Reflections — a "poor philosopher"

As I creep closer to one hundred, I find myself wondering if I could hit such a lofty goal healthier than ever, but mostly I find myself freeing up white space to think and reflect on things.

At my core, I’ve determined that I’m equal parts, “a poor scientist” and “a poor artist” — a curious combination, although if I look at this as a Venn Diagram, the section that overlaps has offered a wonderful commercial career in the biotechnology and healthcare field. To this day, I meet smart and interesting people, who have challenged me in wonderful ways, I’ve laughed often, cried occasionally, and done some things that still endure today.

I’ve recently determined a third part, a third circle in my Venn Diagram that has started to find its way onto the page — I am affectionately calling this “a poor philosopher”.

Where did this come from? I believe it started when I read Meditations by Marcus Aurelius and began a journey to understand the ego, explore the ideas of other philosophers such as Alfred Adler, and ask, “What if everything I know and how I think is wrong?” I’ve always been a proponent of different perspectives and voices to find a better solution but now want to challenge the way I look at things and my critical thinking in different ways. There is a realization that my poor philosopher is crucial to protect my agency in the age of AI and to combat the doublethink and multitude of influencers that have found their way into every social feed.

My first-year philosophy course suggested I am on the right path when I say, “I’m a poor philosopher” — this is fine because I am looking at the intersection in a three-circle Venn Diagram. It is here that the sum will be greater than its parts.

What will this look like? It’s part of the journey and still coming into focus, but I do know it will be one part science, one part art, and one part philosophy.

iamgpe

The Age of Insecurity — a perspective

As a matter of course, I always have a number of books on the go. As a generalization they fall into two categories: mind candy in the form of science and fantasy fiction and more serious works such as autobiographies, philosophies and current topics of importance — basically, fun or serious. My latest “serious book” is entitled The Age of Insecurity by Astra Taylor (part of the CBC Massey Lectures).

As I started into the first chapter entitled Cura’s gift, who as an aside is the Roman goddess that embodies care, concern, anxiety and worry, there was just something that wasn’t sitting right with me — and it had nothing to do with a questionable divinity. As I put the book down, all I could wonder is if there’s an Age of Insecurity as the title suggests, that would mean there has been an Age of Security. Also, the word insecurity just seems to be one of those modern words favoured in rhetoric that has no interest in the depth and nuance of things.

What I find challenging is I don’t believe there has ever been an Age of Security and being secure is simply not part of the evolutionary model on this beautiful blue planet. To suggest that insecurity is something that is a negative and not the very thing that has brought us to the height of our civilization is misguided at best.

Insecurity or as I prefer to say, “discomfort”, is the motivator that drives change, adaptation, new ways of doing things, and is the very security we are looking for. If you are a fan of Charles Darwin, you can simply defer to survival of the fittest or at the individual level — if the current situation is uncomfortable, it is the driver to change the situation. Mother Earth has never offered security, and that simple fact has us all working to find a way to strive for enough security to leave our mark. To leave the impression that security is a right of life simply creates a complacency and denies the development of the very tools needed to be successful.

Don’t misunderstand me, I am not suggesting it is fair, but rather saying to suggest that it is any different is problematic for developing the very tools to make your way and be successful. Arguably, more than any time over the past 150,000 years, it is easier for us to find security when it comes to our basic needs and the ability to thrive. In fact, I would also suggest if you are feeling secure, you should search out discomfort and keep your skills sharp because things change — you lose your job, a flood destroys your house, civil unrest happens, you are replaced by AI, et cetera.

I believe in a culture with a helping hand, I just don’t want it to come with a message that is contrary to the Human Condition and suggesting otherwise guarantees problems. It is quite possible I have totally misunderstood the message of The Age of Insecurity and will follow-up to let you know.

As I have said before, “Get Comfortable with being Uncomfortable” — it will serve you well.

iamgpe

The mysticism of success (an exercise in artistic license)

mys·ti·cal/ˈmistək(ə)l/ adjective — inspiring a sense of spiritual mystery, awe, and fascination. (edited)

Artistic licence is the primary driver and the result of a morning hike where the mind is allowed to wander — let’s see where this narrative lands.

I started hiking at Happy Valley at the beginning of the pandemic and found myself walking the 9 kms of trails through an old growth forest regularly; this particular morning was a beautiful fall day and it made the walk truly mystical with the active change of the seasons. My hiking agenda included working in my new barefoot hiking boots and understanding how I would handle using a weighted backpack — you see, Happy Valley (called Pinch Gulch back in the day by the men who logged the valley) is one of the places I test my fitness. I have improved dramatically since the first time I walked these trails — each year, progress has been made and my process is producing success.

At one point during the hike as I came to the top of a hill and stopped. This moment seemed so mystical, and as one does, I took a picture. As I continued my hike, I let my mind wander to the previous day.

I had found myself at UB Social Cafe & General Store (another mystical place in my mind) where the coffee is made with love, the food is fantastic and the atmosphere invites rich conversation — Anthony and Mary, the owners have created something wonderful. They survived Covid, have very loyal customers and continue to evolve their business to stay ahead of the changing times. As we tend to do, Anthony and I struck up a conversation that meandered. At one point, Anthony mentioned that once in a while people ask him what Mary does and he tells he doesn’t really know — he then has to explain he doesn’t really have to know the details; he simply knows that she is doing the right thing. To this I interjected, and said that he“trusts her” — our conversation continued as others joined it.

Eventually I said my goodbyes, with tomato sauce in hand, I made my way. I could not help think that UB Social is a magical place built on a shared goal and trust.

I finished my hike and was pleased with my progress and my new hiking boots and recognized the weekend was akin to mystical (and definitely inspirational). And as I do, I asked myself why?

Initially in my mind, this narrative was lining up into a neat set of guidelines all under an umbrella I was calling mystical — goals, trust, process and progress, and all important aspects in a nice formula for success. As I reflected though, the more realized I was just correlating some buzz-words and ideas I experienced and was now trying to force them in a nice package for digestion. I was missing something when it came to what I experienced on the weekend.

It was only as I started writing this that it became apparent there were two aspects of the weekend made it mystical and had become lost on me as rushed to create a nice piece of social media content.

The first aspect was I spent time in nature — a place that reminded me that I’m part of something that is much bigger than myself and although comfortable, well beyond my understanding. The second aspect came at UB Social, where through connection, I could share, as others shared with me — a place where I can find connection. Ultimately, it seems my ego didn’t get in the way on the weekend, and I welcomed the reminder that I’m part of something much bigger and grander than myself and I took the time to connect and listen to what others had to say, enjoyed their company, and took time to consider my place in this beautiful world.

Humility and connection are definitely part of the formula.

iamgpe