Thursday, May 24, 2012


Selfhood. Philosophers from the Buddha (Thus, monks, any body whatsoever... Any feeling whatsoever... Any perception whatsoever... Any fabrications whatsoever... Any consciousness whatsoever that is past, future, or present; internal or external; blatant or subtle; common or sublime; far or near... is to be seen as it actually is with right discernment as: ‘This is not mine. This is not my self. This is not what I am'.) to David Hume (For my part, when I enter most intimately into what I call myself, I always stumble on some particular perception or other, of heat or cold, light or shade, love or hatred, pain or pleasure. I never can catch myself at any time without a perception, and never can observe anything but the perception.) to Elton John (Although I search myself, it's always someone else I see) have debated its amorphous nature.

Now Bruce Hood says the self is an illusion. Will Wilkinson says it isn't. Is so! Is not! Rabbit season! Duck season! Personally, I think Spinoza had it right; we're all modes of the one substance, temporary wrinkles in the universal fabric. Also, I would add that calling something an illusion is not the same thing as calling it an error.