another trick my brain plays on me?

This question has real-life effects. How much do we blame people for bad actions or praise them for good actions? If our choices come from our genes, upbringing, or brain chemistry things we didn’t choose how responsible are we really?

I don’t know the answer. Maybe there isn't a clear answer. Or maybe the truth is somewhere in the middle, where determinism and some meaningful choice can exist together.

Thinking about this makes me kinder to myself and others. If our actions are partly decided by stuff we can't control, perhaps we should be more understanding and less judgmental.

Books and Ideas That Made Me Think

People often ask me what to read if they want to learn about philosophy. It's a tough question because everyone has their own journey. But I can share what has been important to me.

For me, it started with Albert Camus and "The Myth of Sisyphus." I was in a bad place, questioning everything about life. His ideas about finding meaning in a world that feels random hit me hard. The story of Sisyphus, pushing a giant rock up a hill only for it to roll back down yet finding purpose in that endless task gave me something to hold onto when life made no sense.

After that, I got into thinkers like Sartre and de Beauvoir. They believed we aren't born with a set nature; we create ourselves by the choices we make. This was both scary and incredibly freeing.

Eastern philosophy has also had a big impact on me. Listening to Alan Watts talk about Zen Buddhism and Taoism introduced me to new ways of thinking. The "Tao Te Ching," with its complex ideas, taught me that sometimes you find answers by letting go of what you think you know, rather than learning more facts.

But you don't find philosophy only in philosophy books. Novels like "The Brothers Karamazov" by Dostoyevsky and "Siddhartha" by Hesse have deeply affected me. Poetry too Mary Oliver’s question, "Tell me, what is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life?" hits just as hard as any philosopher's ideas.

Then there are the long conversations late at night, with friends, with strangers online, or even with myself while walking. Philosophy comes alive in these talks and questions.

If you're just starting, don’t stress about reading the "right stuff" or understanding everything. Follow what interests you. Start with what touches you, even if it’s not what teachers call "serious philosophy." The questions that keep YOU awake at night are your true guide.

The Strange Thing About Philosophy

As I think about it more, I've realized something strange: The more I dive into philosophy, the more I see how little I truly know. And yet, knowing this somehow feels wise.

Philosophy humbles you. The more you learn, the more you realize how vast the world of ideas is, how many different perspectives exist, and how limited any single viewpoint your own included might be.

But there's freedom in this humility! When you stop believing you have all the answers, you open yourself to new learning, to change, and to seeing the world in new ways.

And maybe that’s the greatest gift philosophy has given me: not certainty, but the opposite a comfort with not knowing, being okay with living in the questions rather than clinging to answers.

In a world that often pushes for clear black-and-white answers, philosophy has taught me to appreciate the gray areas, to find beauty in not knowing, and to be okay with saying, "I don’t know, but I’m trying to figure it out."

So as I continue on this journey, this endless conversation with past and present thinkers, with myself, and the world, I carry this truth with me: The more I learn, the less I truly know. And somehow, that feels like growth.

And I'm grateful for every question that has changed my life.