The logical ballerinas: “Yin-Yang”




We all contemplate, astonished, bewildered, also fascinated, the incessant turns of our inner and outer realities. We all have suffered the shocking mutations of our own soul and of the souls of others: the good-natured turns out to be a devil, and the devil, suddenly, looks at us with infinite tenderness. Nature, at times, loves us and raises us with its beauty, and, at other times, it crushes and denigrates us without mercy. The slopes of the mountains of the soul are lit and also darkened under a sky that can not be quiet. The stupid suddenly becomes a mighty sage, and the wise, or the saint, suddenly behave in the lowest, ugliest limits of the human condition.

“Yin-Yang”. Change, contradiction, interpenetration, complementarity of opposites. I believe that we are dealing with a single but also bicephalous word that, according to Chinese tradition, symbolizes the internal machinery that moves the world. But within that single word are actually dancing (always embraced, embraced even to guts of the other one, and to the guts of the other one’s guts) two beautiful dancers who were born in China, in ancient China.

And that intimate dance reflects a terrible but also fertile tension. We are not facing two opposing forces, but complementary ones. Neither of them can live without the other. They never grow or decrease together: when one of them expands it is because the other one is reduced. But these expansion and reduction immediately triggers a change to its opposite: what goes up starts to fall if it reaches its maximum, and what goes down, when it gets enough denigration, begins to ascend. Light becomes darkness and darkness becomes light. Hell becomes heaven. And hell heaven. Everything is permanently turning, changing. But, if we asume the ideas of this philosophy, we are obliged to say that it has a huge contradiction: the very reality of change and its internal logic doesn’t seem to be thought of as changeable… I will deal with this contradiction on the last part of this text.

So, installing in its consciousness, through the word, always through the word, the metaphysical reality of this eternal dance, Chinese wisdom may be able to combine hope (any hell will transmute into paradise) with prudence (beware, you should consider that everything will change; take precautions, do not relax too much in boom times). Balance. Prudence. Temperance. Middle point. Avoid extremes, excesses. Be wise…

Before presenting my ideas about the logical ballerina “Yin-Yang”, I think it might be useful to take a look a the following themes:

1.- China… Schopenhauer included an interesting chapter in his work On the Will in Nature under the title “Sinology”. In the beginning of that chapter the great philosopher deems China as a top civilized country, and does so primarily on the grounds of its high -and permanently increasing- population: 396 millions in 1857. Today that population has reached 1.400 millions of people: millions of minds and heaths and working hands which are interwoven shaping a mighty civilizational and even racial meta-human being. I am anyway quite fascinated by the fact that China’s basic civilizational program remains almost intact, and that it was coded and activated, it seems, by a family -the Shang- which gave their name to that area of ​​the planet and which governed it between the 17th and 11th centuries BC. From that ‘family’ comes Chinese writing, which is still alive: logical dancers who emerged out of the Yellow River millennia ago and who, unlike those that appear in this philosophical dictionary, are drawn full body, not in pieces. I also find remarkable the relative self-sufficiency of China. I also see this ‘country’ as a kind of very old animal -a kind of a god- where the human individual, as such, would not have reached a determining ontological location beyond its performative function inside such animal-god. Perhaps China was always, in general, communist and bureaucratist. Except for the irruption of Buddhism (that Indian program), I do not see that this fabulous living system segregated by the Yellow River has opened its consciousness to concepts such as freedom or creativity. Taoism, while propitiating individual anarchy in the human-social realm, would set the human individual into a natural, yes, but also  radically legalized flow: an unstoppable metaphysical force with which human beings should harmonize in order to be really happy. Buddhism, on the other hand, as a worldview imported from India, would offer to the Chinese mind -and heart- the concept of absolute freedom (Moksa): the possibility of leaving the wheels of Karma, the possibility of liberating from the very Tao even (if we understand the Tao as a universal law), the possibility of liberating from the very concept of “liberation”…

2.- Meanings for “Yin-Yang”. It seems extremely complicated to set a unique meaning for this/these symbols. Some scholars speak of weak (Yin) and strong (Yang), of feminine (Yin) and masculine (Yang), of dark (Yin) and luminous (Yang), of Earth (Yin) and sky (Yang). In the amazing I Ching (or Yijing according to the pinyin phonetic transcription) we find a very efficient use of two types of strokes: a) The broken stroke (or two consecutive strokes) that would correspond to the Yin concept (perhaps due to its similarity with the vagina); and b)The continuous stroke, which would correspond to Yang (perhaps because of its similarity with the penis).

3.- Yin-Yang in Chinese philosophy. This concept reached a decisive place in the thought of Zou Yan (305-240 BC). But its philosophical development was driven mainly by Dong Zhongshu (179-104 BC), a Han-era thinker who wrote a work whose title -of astonishing beauty- was something like Luxuriant Dew of the Spring and Autumn Annals  (Chunqiu fanlu). In this work a model of totality is shown in which the Earth, the sky and the human being are intimately connected.

4.- Yin-Yang in the I Ching (or Yijing). The fundamental idea of ​​this mighty book is that of change. Everything changes. And that change would be produced by the interaction of the Yin-Yang opposites. The I Ching is a strange, beautiful and abyssal being that has been part of my life for many years. I use the translation of Richard Wilhelm, with the brilliant introduction of Karl Jung. With this book, within this book, I have lived and leaded decisive moments of my life. The introduction made by Jung is part of the masterpieces of the philosophical art. I think that, for the subject that concerns us now, there are two fundamental symbols: Qian and Kun. The first is pure Yang, is active and refers to the sky. The second is pure Yin, which is passive and refers to the Earth. We can think of the duality between the Mediterranean goddesses of the Earth and the gods of heaven. We can also think of the purusa-prakriti duality of the Indian Samkya. But from the Chinese worldview (at least that which is implicit in the Yin-Yang doctrine), it is not possible to speak of dualisms: within the goddesses of the Earth there would be gods of heaven. And vice versa. All together, interwoven, inter-fertilized.

5.- The diagrams. The best known is the Taijitu (literally “symbol of the highest, most extraordinary”). It is a symbol that shows polarity and movement; and that also appears, with few morphological differences, in the Celtic, Etruscan and Roman cultures. As far as China is concerned, I believe that a great philosophical expressiveness has been achieved by including within each color a circle of the opposite color, which, according to the Chinese sages, could always be subdivided into another diagram of two interlaced colours. And so on to infinity. To infinity. This must not be forgotten. But it would be better, in my opinion, to try a diagram in which within the Taijitu would appear a symbol that represents its absolute other… ‘that’ that is completely outside of that human and cosmic wheel and, therefore, of all its laws. I think that this would be the true symbol of “the highest”, and it should encompass what is presented to consciousness, and also consciousness itself (that infinite void).

6.- Some sources on Chinese philosophy. I suggest these two internet sites: (created by John Bruno Hare). This last site is edited by Victor H. Mair (Department of Asian Languages ​​and Civilizations, University of Pennsylvania) and offers a large number of essays on Chinese culture in general.

I also recommend these works on Chinese philosophy:

– Feng Youlan: A History of Chinese Philosophy, Princeton University Press, 1952 (translation of Derk Bodde).

– Marcel Granet: La pensée chinoise, Paris 1934.

– Needham, Joseph: Science and Civilization  in China, Cambridge University Press, 1954-2016 (7 volumes in 25 books).

– Bauer Wolfgang: Geschichte der chinesischen Philosophie. Konfuzianismus, Daodismus, Buddhismus, München 2001.

– Encyclopedia of Chinese Philosophy (ed. Antonio S. Cua, Routledge, 2002).

Now I will try to organize my ideas, my intuitions, about the “Yin-Yang” logical ballerina:

1.- Yin-Yang. Permanent (and also metaphysically regulated) change. But, if we do really philosophize (if we do really think) we discover that change is impossible, illogical. As it is impossible -illogical- the movement (let’s remember, let’s not stop doing so, Zeno of Elea). In fact, everything that happens seems to be impossible (maybe because everything that happens is purely magical, the masterpiece, the outcome of the unlimited power and creativity of a prodigious magician). In any case, in order to just testify about changes, an observer should remain immutable (precisely the one who affirmed that something has changed… the one who is supposed to have noticed that the reality surrounding him has changed). But that observer, according to the Chinese tradition, at least as far as I get, and, even according to the current world view of Physics, is also constantly shaken by the great dance that moves everything. Therefore, there would be no place to locate (even to think) a fixed point from which to affirm that, a few minutes ago, there was not a hawk in the sky and now there is.

2.- Changes occurs only in Maya (in the magical spectacles of our conscience, or “mind”, or “brain” if you like). Change is fantasy (chemical-biological fantasy, for those who do not want to abandon the neurophysiological worldview). And there, only there – in that fantasy- it is possible to visualize the tension of complementary opposites. However, this tension seems to me finally linguistic (like everything that can appear in sentences): the Yin-Yang presupposes a certain structure of words. It is said that Yang would be the luminous slope of a mountain, and Yin the shadowy one. But “mountain” or “hillside” are the result of a certain mental form: they are the product of one of the infinite ways of cutting out what is presented as real. The opposite of something requires assuming the ontological reality of that something. Think of the possible tension between God and the Devil (which requires a theism), or of the tension between matter and antimatter (a tension only possible if the models offered by current Physics are assumed to represent reality).

3.- Changes and their internal logic only happen in the theatres of consciousness. They are artistic needs. They are necessary for it to happen -for us to feel- a world in our consciousness. In meditation state [See], and, certainly, not only in that state, it may happen that we realize that we are always still, ‘there’, immutable, in a meta-spatial and meta-temporal workshop, utterly capable of any Creation (Creation with capital letter). In meditation state we are aware of our infinite quietness and unchangeability. We become aware that we are that immobile Being which Parmenides considered the true, only reality.

4.- The model of totality implicit in the doctrine of Yin-Yang presupposes a legaliform metaphysics. I have the feeling that most of the Chinese philosophical approaches (except those derived from Buddhism, which is an ‘imported’ wisdom) offer ideas in order to optimize the position of human beings within an already regulated cosmos. I do not see in Chinese philosophy-sotoriology a quest for transcendence. The Chinese sage wants to optimize his stay in immanence. The Chinese seek accommodation in a changing cosmos that changes according to an order that the wise must detect, but not modify, erase or re-create. In general, system-escapes are not sought, but optimization in the system. Confucians seem to be willing to incorporate human society and even its bureaucracy into a cosmic and sacred whole. Taoists, in general, seem to reject that radical pure-human-socialism, but they also seem to aspire to a fusion with a kind of cosmic-natural-metaphysical bureaucracy. In both cases, individual freedom seems to be meaningless. We are facing legaliform metaphysics. Buddhism -that Indian sotoriology- would perhaps be the only form of freedom (of freedom in the absolute sense) that the Chinese spirit would have known. It could be said that Chinese wisdom is an imposing Apara-Vidya [See]. And, as far as I get, that “inferior wisdom” of China is based on the search for balance -harmony- inside a universe of changing but also metaphysically ‘coded’ forces; and also on the search for techniques that allow channeling, for the benefit of human beings, those same forces.

5.- From the worldview of modern neurophysiology we should consider the hypothesis that Yin-Yang schematizes, in a rudimentary way, the functioning of the two parts of the human brain and their physiological, vital needs (energetic needs if you want), to stay balanced [See “Brain”].

6.- I return to the possibility that I pointed out before: to draw a Taijitu (the classic Yin-Yang diagram) in which its own opposite is shown. I mean the opposite of the whole model of totality that that symbol wants to subject.

The Yin-Yang system allows human being to survive inside a cosmos, inside a cosmos of words, but it does not allow to see beyond. In order to see beyond the theatres of our consciousness we have got to be silent. To be the silence.

In any case, I hope to have time enough so as to contemplate with calm the majestic flutter of Chinese civilization: that huge, astonishing butterfly.

David López




Las bailarinas lógicas: “Cerebro”

“Cerebro”. Se supone que es el órgano crucial pero también imaginario de esta escultura de Rodin. Como realidad física y tangible, el cerebro es el objeto más sofisticado y deslumbrante del universo conocido. Yo tengo uno de esos objetos dentro de mí. Y tú, por el hecho mismo de que estás leyendo estas palabras, tienes otro. Otro de esos increíbles diamantes vivos. ¿Somos dueños de semejante joya o, por el contrario, somos propiedad de ella? 

“Cerebro”. El propósito de este diccionario filosófico no es dar significados a las palabras, no es limitar su semántica, sino calibrar su habilidad para generar hechizos: su fuerza para configurar los contenidos de la conciencia. Lo mundos.

Entremos ahora en un fabuloso laberinto de espejos. Primer paso: ¿Quién -o qué- quiere estudiar, ver, considerar, medir, modelar, etc., el llamado “cerebro humano”? ¿Quién -o qué- quiere crear en su propio cerebro una imagen, una idea, un atlas, de su propio cerebro? ¿Puede el cerebro ser objeto y sujeto de conocimiento al mismo tiempo? 

Fue leyendo a Schopenhauer cuando me sorprendió por primera vez la “paradoja del cerebro”. Se puede enunciar así: el cerebro, como una cosa entre las cosas, es parte del mundo (como los árboles o los caracoles o los coches o los anillos de Saturno o las estrellas). Visto de esa manera, como un corte concreto en la totalidad del impacto visual del mundo, aparece como algo tridimensional, diminuto, vulnerable; y también como algo creado (e implacablemente sometido por las leyes de la Naturaleza). Pero, por otro lado, según Schopenhauer (que era un amante de la filosofía de Kant), es precisamente dentro del cerebro, y solo allí, donde ocurre eso que llamamos “mundo” y por lo tanto también eso que llamamos “cerebro”. 

Si no filosofamos (si no somos conscientes de nuestro pensamiento), no nos daremos cuenta de que estamos identificando lo que las conexiones neuronales de nuestro cerebro pueden construir y también denominar “cerebro”, con ‘eso’ que se supone que rodea al cerebro mismo: el ‘mundo exterior’, incluyendo, por supuesto, la materia misma del propio cerebro. Las teorías de un neurofisiólogo actual (si aceptamos y seguimos esas mismas teorías) son fenómenos dentro del cosmos interno, eléctrico y viscoso, de sus propias galaxias de neuronas. Se podría decir, a partir del materialismo científico actual, que el cerebro es una de las cosas que se pueden contemplar dentro del cerebro si el cerebro funciona correctamente (dentro de esa caja mágica también puede suceder una brisa de otoño capaz de erizar la piel de la memoria). 

A partir de ese materialismo también se puede decir que seremos más conocedores del cerebro a medida que nos acerquemos a un cierto camino de conexiones neuronales, a una cierta forma, o baile si se quiere, de la materia que constituye nuestro cerebro: aquella que propicie una representación adecuada de lo que es el cerebro en sí mismo, si es que tal cosa existe. ¿Cómo sería tal “cosa”?

Vamos a intentar vislumbrar qué podría haber detrás de la palabra “cerebro”. Hagámoslo con los ojos infinitos de la diosa Filosofía, la cual, según la neurociencia actual, sería solo una actividad cerebral (la actividad cerebral que se modela, que se mira a sí misma… ¿Desde dónde?). 

La palabra “cerebro” (esa poderosa bailarina lógica) nos dará una maravillosa oportunidad para filosofar seriamente: sin pereza, con un coraje extremo, listos para nadar en el océano del infinito, de lo insoportable incluso (pero insoportable, a veces, por su extrema belleza). Comienza el gran éxtasis intelectual de la Filosofía. Realmente creo que nuestro filosofar puede recibir una lluvia extremadamente fértil si observamos lo que se dice sobre el cerebro a partir de los modelos actuales de neurofisiología (a partir de estas configuraciones determinadas de la química de nuestro cerebro, si aceptamos esos mismos modelos). 

Pero, ¿qué dicen esos modelos al día de la fecha? 

Hasta donde yo voy sabiendo, se dice que el cerebro (el cerebro humano en concreto) es una parte del cuerpo humano, un órgano que se considera el centro del sistema nervioso. Contiene miles de millones de células de un tipo especial: las llamadas “neuronas”, que, sorprendentemente, se conectan entre sí -o no- creando -o no- asociaciones (digamos sociedades… ¿Civilizaciones?). He leído que las neuronas pueden cooperar en sociedades de millones de miembros y que aún está por ser desvelado el misterio de cómo funciona realmente esa cooperación. También se dice que el tejido cerebral produce energía, electricidad de hecho (como una pequeña central nuclear orgánica), electricidad que, si muchas neuronas trabajan juntas, puede ser lo suficientemente potente como para salir del cráneo (la caja del cerebro) y ser detectable en el exterior. Ese órgano, esa ‘máquina’ crucial [Véase “Máquina”], se puede comparar con una computadora. En realidad, algunos modelos actuales de neurociencia usan esa comparación para mejorar la comprensión de su objeto de estudio. Y lo hacen sobre la base de que el cerebro es un centro de percepción y procesamiento de datos. El alcance de dicha percepción, según lo que parece comúnmente aceptado en la ciencia actual, es enorme: luz, sonido, composición química de la atmósfera, temperatura, orientación de la cabeza, posición de las extremidades, composición química del torrente sanguíneo… O eso es lo que luego se dice a sí mismo el cerebro que ha “percibido”.

Sigamos… El hipotálamo, que es una parte del cerebro, puede incluso controlar el nivel de sodio, el nivel de glucosa y el nivel de oxígeno en la sangre, y, según esos datos, enviar mensajes a la glándula pituitaria, la cual reacciona introduciendo hormonas en el torrente sanguíneo que son capaces de modificar la actividad celular. 

También se dice que el aprendizaje y la memoria son actividades centrales del cerebro. Santiago Ramón y Cajal podría haber explicado tales capacidades argumentando que se trataba de cambios en las conexiones sinápticas entre las neuronas. Dicha teoría podría haber comenzado a ser comúnmente aceptada por una serie de investigaciones iniciadas por un artículo de Tim Bliss y Terje Lømo publicado en 1966 en Journal of Physiology. El descubrimiento clave de ese artículo fue la llamada “Potenciación a largo plazo”: el fortalecimiento de la sinapsis entre las neuronas causada por la actividad reciente. También existe lo contrario: la “Depresión a largo plazo”. Ambos fenómenos podrían ser una prueba de lo que ahora se llama “plasticidad sináptica”, teoría que afirma que las conexiones entre las neuronas pueden fortalecerse o debilitarse según su actividad durante un período de tiempo. Miles de millones de neuronas capaces, dispuestas a conectarse entre sí… 

¿Qué puede ocurrir si se produce una conexión total? ¿El cerebro (ese enorme misterio) sería completamente consciente de sí mismo? La Filosofía, vista desde los modelos actuales de neurofisiología, podría describirse como una bellísima bomba de pensamientos conscientes, colocada dentro de esas galaxias de neuronas para desencadenar su conexión extática final: la plasticidad sináptica infinita. 

Los modelos científicos que acabo de esbozar son el marco teorético de algunos proyectos sorprendentes que me gustaría mencionar (y agradecer también): Aquí encontrarás la siguiente pregunta: “¿Te imaginas que un cerebro y su funcionamiento se replicaran en una computadora?” En la página web de este instituto (que fue fundado por Paul Allen, uno de los creadores de Microsoft junto con Bill Gates), se dice lo siguiente: “El cerebro humano es la pieza más compleja de materia organizada en el universo conocido. Utilizamos nuestro singular enfoque para descubrir sus misterios y compartir recursos valiosos con la comunidad global de neurocientíficos “. 

La vanguardia científica de nuestra civilización está ahora fascinada con los cerebros: con esas complejas piezas de materia organizada. Y es que dentro de esas joyas cósmicas podría estar la clave de todo. 

Neurociencia. Filosofía. Veamos lo que dicen los siguientes pensadores individuales (cerebros individuales) sobre el cerebro: 

1.- Schopenhauer. La paradoja del cerebro. Volvamos a eso: el cerebro, como cosa entre cosas del universo físico, está en el espacio, pero el espacio (el continente, la ‘caja’ del universo físico) está solo en el cerebro (Pararega y Paralipomena II, p. 48, de acuerdo con la edición clásica de Arthur Hübscher, revisada por su esposa Angelika y publicada en Mannheim en 1988). El sistema filosófico de Schopenhauer supera tal paradoja ubicando el cerebro físico como parte del mundo creado, como una especie de herramienta utilizada por nuestro yo más profundo para contemplar nuestra propia creación. 

2.- Humberto Maturana. Biología de la cognición (Informe de investigación del laboratorio de computación biológica BCL 9.0. Urbana IL: Universidad de Illinois, 1970). Maturana es uno de los tres creadores del concepto “autopoiesis”, el cual se refiere a la supuesta capacidad de autogeneración y autogestión de los llamados “sistemas vivientes” (se dice que los otros dos creadores de dicho concepto son Francisco Varela y Ricardo B. Uribe). El cerebro: Maturana dice que la rana no puede ver a todos los animales (no ve los que son especialmente grandes y lentos). La actividad del cerebro (lo que es ‘realidad’ dentro de él) sería el resultado de las demandas del sistema vivo que lo nutre. La realidad es fabricada por los “sistemas vivientes”. ¿Es también esa misma teoría generada en el cerebro de Maturana algo que sirve solo para nutrir el “sistema viviente” que lo posee? ¿Cómo puede ser cierta esa teoría si es generada por un cerebro biológicamente esclavizado? Merece ser leído el estudio esquemático sobre el pensamiento de Humberto Maturana ofrecido por John Lechte en este trabajo: Fifty Key Contemporary Thinkers: From Structuralism to Postmodernity (Routledge, London 1994). Hay una edición en español: 50 pensadores contemporáneos esenciales, traducción de Carmen García Trevijano, Cátedra, Madrid 2010.

3.- El funcionalismo computacional de Hilary Putnam [Véase aquí, todavía solo en español] como solución para el problema mente/cerebro: la mente es el software; el cerebro es el hardware. La crítica de John Searle: “la habitación china” (Minds, Brains and Science, Harmondsworth, Londres 1984) [Edición española: Mentes, cerebros y ciencia, Cátedra, Madrid 1994]. Searle afirma que una computadora puede comportarse como si entendiera chino, pero no sería nunca una mente porque no puede pensar, ser consciente, de su propio comportamiento. Este pensador centra sus críticas exclusivamente en las computadoras digitales. Pero, ¿qué tipo de máquinas están todavía por ser creadas? [Véase “Máquina”]. Schopenhauer ya consideraba el cerebro humano como nuestra creación artificial más sofisticada. Porque en realidad no seríamos “seres humanos”. Los seres humanos serían en realidad nuestra creación.

4.- Antonio Damasio [Véase aquí, todavía solo en español]. Merece ser leída su obra El error de Descartes. Ese error fue creer que las operaciones más refinadas de la mente están separadas de la estructura y el funcionamiento del organismo biológico. El cerebro y el resto del cuerpo constituyen un organismo inseparable compuesto por circuitos bioquímicos y neuronales que se relacionan con el medio ambiente en su conjunto, y de esa interacción surge la actividad mental. Entonces… ¿Nuestro cerebro tiene el tamaño de todo el universo físico? ¿Pensamos con todo eso? ¿Es nuestro pensamiento fruto de todo eso? ¿Lo es también nuestro ‘yo pensado’?

5.- Richard Dawkins: The God delusion [El espejismo  de Dios]. En este libro hay un epígrafe que lleva por título “La madre de todos los burkas”. Dawkins afirma que lo que vemos del mundo real no es el mundo real, sino un modelo del mundo real, regulado y ajustado por datos sensoriales (un modelo que está construido de tal manera que es útil para relacionarse con el mundo real). Dawkins también afirma que la naturaleza de ese modelo depende del tipo de animal que somos. De acuerdo con esa teoría, podríamos preguntarnos: ¿No es esa misma teoría (el modelo de realidad que Richard Dawkins expone) simplemente algo útil que su cerebro (su cuerpo) necesita para lidiar con ese monstruoso misterio que parece ser el mundo real, pero real de verdad? Entonces: ¿Los cerebros reflejan la realidad o la crean? ¿La supervivencia del sistema requiere una ‘realidad’ reflejada en el cerebro o simplemente una fantasía capaz de desencadenar la voluntad de vivir? [Véase aquí mi artículo completo sobre Richard Dawkings todavía solo en español]. 

Ahora intentaré transmitir lo que parecen ser mis propios pensamientos (las secreciones de mi propio cerebro, o del universo entero a través de él) sobre el misterio del cerebro: 

1.- “Cerebro” es, en primer lugar, una palabra, un símbolo. Nada más. Y nada menos… También se puede decir que es el resultado de aplicar un determinado sistema de cortes en la realidad visual del llamado “universo” [Véase “Universales”]. No puedo ver ningún cerebro más allá de cierto software mental (si usamos la metáfora de Hilary Putnam).

2.- El lenguaje siempre nos hechiza. Para ser consciente de ese hechizo hay que pensar que tanto “átomo” como “neurona” o “cerebro” o “ciencia” son palabras: frutos artificiales de modelos mentales: secreciones de algo inefable que ahora no tengo más remedio que llamar “cerebro”. De hecho, es posible que en un futuro muy cercano surja un nuevo modelo de cerebro. Por ejemplo, un modelo que afirme la identidad absoluta entre lo que ahora llamamos “cerebro” y lo que ahora llamamos “universo”.

3.- La bailarina lógica “Cerebro” generalmente baila junto con otra: “Mente”. Se dice que desde el último tercio del siglo XX la filosofía de la mente está adquiriendo un lugar privilegiado en lo que llamamos reflexión filosófica. Pero hoy en día, la ideología predominante es la que afirma la dimensión material del cerebro. El problema (la maravilla) es que que cada objeto físico (el cerebro incluido), según la Física actual (Teoría M), tiene once dimensiones, no tres. Por lo tanto, los modelos (los dibujos) actuales del cerebro están mutilados: el cerebro en sí, incluso considerado como un objeto físico puro, es imposible de dibujar. Imposible de ver. Impossible de imaginar siquiera.

4.- El cerebro… Realmente no sé qué es eso, pero si cierro mi ojos, puedo sentirlo, ‘ahí’, como una enorme ballena mágica, infinita. Dentro de mí. Y yo dentro de ella. Es imposible, pero es así… Y también puedo enviarle calma, y silencio, e incluso amor, a ese ser.  Es  algo que hago casi todos los días. Créeme: después de no más de un minuto, ese ser parece nacer de nuevo, listo para seguir amando la vida, listo para seguir produciendo mundos. La pregunta es: ¿Desde dónde siento mi propio cerebro? ¿Dónde estoy yo realmente? 

Es suficiente. Saquemos a la diosa Filosofía del salón donde la bailarina lógica “Cerebro” necesita bailar. Esa preciosa bailarina es parte de un gran sueño: el sueño del materialismo científico, que ofrece mundos fabulosos. Y expectativas fabulosas también. 

David López

The logical ballerinas: “Brain”

“Brain”. It is supposed to be the crucial but also imaginary organ of this sculpture of Rodin. As physical, tangible reality, the brain is the most sophisticated and dazzling object of the known universe. I have one of those inside me. And you, by the very fact that you are reading these words, have another one. Another one of such amazing living diamonds. Do we own such a jewel or are we owned by it? 

“Brain”. The purpose of this philosophical dictionary is not to give meanings to words, is not to confine their semantics, but to calibrate their spell ability: their strength to configure contents of consciousness. Worlds.

Let’s go now into a fabulous labyrinth of mirrors. One first step: Who or what wants to study, to see, to consider, to measure, to modelize, etc., the so called “human brain”? Who or what wants to create in its own brain an image, an idea, an atlas, of its own brain? Can the brain be object and subject of knowledge at the same time?

It was reading Schopenhauer when I was dazzled for the first time by what is called “brain paradox”. It can be stated as follows: the brain, as a thing between things, is part of the world (like trees or snails or cars or stars). Seen like this, as a concrete cut of the visual impact of the world, it appears as something three-dimensional, tiny, vulnerable, and apparently created, configured and also pitiless submitted by the laws of Nature.

But, on the other hand, according to Schopenhauer (who was a lover of Kant´s Philosophy), it is precisely inside the brain, and only there, where occurs that what we call “world”. 

If we do not philosophize  (if we are not conscious of our thinking) we will not notice that we are identifying that what the neural connections of our brain are able to build and call “Brain”, with ‘that’ that is supposed to be surrounding the brain itself: the ‘outer world’, including it it, of course, the very matter of the brain itself and of the whole body itself. The theories of a neurophysiologist (if we accept and follow those same theories) are phenomena within the electrical and viscous inner-cosmos of their own galaxies of neurones. That inner-cosmos would be the habitat of the models of brain of a neurophysiologist.

It could be said, from the current scientistic materialism, that the brain is one of the things that can be contemplated inside the brain if the brain works properly (inside that magic box can also happen an Autumn breeze that bristles the skin of memory). And from that materialism it can also be said that we will be more cognizant of the brain the closer we get to a certain neuronal conexions-path, to a certain form, or dance if you want, in the matter of our brain: the precise one that propitiates a suitable representation of what is the brain in itself.

Let’s look at what is behind the word “brain”. Let’s do it with the infinite eyes of the Goddess Philosophy, which, according to neuroscience, is just a cerebral activity (the cerebral activity modelling itself, looking at itself… From where?).  The word “brain” (that powerful logical ballerina) is going to give us a wonderful opportunity to philosophize seriously: without laziness, with extreme courage, ready to swim in the ocean of the infinite, of the unbearable even (but unbearable, sometimes, because of its extreme beauty).

The great intellectual ecstasy of Philosophy begins. I truly believe that our philosophizing can receive an extremely fertile rain if we look at what is said about the brain from the current models of neurophysiology  (from these determined configurations of the chemistry of our brain, if we accept those very models). 

But, what do those models say? 

I will focus on the human brain. As far as I know, it is said that the brain is a concrete part of the human body, an organ which is considered the centre of the nervous system. It contains billions of a special type of cells called “neurones”, which, amazingly, connect with each other, or not, creating, or not, clusters of connexions, or associations (let’s say societies). I have read that the neurones can cooperate in societies of millions of members and that it is still uncovered the mystery of the way that cooperation really works. It is also said that the brain tissue produces energy, electricity indeed (like a small, organic nuclear power station), which, if many neurones work together, can be powerful enough to get out of the skull (the box of the brain) and be measured outside. That organ, that crucial ‘machine’ [See “Machine”], is comprable with a computer. Actually, some current models of neuroscience use that comparison to improve their insight of the brain. And they do it on the grounds that the brain is a centre of perception and processing of data. The scope of such perception, as far as it is commonly accepted in today’s science, is quite amazing: light, sound, chemical composition of the atmosphere, temperature, head orientation, limb position, chemical composition of the bloodstream… The hypothalamus, which is one part of the brain, can even check the sodium level, the glucose level and the blood oxygen level, and send some of those outputs to the pituitary gland, which reacts introducing hormones into the bloodstream that are capable of changing cellular activity.

It is also said that learning and memory are core activities of the brain. Santiago Ramon y Cajal might have explain such capacities arguing that they were just changes in the synaptic connexions between neurones. Such theory could have started to be fully proved by a stream of investigations triggered by a paper of Tim Bliss and Terje Lømo published in 1966 in Journal of Physiology. The key discovery of that paper was the so-called “long-term potentiation”: the strengthening of the synapsis between neurones caused by recent activity. There is also the opposite: the “long-term depression”. Both phenomena might be showing what is now called “synaptic plasticity”, which implies that the connexions between neurones can strengthen or weaken depending on their activity during a period of time. Thousands of millions of neurones capable, willing to connect among each other… What might occur if that total connexion takes place? The brain (that huge mystery) being completely conscious of itself? Philosophy, viewed from the current models of neurophysiology, could be described as a bomb of conscious thoughts set inside those galaxies of neurones in order to trigger its final, ecstatic connexion: the infinite synaptic plasticity.

The scientific models of reality I have just shown are the framework of some amazing projects that I would like to mention (and to thank too): 

  • . On the webpage of this institute (which was founded by Paul Allen, one of the founders of Microsoft along with Bill Gates) we are said what follows: “The human brain is the most complex piece of organized matter in the known universe. We use our singular approach to uncover its mysteries and share valuable resources with the global community of neuroscientists”.

Our civilization is now fascinated with the human brains: with those complex pieces of organized matter. Inside those cosmic jewels might be the key of everything.

Neuroscience. Philosophy. Let’s see what the following individual thinkers (individual brains) say about the brain:

1.- Schopenhauer. The paradox of the brain. Let’s go back to it:  the brain, as thing of the physical universe, is in space, but space (the continent, the ‘box’ of the physical universe) is only in the brain (Pararega and Paralipomena II, p. 48, according to the classic edition of Arthur Hübscher, revised by his wife Angelika, and published in Mannheim in 1988). The philosophical system of Schopenhauer overcomes such paradox placing the physical brain as part of the created world, as a kind of tool used by our deepest I in order to contemplate our own creation.   

2.- Humberto Maturana. Biology of Cognition (Biological Computer Laboratory Research Report BCL 9.0. Urbana IL: University of Illinois, 1970). Maturana is one of the three creators of the concept “autopoiesis”, which refers to the alleged capacity of self-generating and self-maintaining of the so-called “living systems” (It is said that the other two creators of such concept are Francisco Varela and Ricardo B. Uribe). The brain: Maturana says the frog can not see all the animals (it does not see those that are especially large and slow). The activity of the brain is the result of the demands of the living system that nourishes it. Reality is made by living systems. Is it also the very theory that generates the brain of Maturana something (let’s say bio-artificial) that nurtures the living system that owes him? How can that theory be true if it is generated by a biologically enslaved brain whose sole purpose is to nourish something called “living system”? It deserves to be read the schematic study on the thought of Humberto Maturana offered by John Lechte in this work: Fifty Key Contemporary Thinkers: From Structuralism to Postmodernity (Routledge, London 1994).

3.- The computational functionalism of Hilary Putnam [See here, still in Spanish] as solution for the mind/brain problem: the mind is the software; the brain is the hardware. The criticism of John Searle in his paper “The Chinese room argument” (“Minds, Brains, and Programs”, Behavioral and Brain Sciences, 1980): a computer can behave as if it understood Chinese, but it would nevertheless not be a mind, because it can not think, be conscious, of its own behaviour. Searle does focus its criticism on digital computers. But, what kind of machines are still to be created? Schopenhauer already considered the brain as our most sophisticated artificial creation. Because, indeed, we would not be “human beings”…

4.- Antonio Damasio [See here, still in Spanish]: The error of Descartes. That error was to believe that the most refined operations of the mind are separated from the structure and functioning of the biological organism. The brain and the rest of the body constitute an inseparable organism composed of biochemical and neural regulatory circuits that relate to the environment as a whole, and mental activity arises from that interaction. So…  Does our brain have the size of the whole physical universe? Do we think with all that?

5.- Richard Dawkins: The God delusion, 2006. In this book there is an epigraph that takes by title “The mother of all the burkas”. From the groove of his own burqa, and always through the kaleidoscopic lens of scientist materialism, Dawkins states that what we see of the real world is not the real world, but a model of the real world, regulated and adjusted by sense data (a model that is constructed in such a way that it is useful to deal with the real world). Dawkins   also states that the nature of that model depends on the type of animal we are. According to that theory we could ask: Is not that very theory (the model of reality that Richard Dawkins exposes) just something useful that his brain (his body) needs in order to deal with the real world? So: Do brains reflect reality or create it? Does the survival of the system require ‘reality’ reflected cerebrally or just fantasy capable of triggering will to live? [See here my full article on Richard Dawkings still in Spanish].

Now I will try to convey what seem to be my own thoughts (the secretions of my own brain) about the mystery of the brain:

1.- “Brain” is, first of all, a word. Nothing else. Nothing less… It can also be said that it is the result of applying a certain system of cuts in the visual reality of the so-called ‘universe’. I see no brain beyond a certain mental software (if we use the metaphor of Hilary Putnam).

2.- We are always bewitched by language. To see the exit, if you want, you have to be able to feel that both “atom”, “neuron”, “brain” and “science” are words: artificial fruits of mental models: secretions of something ineffable that, given that I am now inside a phrase, I have no choice but to name it ‘brain’. In fact, it is posible that in a very close future a new model of “brain” might emerge. For example a model that affirms the identity between what we now name “brain” and what we now name “universe”.

3.- The logical ballerina “Brain” usually dances together with another: “Mind”. It is said that from the last third of the twentieth century the philosophy of the mind is acquiring a privileged place in what we call philosophical reflection. But the leading idelogy nowadays is the one which asserts the material dimension of the brain. [See “Matter”]. Okay. But every physical object, according to current Physics (M-Theory), is supposed to have eleven dimensions, not only three. Therefore,  the current models (the draws) of the brain are mutilated: the brain itself (even considered as a pure physical object) is impossible to draw. Impossible to see. Even impossible to imagine.

7.- The brain… I don’t really know what is that, but, if I close my eyes, I can feel it, ‘there’, like a huge magical, infinite whale. And I can also send it calm, silence, even love… That is something I do almost everyday. Believe me: After no more than one minute, that mysterious, unsayable ‘thing’ seems to be born again, ready to go on loving life, producing worlds if you want.  The question is: From where do I feel my own brain? Where really am I?

Enough. Let’s take Philosophy out of the dance room where the logical ballerina “Brain” needs to dance. That beautiful ballerina is part of a mighty dream: the dream of scientific materialism, which offers fabulous worlds, and fabulous expectations.

David López

Las bailarinas lógicas: “Sueño”



“Sueño”. Soñamos. Es prodigioso que eso ocurra. Filósofo es aquel que no se acostumbra a lo prodigioso: aquel que no se acostumbra a lo que hay. Porque finalmente es incapaz de abarcar lo que hay en palabra alguna, en sistema alguno. Lo que hay es demasiado grande y prodigioso para él.

En las notas que siguen expondré unas primeras reflexiones que, según creo ahora, se encaminan hacia una desactivación de los universales “Sueño” y “Vida” [Véase “Universales”], y, quizás, a su sustitución por un neologismo que sería algo así como “Omni-vida”, entendiendo que no existe diferencia ontológica entre los distintos ‘lugares’ o ‘mundos’ en los que entramos y salimos a lo largo del tiempo infinito -y dentro del espacio, infinito también- de nuestra mente.

La experiencia total. ¿Cuáles son los límites de la vida? ¿Cuánto se vive en una vida; si incluimos todo lo que se sueña en ella? ¿Cuántos cómputos de tiempo? ¿Cuántas tramas? ¿Cuántas personas se es en el gran teatro de nuestra mente (o de nuestro “cerebro”, si se quiere soñar en red con los neurofisiólogos)? [Véase “Cerebro”].

La vida es sueño. Sí. Pero, ¿qué es eso de “la vida”? ¿Cómo jerarquizar los distintos mundos en los que entramos y de los que salimos? ¿Dónde estoy exponiendo estas preguntas? ¿En un sueño? 

Creo que sería más apropiado decir que el sueño es vida. Y eliminar eso de “solo fue un sueño”. Creo que un sueño es algo grande.

¿Podemos -como aseguran los budistas- despertar alguna vez, pero del todo? ¿Morir es despertar a otro sueño más ‘real’, más ‘de verdad’, que éste en el que ahora escribo?

Los taoístas aseguran que somos -los seres humanos y sus mundos- el sueño de una mariposa: el sueño de algo que goza de una ligereza infinita. El sueño de una Nada… [Véase “Nada”].

En la palabra “Materia” [Véase] narro un sueño personal en el que, una vez alcanzada la conciencia de que estaba soñando, me deleité contemplando la materia onírica de unos árboles de mi infancia; e incluso sintiendo en mi piel una brisa ‘imaginaria’ que provocó en mí un estallido de belleza extrema. La noche 24 de mayo de 2011 tuve un sueño similar. También lúcido. Así lo recuerdo ahora:

Estoy en una casa que se supone que es la mía. Hay bastante gente dentro y también en el jardín. Entre esa gente están mis familiares más directos. De pronto me doy cuenta, algo asustado y aturdido, de que esa no es exactamente mi casa. Empiezo a sospechar que estoy soñando. Se lo digo a mi hermano. Él no me cree. Intento convencerle a él y a más gente que ahora no recuerdo. Dudo de si estoy o no soñando. Me decido a hacer la prueba que siempre me funciona: levanto los brazos y me dispongo a volar. Vuelo. Me consuela saber que he acertado y que estoy en un sueño, lo cual, inmediatamente, me hace tomar consciencia de que tengo un enorme poder de configuración de esa realidad: que puedo hacer con ella casi lo que quiera. Pero recuerdo también, mientras voy volando, que debo mantener la calma y la concentración para no perder el poder. Paso volando junto a las ramas de unos árboles gigantescos. Me detengo, casi en meditación, para contemplar en detalle el prodigio de esa materia onírico-vegetal. Ante ese espectáculo siento una emoción estético-metafísica realmente gloriosa: estoy contemplando la materia de los sueños.

Sigo mi vuelo y llego a una especie de chalet de montaña, aparentemente deshabitado, muy bello, iluminado con una luz entre verdosa y gris: la luz que nace y muere justo antes de los amaneceres. Veo un cartel con un teléfono. Me pregunto qué pasaría si yo marcara ese número. No lo hago. Me es igual. No me quiero distraer. Lo que me interesa es la contemplación pura de la materia que me envuelve. Sigo volando hacia no sé dónde.

Llego a una casa grande en cuyo tejado hay grandes cristaleras. Veo niños durmiendo. Ellos me descubren. No sé qué decir. Les digo finalmente que soy un ángel, que no se preocupen, que estoy para cuidarles, para que tengan una vida preciosa. Uno de ellos me dice que ya sabe quién soy porque me ha visto en una película. Al resto les doy igual. Entonces se me ocurre animarlos a jugar conmigo. Pierdo algo de concentración y de control porque empiezo a sentir apego por esos niños. Me doy cuenta de que tengo que salir de ahí, urgentemente, pero no volando, porque ya he perdido el poder de volar. Salgo corriendo por una escalera grande, como de edificio de lujo en Berlín. Siento angustia. Quiero despertar. Quiero despertar urgentemente.

Pero despierto en otro sueño y quiero tomar notas en él para aprovechar esas experiencias y poderlas traer a este diccionario filosófico. Hay muchos niños haciendo ruido y soy incapaz de concentrarme. Suena mi móvil. Es un mensaje de voz. Recuerdo de pronto haber soñado un tercer sueño en el que acababa de iniciar una apasionada relación sentimental con una mujer. Una mujer de ojos verdes, muy guapa y muy fea a la vez, que había conocido mientras dejaba una bolsa en el colegio de mi hijo. En el mensaje ella se lamenta de que yo no devolviera sus llamadas. Su voz es angustiosa. Yo sé -en el sueño- que esa mujer formaba parte de otro sueño distinto: un hechizo puntual destinado a diluirse en la nada como un arcoíris moribundo.

Desperté a este sueño desde el que ahora escribo.  Ya dentro de este mundo concreto sentí una mezcla de fascinación metafísica -y física- y también angustia ante la volatilidad de los mundos. Pero sobre todo sentí mucha tristeza por aquella mujer de nada que me amaba desde la nada ofreciéndomelo todo.

Los sueños. La vida. El amor…

Antes de exponer mis ideas, creo oportuno mencionar a los siguientes pensadores:

1.- Buda. El despierto. Pero… ¿Para qué despertar? ¿Para no sufrir? Sugiero seguir en la vida sabiendo que se trata de un sueño, de un sueño sagrado. Y ponerse a su servicio: aumentar sus hechizos (Nietzsche).

2.- Kant. Confesó que había despertado del “sueño dogmático” gracias a Hume. ¿Qué es un sueño dogmático? Las bailarinas lógicas (“Causalidad”, “Tiempo”, “Espacio”… y muchas más) hunden en ese sueño. Pero no se puede vivir sin ellas. Porque vivir es soñar. Porque vivir es estar hechizado.

3.- Schopenhauer. Leamos lo que escribió sobre el sueño este poderoso pensador en la primera parte de su obra Parerga y paralipomena (P I, 232-233, según la edición clásica de Arthur Hübscher, revisada por su mujer Angelika, y publicada en Mannheim en 1988):

“[…] en el simple sueño la relación es unilateral, y es que solo un yo verdaderamente quiere y siente, mientras que los demás no lo hacen, pues son fantasmas; por el contrario, en el gran sueño de la vida tiene lugar una relación multilateral, toda vez que no solo uno aparece en el sueño del otro, sino que éste también aparece en el de aquel, de forma que, por medio de una verdadera harmonia praestabilita, cada uno sueña solo aquello que para él es adecuado según su propia guía metafísica, y todos los sueños-vida están entretejidos con una perfección tal, que cada uno experimenta solo lo que le es beneficioso y hace lo que es necesario para los demás […].”

(La traducción es mía. Ofrezco a continuación el texto original en alemán para su cotejo):

” […] im bloßen Traume das Verhältniß einseitig ist, nämlich nur ein Ich wirklich will und empfindet, während die Uebrigen nichts, als Phantome sind; im großen Traume des Lebens hingegen ein wechselseitiges Verhältniß Statt findet, indem nicht nur der Eine im Traume des Andern, gerade so wie es daselbst nötig ist, figuriert, sondern auch dieser wieder in dem seinigen; so daß, vermöge einer wirklichen harmonia praestabilita, jeder doch nur Das träumt, was ihm, seiner eigenen metaphysischem Lenkung gemäß, angemessen ist, und alle Lebensträume so künstlich in einander geflochten sind, daß Jeder erfährt, was ihm gedeihlich ist und zugleich leistet, was Andern nöthig […]”.

4.- Freud. 1900. Die Traumdeutung. La interpretación de los sueños. El sueño es una necesidad psíquica, una especie de prótesis metafísica, y su interpretación permite sanar… digamos “el alma”. Freud, que es un pensador excepcional, está no obstante hechizado -dormido- por bailarinas como “Ciencia”. Es un ilustrado decimonónico: habla de los “antiguos”, que, en su supuesta ignorancia pre-científica, creyeron que los sueños podrían ser un lugar intervenido por divinidades exteriores, y que en los sueños había mensajes, y que anunciaban el porvenir… Freud escribió su libro sintiendo que no había habido avance desde Artemidoro de Daldis (s. II d. C.). Y considera que la materia de los sueños es la memoria, la cual almacenaría absolutamente todas las experiencias vividas por un ser humano desde su infancia (hasta las más nimias). Objetivo de la interpretación de los sueños: sanar. Utilizar el sueño (su recuerdo) para sacar a “la luz de la razón” (esa diosa exorcista) todo lo reprimido. Así se acabaría, según Freud, con el sufrimiento: volviendo consciente lo inconsciente. Su método consistía en sugerir que fuera el paciente-soñador quien interpretara su propio sueño, dejando que las imágenes salieran sin censura a la purificadora luz “de la razón”. Contra la ciencia de su época, Freud sí creyó que los sueños tenían sentido, pero rechazó el uso de claves interpretativas fijas porque las consideró simple superstición. Finalmente, Freud, en su obra La interpretación de los sueños, confirmó el sentido popular que, según él, siempre consideró los sueños como un espacio para la realización de deseos frustrados en la vida real. Y los “sueños de angustia” serían un fallo del sistema: lo deseado por el inconsciente sería insoportable: y se produciría, sin más, el despertar.


Y éstas son mis ideas sobre la palabra “Sueño”:

1.- El sueño/la vida son contenidos de conciencia -no tengo otras palabras más adecuadas para decirlo. Creo que esos contenidos forman una fabulosa obra de arte que está siendo contemplada por ‘nosotros’ desde un lugar innombrable desde aquí. Esa gran Creación, esa descomunal sinfonía de mundos interconectados, incluye todo lo ‘vivido’ y ‘soñado’ por nosotros.

2.- No morimos porque no vivimos. “Vivir” es una palabra demasiado simple. “Soñar” y “morir” también lo son. Como he adelantado al comienzo de este texto, creo que sería más apropiado decir que “omni-vivimos”: entramos y salimos en y de realidades que nosotros mismos fabricamos desde donde somos Nada (desde donde somos Dios, si se quiere utilizar esta palabra).

3.- Creo que en nuestros sueños -vida incluida- irrumpen mensajes y seres exteriores. O -mejor dicho quizás-  mensajes que nos mandamos a nosotros mismos desde otros lugares de nuestra conciencia infinita.

4.- Considero que no hay que descartar la posibilidad de que ‘alguien’ nos esté contemplando en este momento, con ternura, como cuando contemplamos a nuestros hijos dormidos. No es tampoco descartable que nos estén amando y cuidando desde donde quizás despertemos al morir.

5.- El sueño dogmático. Este diccionario filosófico muestra el poder narcotizante de las bailarinas lógicas (las palabras/los conceptos/ los universales/las ideas). Creo que todo kosmos noetos, en sentido platónico, es narcótico: todo cosmos es un sueño ordenado. Todo logos, si tiene la fuerza suficiente, sumerge en un profundo sueño dogmático. Kant, gracias a Hume, despertó de un sueño dogmático, pero entró en muchos otros, todos preparados para causar hechizos en sus fabulosas obras filosóficas.

6.- La interpretación de los sueños. ¿Qué es “interpretar”? ¿Para qué “interpretar”? Unos mundos nutriendo a otros. Pero, ¿desde qué lógica? ¿No es la lógica, también, una alucinación de la mente? Quizás sí. Pero hay que vivir este sueño, éste, y merece la pena buscar nutrientes, ideas, hitos, mensajes -lo que sea- en otros mundos. Creo, con Freud, que los sueños están al servicio de nuestra salud, entendiendo “salud” en un sentido ilimitado.

7.- Despertar. Dios se aprieta pero no se ahoga. Todos sabemos, en el fondo, que cuando un sueño -o un vivir en general- se pone demasiado duro podemos salir de él: podemos diluirlo en la nada del sueño olvidado y reducido a simple materia onírica, a pura irrealidad.

8.- El silencio en el sueño. Los sueños, en general, son ruidosos, desasosegados, como caricaturas de este sueño/vida desde el que ahora escribo. En los sueños, generalmente, se siente muy poco sosiego, y muy poca libertad… ¿Cabe meditar dentro de un sueño?  Yo lo hice, después de saberme soñando en una especie de asamblea de dignatarios religiosos que tenía lugar dentro de lo que parecía una catedral. Fue una experiencia incomunicable ahora. En otra ocasión soñé con un pueblo rodeado por la luz y el silencio.  Todo era demasiado calmado. Demasiado maravilloso. Sentí que no estaba en un sueño ordinario; y me asusté muchísimo porque supe que aquello era la muerte. O algo relacionado con la muerte. Y yo no quería morir. Tenía una preciosa hijita de cuatro años. Elegí entonces -por amor, por amor puro y duro- regresar a esta vida/sueño (a esta “Omni-vida”), renunciando a las delicias de aquel paraíso rural. Y letal.

9.- Creo que cabría diferenciar entre el sueño pasivo y el sueño activo. El Dios de los monoteísmos, el Dios Creador, antes de crear,  tuvo que soñar activamente (‘imaginar’) su Creación (o ‘ensoñar’ si se prefiere). No cabe pensar una Creación instantánea, no soñada activamente, esto es: no deseada una vez imaginada activamente. No se puede desear algo que no se ve previamente en la imaginación. El sueño pasivo, por su parte, sería una entrada en el fruto de la propia imaginación, con la conciencia autolimitada para percibir lo creado (la ‘realidad’) como algo ajeno objetivo, ‘ahí’. Ese podría ser el sentido mismo de la Creación. Y del mundo. De todos los mundos posibles. 

10.- El paraíso. No descarto su existencia; como sueño perfecto experimentable desde un nivel de conciencia todavía auto-hechizado. El paraíso como materialización de todo lo deseado ‘en vida’: como vivencia total de todo lo soñado (ensoñado) activamente: como último regalo del cerebro para sí mismo (si no se quiere salir del modelo fisicista-cerebralista).

11.- El sueño amado. Recuerdo haber sido arrastrado por cataratas de sueños sucesivos en los que una y otra vez creí que había despertado, por fin, a la verdadera realidad. Pero ninguno de ellos era el sueño amado. Y yo lo sabía. Hasta que regresé a éste.


Mi sueño amado es éste: éste desde el que escribo, porque en él están seres maravillosos por los que vale la pena asumir los dolores del ignorante (en sentido budista): de ese ‘estúpido’ que -por puro amor- no se desapega de su sueño amado.

Quisiera terminar este texto trayendo de nuevo las palabras de Schopenhauer sobre el sueño. Y es que tienen una fuerza y una belleza descomunales:

“[…] en el simple sueño la relación es unilateral, y es que solo un yo verdaderamente quiere y siente, mientras que los demás no lo hacen, pues son fantasmas; por el contrario, en el gran sueño de la vida tiene lugar una relación multilateral, toda vez que no solo uno aparece en el sueño del otro, sino que éste también aparece en el de aquel, de forma que, por medio de una verdadera harmonia praestabilita, cada uno sueña solo aquello que para él es adecuado según su propia guía metafísica, y todos los sueños-vida están entretejidos con una perfección tal, que cada uno experimenta solo lo que le es beneficioso y hace lo que es necesario para los demás […].”


David López



The logical ballerinas: “Dream”.

“Dream”. We dream. The very fact that this happens is simply prodigious. The philosopher never gets used to the prodigious: never gets used to what seems to be plain reality.

In the following notes I will convey some reflections that are dragging me towards a deactivation of the universals “Dream” and “Life”, and, perhaps, their replacement by a neologism (a new-born universal) that would be something like “omni-life” [See “Universals” still in Spanish]. We could say that we omni-live, given that there is no ontological difference between the different ‘realities’ or ‘worlds’ (or ‘dreams’) in which we enter, feel and leave throughout the infinite time and space of our mind.

Which are the limits, and the exact contents, of life? How much do we experience, do we live, within a life, if we include our dreams inside it? How many people and emotions and buildings and landscapes are born and die in the great theatre of our mind (or our “brain”, if you want to dream inside the current network of neurophysiology)? [See “Brain”].

“Life is dream”. Okay. Yes. But what exactly is that what se call “life”? How to rank the different worlds (dreams) in which we enter and leave within a lifetime? Where am I now exposing these questions? Inside a dream? Inside a life? Who writes now? Who reads? Where?

I think it would be philosophically more effective to say that dreams are life, pure life; and to eliminate expressions such as “It was just a dream”. I think a dream is something big. Just because it is life.

Can we -as Buddhists claim- awaken once, and completely? Will we wake up in another dream -more real, more true, than this one in which we are now- when we ‘die’?

Taoists claim that we  (human beings and their worlds) are the dream of a butterfly: the dream of something that enjoys an infinite lightness. The dream of a Nothing indeed… [See “Nothing” still in Spanish].

In the logical ballerina “Materia” [See] I narrate a dream in which, once I had reached the consciousness that I was dreaming, I could contemplate the dreamlike matter of some trees of my childhood; and even feel in my oneiric skin a breeze that triggered inside me a burst of extreme, let say metaphysical beauty. On the night of May 24, 2011, I had a similar dream. Also a lucid one. I bring it now here transformed into words:

I am in a house that is supposed to be mine. There are many people inside it and also in the garden. Among those people are my closest relatives. Suddenly I realize, frightened and dazed, that that is not exactly my house. And I begin to suspect that I am dreaming, so I tell it to my brother. He does not believe me. I try to convince him, and also some other people who I do not remember now, that we all are in a dream: in a fake reality. They don’t believe me. Then I doubt if I’m dreaming or not. So I decide to do the test that always works for me in such oneiric situations: I raise my arms, ready to fly, willing to fly. And, immediately, I do hover some meters above the ground, above the people. That makes me aware that I have an enormous power to configure that reality: that I can do with it almost anything I want. But I also remember, while flying, that I must remain calm and focused so as not to lose my power, my lucidity. Calm and focused inside that ‘artificial’ reality. 

I fly towards the highest branches of gigantic trees. I stop, almost in meditation, so as to contemplate in detail the prodigy of that oneiric-vegetable matter. Before that unique spectacle, that unique masterpiece, I feel a truly glorious aesthetic-metaphysical emotion: I am contemplating the matter of dreams and one of its possible configurations.

I resume my flight and, after an unmeasurable period of time, I arrive at a kind of mountain chalet, apparently uninhabited, very beautiful, illuminated with a green/gray light: the light that lives and dies just before sunrises. Then I see a sign with a phone number. I wonder what would happen if I called that number. I do not do it. I don’t care about that number. Actually, I do not want to be distracted, to lose my power, my distance, my immunity, inside that dream. What really interests me now is the pure contemplation of the matter surrounding me, hosting me. I keep flying towards I do not know where.

I arrive at a huge building with large windows on its roof. Through those windows I can see children sleeping inside a bedroom. They wake up and discover me. I do not know what to say. I tell them that I am an angel, that they should not be afraid, that I am there to take care of them, so that they have a precious life. One of chikdren tells me that he already knows who I am because he has seen me in a movie. The other children don’t pay attention at me anymore. I decide to ask them to play with me. Suddenly, I feel powerful love-emotions in my heart and I lose some concentration and control. I feel like I have to urgently get out of there, out of that fake reality, but not flying, because I am aware I have already lost the power to fly. I run down a large staircase, like the ones of the old luxury buildings in Berlin. I feel anguish. I want to wake up. Urgently! I am scared…

But I wake up in another dream. In that new dream I want to write some notes about what I have experienced in the previous dream and bring them to this philosophical dictionary. There are many children making noise and I am unable to concentrate. So I can not write a single word. My mobile rings. It is a voice message. I remember suddenly a third dream (a third artificial reality) in which I had just started a passionate relationship with a woman. A woman with green eyes, very beautiful and very ugly at the same time, whom I had met while leaving a bag at my son’s school. In the message she said she was suffering a lot because I did not return her calls. Her voice sounds anguished in my cellphone. Then I am aware, horrified, that this woman was part of an already melted dream: a  passionate life dissolving  into nothingness like a dying rainbow.

I wake up in this dream or “Omni-life” from which I now write. And I feel a mixture of philosophical fascination and vertigo because of the pitiless volatility of worlds, of lives, of ‘dreams’. And I also feel very sad remembering that woman of nothing who truly loved me from the nothing offering me everything.

Dreams. Life. Sadness. Love…

Before presenting my own ideas, I consider it useful to mention the following thinkers:

1.- Buddha. “The awaken one”. Why to wake up? In order not to suffer? I order to access something glorious? I suggest to continue in life knowing that it is a dream, a sacred dream, an “Omni-life”,  and work hard, dream hard, in order to raise its beauty, its sacrality.

2.- Kant. He said that he had awakened from the “dogmatic slumber” [Dogmatischer Schlummer] thanks to Hume. What is a “dogmatic slumber”? The logical dancers (“time”, and “space”, and “causality” of course included) drag us into the dream of beliefs that they create. But we can not live without them. Because to live is to dream. Because to live is to be bewitched, fascinated, by beliefs.

3.- Schopenhauer. Let’s read this powerful thinker in the first part of his work Parerga and Paralipomena (P I, 232-233, according to the classic edition of Arthur Hübscher, revised by his wife Angelika, and published in Mannheim in 1988):

“[…] in the mere dream the relation is one-sided, namely, only an I really wants and perceives, while the others are nothing but phantoms. In the great dream of life, on the other hand, a reciprocal relation takes place, in which not only one appears in the dream of the other, just as it is necessary there, but also this last one appears in the dream of the first; so that, by virtue of a real harmonia praestabilita, everyone dreams only what is appropriate to him, in accordance with his own metaphysical guidance, and all Dream-Lifes are so artificially intertwined that everyone experiences what suits him and, at the same time, accomplishes what others need […]” 

(The translation is mine. You can check it in the original German version that I paste next).

“[…] im bloßen Traume das Verhältniß einseitig ist, nämlich nur ein Ich wirklich will und empfindet, während die Uebrigen nichts, als Phantome sind; im großen Traume des Lebens hingegen ein wechselseitiges Verhältniß Statt findet, indem nicht nur der Eine im Traume des Andern, gerade so wie es daselbst nötig ist, figuriert, sondern auch dieser wieder in dem seinigen; so daß, vermöge einer wirklichen harmonia praestabilita, jeder doch nur Das träumt, was ihm, seiner eigenen metaphysischem Lenkung gemäß, angemessen ist, und alle Lebensträume so künstlich in einander geflochten sind, daß Jeder erfährt, was ihm gedeihlich ist und zugleich leistet, was Andern nöthig […]”

4.- Freud. 1900. The interpretation of dreams [Die Traumdeutung]. Freud asserts that each dream is a psychic-artificial product full of meaning: a psychic product to which a perfectly determined place can be assigned in the psychic activity of the ‘awakened life’. Freud, though, is spellbound by words, by logical ballerinas  like “Science”. He is a nineteenth-century thinker that speaks of the ‘ancients’, who, in their ‘pre-scientific ignorance’, believed that dreams could be a place intervened by external deities, and that in dreams there were messages, which even announced the future. Freud wrote his famous book feeling that there had been no advance from Artemidorus Daldianus (2nd century AD) in the technique of the interpretation of dreams. Freud considered anyway that the matter of dreams is just memory, which would store absolutely all the experiences lived by a human being since childhood, even the smallest ones. Objective of the interpretation of dreams: to heal our psique. Freud wants to use the dream (the remembered dream indeed) as a tool in order to bring before “the light of reason” (that exorcist goddess) everything repressed, locked inside our unconsciousness. This would end, according to Freud, with suffering: making the unconscious conscious we would be essentially cured. And it was the patient-dreamer who interpreted his own dream, letting the images go uncensored towards the purifying light of reason. Against the science of his time, Freud did believe that dreams made sense, but he rejected the use of fixed interpretive keys because he considered them simple superstition. Finally, Freud, in his work The Interpretation of Dreams, confirmed the popular belief, which, according to him, always considered dreams as a space for the realization of desires that were frustrated in real life. The “dreams of anguish”, though, would be a failure of the system: what is desired by the unconscious would be -morally- unbearable. Then awakening would simply take place.

These are my own ideas about the logical ballerina  “Dream”:

1.- The dream/lives are contents of conscience. I do not find more appropriate words to convey it. I believe that these contents build a fabulous work of art that is being contemplated from a place that is unsayable from here.

2.- We do not die because we do not live. “Living” is a too simple word. “Dreaming” and “Dying” are also too simple. As I suggested in the beginning of this text, I think it would be more appropriate to say that we “omni-live”. Because the fact is that we enter and leave many lives while living.

3.- I believe that in our dreams, life included, messages and ‘external’ beings do enter in order to help us. I am talking about messages that we send ourselves from other realms of our infinite consciousness.

4.- We should not rule out the possibility that someone is contemplating us at this moment, with tenderness, as when we contemplate our sleeping children. And it should also not be ruled out that  that ‘someone’ is loving us and taking care of us from where we might wake up when we die.

5.- The dogmatic slumber. This philosophical dictionary shows the narcotizing power of the logical ballerinas (words / concepts / universals / ideas/ beliefs). I think that any kosmos noetos, in a Platonic sense, is narcotic, but also vivifying, unrenounceable: any cosmos is an artificially constructed and coded dream. The Word (the programming) submerges us in a deep and prodigious  dogmatic slumber. But it turns out that we are also the coders of such prodigy.

6.- The interpretation of dreams. What is ‘interpreting’? Why ‘interpret’? Some worlds nourishing others? But, from what logic? Is not Logic itself, too, a hallucination of the mind? Maybe yes. But we do have to live this dream, in this dream, this very one, and it’s worth looking for nutrients, ideas, milestones, messages -whatever it may be- in other worlds so as to raise the beauty and sacrality of this one. I believe, with Freud, that dreams are at the service of our health, but understanding “health” in a much broader sense.

7.- Awakening. We all know, deep down, that when a dream -or life- gets too hard we can get out of it: we can dilute it in the nothingness, reduce it to pure unreality. We decide what to live and what not.

8.- Silence inside the dreams. Dreams, in general, are noisy, uneasy, like caricatures of this dream/life from which I now write. In dreams, generally, very little peace is felt, and very little freedom… Can we meditate within a dream? Yes. I meditated inside a dream, after knowing myself dreaming in a kind of assembly of religious dignitaries that took place inside what seemed to be a cathedral. It was an experience that I can not really communicate now. On another occasion I dreamed of a town surrounded by light and silence. Everything was too  calm. Too wonderful. Then I felt that I was not in an ordinary dream; and I was terrified because I knew that ‘that’ was something beyond my own death. Or something related to my death. And I did not want to die. Not yet. While dreaming I remember having a beautiful little daughter of four years existing in what I then considered as my real life. So I chose -out of love, out of radical love- to return to this life/dream, renouncing the delights of that -lethal- paradise.

9.- I suggest to differentiate between ‘passive sleep’ and ‘active sleep’. The God of monotheisms, the Creator-God, before creating, had to actively imagine his Creation. It is not possible to think of an instantaneous Creation, not previously imagined and then desired. And you can not desire something that is not previously seen in your imagination. The passive dream would be an entrance into the fruit of one’s own imagination and desire. That might require a self-limited consciousness so as to perceive the created reality as something alien. That could actually be the very meaning of Creation.

10.- Paradise. I do not discard its existence as a perfect dream experienced from a level of consciousness still self-enchanted. Paradise as materialization of everything desired but not fully accomplished “in life”: as the last gift of the brain for itself (if we do not want to get out of the current physicalist-cerebral model).

11. The beloved dream. I remember being dragged by cataracts of successive dreams in which I thought again and again that I had awakened, at last, in the true reality. But none of them was the beloved dream. And I knew it all the time. Until I came back to this one. The one I am sharing with you, my dear reader.

So, my beloved dream is just this: this one from which I write, because in it there are wonderful beings for whom it is worthwhile to assume the sufferings of the ‘ignorant’ (according to Buddha): the one that  -out of pure love- does not detach himself from his beloved dream.

I want this text to end with the above cited words of Schopenhauer. Let’s read once more that great philosopher writing about the logical ballerina “Dream”:

“[…] in the mere dream the relation is one-sided, namely, only an I really wants and perceives, while the others are nothing but phantoms. In the great dream of life, on the other hand, a reciprocal relation takes place, in which not only one appears in the dream of the other, just as it is necessary there, but also this last one appears in the dream of the first; so that, by virtue of a real harmonia praestabilita, everyone dreams only what is appropriate to him, in accordance with his own metaphysical guidance, and all Dream-Lifes are so artificially intertwined that everyone experiences what suits him and, at the same time, accomplishes what others need […]”

David López

The logical ballerinas: “Tapas” (Creative suffering)



Tapas. It is a word, a concept, that triggers inside my mind a paramount philosophical fascination. It comes from Sanskrit. This language was written in Devanagari (“the writing of the gods”). The beauty of its calligraphy can be enjoyed in the text that flies over these phrases. It is the beginning of the famous Creation Hymn (10.129) of the Rig Veda. You can find it on this generous website:

Tapas… We are going to philosophize about a specific type of suffering: the creative suffering.

Nietzsche raised the -of course unwilling- suffering to the highest realms of human nature and sacralized who were able to cry a heroic yes to life, with all its suffering. The philosopher of the hammer worshiped a heroic artistic effort whose goal would be to enhance the bewitching aesthetic power of life, of the sole, immanent reality. Schopenhauer, on the contrary, uttered a radical no to life, to this world, and also proclaimed not only the urgency of its complete annihilation, but also the possibility of the Creation of another world, of another whole reality, unthinkable, even unimaginable, from this one. [See my paper, still in German, on the place of magic in the  philosophical system of Schopenhauer].

Pain. Suffering. Creation of reality. Tapas

We are facing a Sanskrit noun related to the verb tap (to heat). I recommend, to those who still do not know it, this powerful resource:

Cologne Digital Sanskrit DictionariesThere we find these meanings for Tapas: “heat”, “the five fires to which the devotee is subjected in the hot season”, “pain”, “suffering”, “religious austerity”, “mortification of the body”, “the sacred learning of the Brahmins”, “giving the soul to the Brahmins”, “service”, “feeding with roots and herbs”…

The point is that Maurice Blomfield went far beyond and, in his edition of the Atharva Veda, translated Tapas as “creative fervor” (Sacred Books of the East, Vol. 42). You can access this work from here:

Such conception of the Tapas can also be found in the aforementioned Creation Hymn of the Rig Veda, whose third verse sings:

“Darkness was hidden by darkness in the beginning; with no distinguishing sign, all this was water. The life force that was covered with emptiness, that one arose through the power of heat”.

I have quoted from the translation and editing of part of the hymns of the Rig Veda made by Wendy Donniger (Penguin, London 1981). This translator includes a note in the word “heat” that says the following:

Tapas designates heat, in particular the heat generated by ritual activity and by physical mortification of the body.”

But it turns out that we are facing a hymn that wants to explain the mystery that there is something instead of nothing: something, in addition, that arises out of nothing: the Creation. And the key seems to be in a certain type of suffering; or, rather, in a creative channeling of suffering.

This creative power of the ascetic sacrifice -the “heat” of asceticism- shows up in another famous hymn of the Rig Veda, the Purusa-Sukta (10.90), which describes Creation as the result of a violent dismemberment of a primordial man. Let’s  read its ninth verse:

“From that sacrifice in which everything was offered, the verses and the chants were born, the meters were born from it, and from it the formulas were born”.

It would seem that the huge suffering of that ‘proto-human’ who was dismembered by creative gods would be the fundamental energy of all creation -including the primeval Word [See the introduction of this philosophical dictionary]. 

I now proceed to convey some personal thoughts on the mystery of suffering (I have lived long enough to have experienced it, several times, in its amazing fullness):

1.- The reality of suffering, even of extreme suffering, is undoubtedly one of the core elements of our existence. Furthermore, it could also be said that the intensity that such feeling can reach is one of the most astonishing experiences of our lives. 

2. I see two basic types of suffering: ‘protective’ and ‘creative’.

  1. The protective suffering. This one serves to protect, to sustain our world, our current model of existence (for example, the pain that prevents us from performing acts that may threaten the integrity of our physical body, or the stability of our financial dimension, or the survival of our family-archetype, or the purity of our model of sexuality, or the alleged sacrality of our nation’s flag). The worlds and their bewitched inhabitants are protected by a dualistic pleasure/suffering system. Anything that threatens or breaks our cosmos causes suffering. Let’s think about the suffering (‘logical suffering’ could be called) caused by the discourses that derive from political ideas radically different from those that structure, that sustain, the political /ideological comfort of the listener.
  1. The creative suffering. This one would propitiate the need to flee from one unbearable world and create another, and even to take some essential jewels of the first and bring them in the new one. I mean something like a metaphysical emigration that carries what is unrenounceable (a son, for instance) in its harsh, but also creative travel. This type of Creation/Migration requieres extreme, unbearable suffering. It reminds me of Marx’s idea of ​​using the extreme suffering of the working masses to completely dynamite that which he considered as a capitalist (and therefore anti-human, evil) system. In fact that extreme suffering, when it exceeds certain thresholds, works like a plow (and also as a magical wand) in the infinite garden of our conscience. That extreme suffering can even break the containment dykes that separates us from ‘the other’. Anyway, if, as Buddha or Schopenhauer say, life is extreme suffering, we could affirm that life is Creativity (with capital letters). Ubiquitous and permanent Creativity. Creativity that also presupposes (needs) destruction, pain. I am talking about an involuntary personal hell that, at the same time, is the factory of any heaven, and not only of our private heaven, but also a heaven that might be shared with others.

3.- Many of us can remember this: to be suffering intensely inside a dream, and, suddenly, to be conscious -from a mysterious, radical lucidity- that we could escape from that torturous dream at any moment. Only willing to do it. And we do it. We actually did it, because otherwise we would not be reading this text.

4.- It could be said that all the worlds are open. It is possible to leave, to scape to another Maya, or to the ‘nothing’ from which they sprout and to which all the worlds return. Can we create worlds? Yes. And not only that: we can re-create ourselves. And it seems that the decisive force for such huge project is a previous, unbearable suffering: a prodigious emotional catapult. A catapult that you have to handle wisely if you want it to cause the desired effects. Paradoxically, extreme suffering may be an opportunity to perform allegedly impossible miracles inside the world that was protected by the non-extreme suffering. Extreme (not voluntary, let’s insist) suffering might be considered pure magic. That seems to indicate the hymns to the Creation of the Rig Veda to which I have referred before.

Next, I offer a link in which you can see a fragment of All the Mornings of the World, a film directed by Alain Corneau. It tells the astonishing story of Saint Colombe, a seventeenth-century musician who channeled his extreme suffering (and his extreme self-discipline) to create a music capable of summoning and also shaking his dead wife. That music is interpreted for the film by Jordi Savall. Enjoy in fullness this supreme fruit of creative suffering:


La bailarinas lógicas “Tapas” (Sufrimiento creativo)



Tapas. Una palabra, un concepto, que desencadena dentro de mi mente una excepcional fascinación filosófica. Viene del védico antiguo. Este lenguaje fue escrito en Devanagari (“la escritura de los dioses”). La belleza de su caligrafía se puede ver aquí:

नासदासीन नो सदासीत तदानीं नासीद रजो नो वयोमापरो यत |
किमावरीवः कुह कस्य शर्मन्नम्भः किमासीद गहनं गभीरम ||

Es el comienzo del famoso Himno a la Creación (10.129) del Rig Veda. Se puede encontrar en esta generosa página web:

Sufrimiento. Creación. Nietzsche elevó el sufrimiento (por supuesto el sufrimiento no deseado, no buscado) a los más altos niveles de la naturaleza humana, y sacralizó a quien diera un  heroico “sí” a la vida, con todo su sufrimiento. El filósofo del martillo rindió culto a un sufriente esfuerzo artístico cuyo fin sería aumentar la potencia del hechizo estético de la vida, de la realidad única, de lo inmanente. Schopenhauer, por el contrario, dio un “no” radical a la vida, a este mundo, a este sueño/hechizo que tanto dolor nos causa; y proclamó no solo la urgencia de su completa aniquilación, sino también la posibilidad de la Creación de otro mundo, de otra realidad completa, impensable, incluso inimaginable, desde éste. [Véase aquí mi articulo sobre la metafísica de Schopenhauer, todavía en alemán].

Dolor. Sufrimiento. Creación de la realidad. Tapas

Estamos frente a un sustantivo sánscrito relacionado con el verbo tap (calentar). Recomiendo, a quienes aún no lo conozcan, este recurso de la universidad de Colonia:

Ahí encontramos estos significados para Tapas: “calor”, “los cinco fuegos a los que el devoto está sometido en la estación cálida”, “dolor”, “sufrimiento”, “austeridad religiosa”, “mortificación del cuerpo”, “el aprendizaje sagrado de los brahmanes “, “dar el alma a los brahmanes”, “servicio”, “alimentarse solo con raíces y hierbas”…

Pero un estudioso como Maurice Blomfield fue mucho más allá y, en su edición del Atharva Veda (Estrasburgo 1899, p. 87), tradujo Tapas como “fervor creativo”. 

Esta concepción de Tapas también se puede encontrar en el antes mencionado Himno de la Creación del Rig Veda, cuyo tercer verso canta así:

“La oscuridad estaba oculta por la oscuridad al principio; sin distinción, todo esto fue agua. La fuerza de vida que estaba cubierta de vacío, esa surgió a través del poder del calor.”

Para la cita anterior he utilizado la traducción y edición de parte de los himnos del Rig Veda de Wendy Donniger (Penguin, Londres, 1981). Esta traductora incluye una nota en la palabra “calor” que dice lo siguiente:

“Tapas designa calor, en particular el calor generado por la actividad ritual y por la mortificación física del cuerpo” (La traducción del inglés al español es mía).

Pero resulta que nos enfrentamos a un himno que quiere explicar el misterio de que haya algo en lugar de nada: algo, además, que surge de la nada: la Creación. Y la clave parece estar en un cierto tipo de sufrimiento; o, mejor dicho, en una canalización creativa del sufrimiento extremo.

Este poder creativo del sacrificio ascético, el “calor” del ascetismo, también se muestra en otro famoso himno del Rig Veda, el Purusa-Sukta (10.90), que describe la Creación como el resultado de un violento desmembramiento del hombre primordial. Leamos su noveno verso:

“De ese sacrificio en el que se ofreció todo, nacieron los versos y los cantos, nacieron de él los metros, y de él nacieron las fórmulas”.

Parecería que el enorme sufrimiento de ese “proto-humano” que fue desmembrado sería la energía fundamental de toda la Creación, incluida la palabra primigenia [Véase la introducción de este diccionario filosófico].

Ahora procedo a transmitir algunos pensamientos personales sobre el misterio del sufrimiento (He vivido lo suficiente como para haberlo experimentado plenamente, varias veces, en su asombrosa plenitud):

1.- La realidad del sufrimiento, incluso del sufrimiento extremo, es sin duda uno de los elementos centrales de nuestra existencia. Por otro lado, cabría afirmar que la intensidad que puede alcanzar ese ‘dolor del alma’ es una de las experiencias más sorprendentes, más desconcertantes, de nuestra vida.

2.- Buena parte de los sistemas religiosos, e incluso filosóficos, son gigantescas farmacéuticas que ofrecen todo tipo de remedios contra el sufrimiento (‘el dolor del alma’). Y, en muchos casos, se medirá su ‘nivel de verdad’  en función de la eficacia que dichos sistemas tengan a la hora de diseñar sus productos (los cuales además suelen estar fabricados solo con palabras).

3. Veo dos tipos básicos de sufrimiento: el ‘protector’ y el ‘creativo’.

El ‘sufrimiento protector’ sirve para proteger, para sostener, nuestro mundo, nuestro modelo actual de existencia (por ejemplo, el dolor que nos impide realizar actos que puedan amenazar la integridad de nuestro cuerpo físico, o la estabilidad de nuestra dimensión financiera, o la supervivencia de nuestro arquetipo de familia, o la pureza de nuestro modelo de sexualidad, o la supuesta sacralidad de la bandera de nuestra nación). Los mundos y sus hechizados habitantes están protegidos por un sistema dual de placer/sufrimiento. Cualquier cosa que amenace o rompa nuestro cosmos causa sufrimiento. Pensemos en el sufrimiento (“sufrimiento lógico” podría llamarse) causado por los discursos que derivan de ideas políticas radicalmente diferentes de aquellas que estructuran, que sostienen, la comodidad político-ideológica del oyente.

El ‘sufrimiento creativo’, por el contrario, propiciaría la necesidad de huir de un mundo ya insoportable y crear otro, e incluso tomar algunas joyas esenciales del primero y llevarlas al nuevo. Me refiero a algo así como una emigración metafísica (no necesariamente física, o territorial) que, en su duro viaje, transporta lo que no es renunciable: un hijo, por ejemplo, o ciertos valores éticos. Este tipo de creación/migración requiere sufrimiento extremo. Pensemos en la idea de Marx de utilizar el sufrimiento extremo de las masas trabajadoras para dinamitar completamente lo que él consideraba como un sistema capitalista (y, por lo tanto, anti-humano, maligno). De hecho, el sufrimiento extremo, cuando supera ciertos umbrales, funciona como un arado (y también como una barita mágica) en el jardín infinito de nuestra conciencia. Ese sufrimiento extremo puede incluso romper los diques de contención que nos separa de “lo otro”. De todos modos, si, como dicen Buda o Schopenhauer, la vida es un sufrimiento extremo, podríamos afirmar que la vida es Creatividad (con mayúsculas). Creatividad ubicua y permanente. Creatividad que también presupone (necesita) destrucción, dolor. Estoy hablando de un infierno personal involuntario que, al mismo tiempo, es la fábrica de cualquier cielo, y no solo de nuestro cielo privado, sino también de un cielo que podría ser compartido.

4.- Muchos de nosotros podemos recordar esto: sufrir intensamente dentro de un sueño y, de repente, ser conscientes, desde una misteriosa y radical lucidez, de que podemos escapar de ese torturante sueño en cualquier momento. Solo con quererlo. Y de hecho lo hacemos. En realidad lo ya lo hicimos, porque de lo contrario no estaríamos leyendo este texto.

5.- Se podría decir que todos los mundos están abiertos. Es posible salir, escapar a otro maya, o a la “Nada” de la que brotan y a la que regresan todos los mundos. ¿Podemos crear mundos? Sí. Y no solo eso: podemos re-crearnos a nosotros mismos. Y parece que la fuerza decisiva para ello es un sufrimiento anterior, insoportable: una prodigiosa catapulta emocional. Una catapulta que hay que manejar con cuidado si se quiere que cause los efectos deseados. Paradójicamente, el sufrimiento extremo puede ser una oportunidad para realizar milagros supuestamente imposibles dentro del mundo que estaba protegido por el sufrimiento no extremo. El sufrimiento extremo (no voluntario, insistamos) puede considerarse magia pura. Eso parecen indicar los himnos a la Creación del Rig Veda a los que me he referido anteriormente.

A continuación ofrezco un enlace en el que se puede ver un fragmento de Todas las mañanas del mundo, una película dirigida por Alain Corneau. Cuenta la asombrosa historia de Saint Colombe, un músico del siglo XVII que canalizó su sufrimiento extremo (y su autodisciplina extrema) para crear una música capaz de convocar, y también de estremecer, a su esposa muerta. La música es interpretada para la película por Jordi Savall. Disfrutad en plenitud de este sublime fruto del sufrimiento creativo:



The logical ballerinas: “Machine”

At Christmas 2009 I went to London with my daughter Lucía. There I took the first notes for a future essay on the metaphysics of machines. My quest was, and still is, to visualize, and to lay out, the model of totality implicit in the very fact that we speak of “machines”.

I believe that we need a new Logos regarding what is now presented as man/machine (and also nature/machine) dualisms. We need new Logos (new spells, new logical ballerinas) in the service of illusion and life, no matter under which forms, no matter within which artificial cosmos.

London. The city of Francis Bacon, who dreamed a technological Eden for human beings. It is a eighteen-year-old Francis Bacon who appears in the sky of this text.

That winter London was almost completely white. Serene. Extremely beautiful. So was my dear thirteen-year-old daughter, who did not stop taking pictures in rusty corners of the subway, or in medieval dark frozen walls where the artificial moss of truly talented graffiti dazzled like if they were new metaphysical essences created inside the Baconian Eden, by Baconian human beings: Scientists creating new essences, new machines. Together. The perfect human society.

We entered the Royal Academy of Arts in London. There was an exhibition of sculptures by Epsein. We contemplated the “Tripod” for a long time: an anthropomorphic machine gun that triggered fascinated horror in our minds.

That night, in the house of some friends, we witnessed a display of interactive techno-magic delivered by the Apple-wizards: kind, gentle artefacts, all of them capable of coordinating with each other in order to offer us almost infinite contents of “artificial” consciousness: music, pictures, movies… It seemed as if any conceivable reality could appear on a huge screen that, surprisingly, also reflected the London buildings at night. Nothing to do with Epsein’s tripod. Nothing to do with the hostile machines of the “Matrix” trilogy.

“Machine”. I find particularly interesting and accurate the first definition that the Royal Spanish Academy gives to this word (in Spanish “Máquina”):

“Machine (from lat. Machĭna, and this from doric gr μαχανά).”

“1. f. Artefact to take advantage of, direct or regulate the action of a force”.

Some years ago I taught some Philosophy courses based on the “Matrix” trilogy. I think that in those courses we could feel that the very idea of “machine” trembled pathetically, in the same way as all my logical ballerinas do. In the Matrix movie Morpheo tells Neo: “Free your mind”. Free your mind from machines?

I suggest to take into consideration the following authors (the first of them is the one who governs in the sky of this text):

1.- Francis Bacon. New Atlantis. The human being, grouped in scientific societies, liberated from false mental-idols, can create a brand (artificial) new world. A world of machines in the service of human beings.

2.- Heidegger [See here still in Spanish]. The question Concerning Technology. The technician does not really do anything. It is the Being which operates through him. The erroneous metaphysical dualism would reduce nature to “object”, to “rex extensa”, to something there, dead indeed, ready to be invaded and used by an “external” human being.

3.- Nishitani. Religion and Nothingness. Effects of the materialistic-Cartesian dualism implicit in the modern scientific vision of technology: objectivization of human beings and of nature as a whole. Alienation, nihilism, isolation, solitude.

4.- Juan David García Bacca. This philosopher wrote a work whose title is Elogio a la Técnica [Praise the Technology]. García Bacca was in fact a lover of technology. And of Poetry. Maybe because a master work of Poetry is also a machine, something able of channeling forces in order to trigger calculated effects. The works of García Bacca should be translated into English to widen their scope, their influence. This is the link of his foundation:, which is located in Caracas (Venezuela).

I offer now my thoughts in a more orderly way:

1.- According to current Physics [See “Physics” still in Spanish] everything moves, orderly, mechanically, obediently to immutable natural laws. The entire universe might be a huge machine, actually the only one: a machine of machines, a machine that might have already coded, inside itself, any possible future “artificial” machine, because in fact the human brain (the alleged origen of the “artificial” machines) might be a machine: also coded, enslaved, subjected to the “big-universe-machine”. But such model does not seem to grasp the possibility that this total-machine could be modified, as if by magic. Actually, by whom? By what? What could have that mighty, unthinkable power of radical transformation of physical laws? In case those laws could change according to eternal laws of modification of laws, then we could not speak of real change (of metaphysical freedom) but of a huge enslaved solitary-God/robot.  

2.- It can also be said that we live in a grammar machine. Vak -the Vedic goddess of the Word- would be the commanding voice of that prodigious machine we call cosmos, or universe, or world. Is she free? Is she coded? Is indeed that goddess just another huge, prodigious machine?

3.- The entire universe, and any universe (any cosmos dancing any ideological music), may be machines in the free hands of something that vedanta might call Brahman: the great dreamer: the great builder of Maya/machines. Every world would be the artificial (lets say even “poetical”) channeling of a love. The love of God if you legitimate this word, this concept [See “Concept”]. It is said that God made the world out of love.

4.- There is a type of machine that fascinates me especially. It is a kind of human exo-skeleton (even exo-soul) that we call “cars”. I use to visit many cars-websites. Many. What subjugates me mostly is the aesthetic struggle, effort, that takes place in the car industry: that huge work focused on achieving the perfect design in order to trigger an unstoppable desire of owning such machines, as if some sort of “evolution of species” were taking place. It is remarkable that such meta-biological evolution does not stop.

5.- Other machines that fascinate me are the so-called “computers”, the big ones, and the very small ones, like those we still call “mobile phones” even tough they actually are small, portable super-computers and super-cameras and super-cinemas and super-universities and many other magical/prodigious things (of course also dangerous things). Many people are worried about those machines, I mean the so-called “smart mobile-phones”. It seems as if somebody looking at them while waiting the bus might be mentally kidnapped, because he is supposed to be watching or “consuming” stupid contents. Few people take into consideration that one person might be reading Kant or Francis Bacon on his “phone” and another one reading truly stupid things on a book. Paper-pages are sacralized simply because they are old, because they have history.  New materials (like the ones used to make the so called “screens”) are waiting for that sacralization. Its a question of time. I truly love paper pages (specially their smell, and their silence): I have spent some of the best moments of my life watching them, utterly fascinated, but I do also love the cold/crystal screen of the computer I am using now to write this text, the computer that makes possible that you (a likely reader living thousands of kilometres away from me) can read it. First time I saw one of my sentences taking existence on the screen of a computer, expanding its length, changing, emerging or disappearing in a mysterious white dimension, I felt I had entered a brand new, delicious world. And I felt deeply moved. We need a new concept, a new word (a new logical ballerina) to honour that what we still call “computers” or “mobile phones” or even “the internet”. Lets work on that.

6.- We should consider the possibility of thinking, and feeling, all our “machines” as changeable, non essential, parts of our biological dimension, in the same way as we think the wings of a butterfly or our legs (we can live without legs). We seem to exist in a poly-morphic physical structure. And it can be said that a car is as biological as the wings of a dragonfly or the heart of a dolphin. But cars (those exo-bodies) are extremely transitory, subdued to extremely cruel laws of survival of the fittest: the fittest for the human being, whatever that might be [See “Human being”].

7.- The portrait of Francis Bacon (the machines-world prophet) I have chosen for this text is surrounded by an inscription that reads: “Si tabula daretur digna animum mallem”. In English: “If one could but paint his mind”. I think we should not paint our mind. The oil might eventually dry it, kill it. The challenge is to transform our mind into a sacred, crystal-transparent machine. And I consider that the best way of building, carving, such prodigious machine is just to clean (to polish) its windows, and to make them as big as possible: as big as the very mind: no wall without windows.

8.- We should transform, elevate (sublimate) our mind into an attentive and thoughtful diamond-machine, a prodigious machine capable of channeling any force (no matter how dark, frustrating or poisoned) in the service of love and beauty: in the service of the core of reality. Of the pure truth. In fact, the more you study and know any reality (cockroaches included), the more you love it, and the more you find beauty in it, even though no reality has reachable bottom: it can infinitely be deeper studied and known.

9.- A huge diamond with an inner dancing room, lets say a stage big enough for the dance of the logical ballerinas: they represent no ultimate reality, but they are beautiful, and necessary. We need them as temporary bewitching models of the prodigious immensity that surrounds and compounds us. We need them to go on loving the world which we take as real. And the bigger and cleaner the diamond walls of our mind, the more beautiful the logical ballerinas that will enter, and dance, inside it. And, from time to time, we should politely, affectionally ask the logical ballerinas (no mater how beautiful they are) to be quiet, and we should just look though the windows of our mind, without models or ideas.

Our mind: our most powerful machine. 

David López

The logical ballerinas: “Religion”

In the photograph you can see the Hoggar mountain range (Algeria). Many years ago I went there on my motorcycle. And suddenly, one afternoon, while the sky was slowly being filled with silent white fires, I felt something extraordinary: everything around me (sky, mountains, rocks, desert, wind) was transformed into ‘someone’: ‘Someone’ with a superhuman and truly unbearable beauty -almost lethal- that was looking at me, and lets say loving me.  The whole cosmos became presence… I say ‘someone’ because I felt that ‘that’ was aware of himself. And aware of me too.

I felt something similar again two years later in Lyon (France), just walking, alone, prosaically, around the airport. Once again, suddenly, everything was ‘someone’. A presence exploded into my consciousness, an unbearable presence that, now, I can only qualify as sacred. Why sacred? Because it emanated omnipotence, feeling, closeness, attention, magic, sublimity… and love.

Now, almost thirty years later, and I do not know how many dozens of books read since then, I think I can say that those two phenomena were religious. And they were so because I felt a bond, a religation, with something great, infinitely bigger and more beautiful than me and than any imaginable thing.

By the way: That ‘thing’ told me nothing. It just was there, sublimating the whole reality, and my whole existence.

“Religion”. Another logical ballerina. Lets see how does she dance.

There are two etymological interpretations of the word “religion”. The first is based on the Latin verb religare: to tie, to bind, to link.

Link with what? Do those links really happen? Why? Can they be artificially propitiated? Can they be socially institutionalized, regulated, theorized?

The second etymological interpretation comes from the Latin word religiosus, synonymous with “religens”, which would be the opposite of “negligens”. José Ferrater Mora says in his beautiful  Dictionary of Philosophy that in this second interpretation “being religious is equivalent to being scrupulous, that is, scrupulous in the fulfillment of the duties that are imposed on the citizen in the cult of the gods of the State-City.”

I suggest the following readings in order to approach the logical ballerina “Religion”. Just three powerful books:

1.- Kierkegaard: Fear and Trembling. Here we find the radical recommendation of jumping into the lethal, inhuman abyss of God. Religion as a lethal, annihilating link.

2.- William James [See here still in Spanish]: The Varieties of Religious Experience: A Study in Human Nature. This is a classic study on the radical human experience of God´s presence, of God´s sudden apparition. 

3.- Michel Hulin [See here still in Spanish]: La mystique sauvage, PUF, Paris 1993. This is a work that deserves to be read. It studies the non-civilizational, radically private and free religious experience. It should be translated into English. Any volunteer? 

And I share some philosophical reflections now, caused in my mind by the logical ballerina “Religion”:

1.- Considering a cosmos not as the totality of the existent things but as the totality of things (lets say values, relationships, structures, models of life and death and after death, possibilities) we have been told that are real (in summary, considering a cosmos as a story, as a legend we take as real and in which we believe we exist), I see too kinds of religious links: intra-cosmic and extra-cosmic: free thinking versus enslaved thinking, free love versus robotized, narrowed, civilizationally focused love.  The intra-cosmic religions might foster an auto-confinement in a dogma, in a logical/civilizational product: that link offers certainty and successfully harmonizes individual lives within human societies. It can also become a way of making money. This religiosity can be very useful, and even also healthy, but only if it is not assumed too seriously: it can easily degenerate into fanaticism (stupidity, hatred). It truly provides certainty and can even help to channel superavits of fear and envy and frustration, but it always presuppose blindness, and smallness. The extra-cosmic religious link, though, might connect us with the abyss, with the infinity, with something that expands our eyes and hearts, that pushes us to love more, to study more, to question more, to create more too. Surprisingly, we can also find this kind of open religiosity in the most powerful religions of our civilization. For instance, in Christianity we find a philosopher like Gianni Vattimo [See here still in Spanish], the creator of the “weak thought”, who affirms that to be a real Christian implies to be “a bad Cristian”. In Islam we find Ibn Arabi, Rumi, Averroes, Avicena… In Hinduism we have the Upanishads, which point out the absurdity of the sacred texts in which they are included (the Vedas) and also of any rite or ceremony. In Marxism we find Horkheimer [See here still in Spanish]. In Judaism we have the jewel of Levinas [See here still in Spanish]. Within the religion of Science we can find a man like Stephen Hawking [See here still in Spanish] thinking that, when we try to understand the origen of the universe, the ideas of Saint Augustine of Hippo have the same epistemological value as the ones of the Big Bang theory. We find this shocking ‘confession’ in his book The grand design (Bantam Books, New York 2010), written together with Leonard Modlinov:

“Model-dependent realism can provide a framework to discuss questions such as: If the world was created a finite time ago, what happened before that? An early Christian philosopher, St.Augustine (354–430), said that the answer was not that God was preparing hell for people who ask such questions, but that time was a property of the world that God created and that time did not exist before the creation, which he believed had occurred not that long ago. That is one possible model, which is favored by those who maintain that the account given in Genesis is literally true even though the world contains fossil and other evidence that makes it look much older. (Were they put there to fool us?) One can also have a different model, in which time continues back 13.7 billion years to the big bang. The model that explains the most about our present observations, including the historical and geological evidence, is the best representation we have of the past. The second model can explain the fossil and radioactive records and the fact that we receive light from galaxies millions of light-years from us, and so this model—the big bang theory—is more useful than the first. Still, neither model can be said to be more real than the other”.

2.- We could also speak of purely logical religious-links versus pure silent religious-links: religiosities derived from the spells of the goddess Vak. Here would be theism, atheism, etc. Just wars of names (or wars of Gods): “Nature”, “Life”, “Universe”, “Knowledge”, “Science”, “Human rights and dignity”, etc. All of them require the installation and updating of symbolic constructs: books, sermons, indoctrinations.

3.- The religious bond, if fully successful, triggers an irruption of energy: it is as if the ‘connected human being’, suddenly, received an energy that was not available to him until ‘the connection’. There are various energizing cosmos, various energizing religions essentially incompatible with each other in many cases. How is that possible? Perhaps it could be argued that certainty, and the end of doubts and fears, and also the feeling of being part of a closed and protected community, might give strength and peace, which altogether might trigger exceptional flows of energy inside human body and mind and whatever. Are energy and peace and certainty the ultimate goals of human existence? 

4.- Philosophy, when you try to practice it seriously, must be radically empiricist: we should not be tempted to eliminate facts or sensations even though they do not fit into some of the paradigms that struggle to be the home of the whole in the whole of our mind. The religious feeling is something very serious. Very big. Too big maybe. Philosophy can nor ignore it.

5.- We also should be able to accept the possibility of the existence of a very serious, very close and loving bond with some minor god, as Salvador Paniker seems to yearn in that refreshing work that is entitled Asimetrías (Debate, Barcelona 2008). I made a book review that can be read [here].

6.- If we, with Schopenhauer [See here in German], endure the thought -and the feeling- that we are the secret directors of the theatre play of our lives, it must be possible to affirm that the religious bond would be something like a communication, a vibrating cable, set between our creative self – natura naturans, the Great Wizard-  and our created self (natura naturata).

7.- We should consider the existence of  a prodigious dreamer who, conscious and omnipotent inside his dream, inside his created dream, could love an individual person, a concrete picture, dreamed-drawn by him. Dreamed-drawn so prodigiously that the picture could also love back its dreamer, its draftsman; even if that “picture”, that creation, could not see his creator, not even successfully think or speak about him. 

Inside the created world it might only be possible to feel him (I mean the Dreamer/Draftsman), and even to feel his feelings, occasionally, like I maybe did almost thirty years ago, in the mountains of Algeria.

David López

The logical ballerinas: “Progress”.


In the image that flies over these phrases you see a centaur born inside the imagination of the painter John La Farge. A female centaur, actually. It is very likely that some day we will see those beings galloping and chatting and thinking and kissing in our parks, and on the streets; and it will also be very likely that someone will yawn watching them (the human being has a shocking  capacity to routinize prodigies) [See “Human being”]. I also imagine someone yawning, bored, devoured by the prosaic, in a glass house built in a ring of Saturn.

Progress. An almost mechanical mental association leads us to think about “technological” or “scientific” progress. How far can that Baconian magic go? I mean the so-called “Science”. What new essences -in an Aristotelian sense- are we going to be able to create with the matter that is given to us, that constitutes us? [See “Matter”].

Another type of progress: that of human societies (developed/non-developed countries). How can that be measured? Is a senior Google executive more developed than a Palaeolithic hunter-gatherer? Why?  What are we going for?

And another: “personal progress”. Where, in which realm, should the human being progress in order to reach his fullness? Is it possible personal progress in a society without progress?

[membership]It is assumed that believing in progress means believing that the number of happy people in Humanity can increase -progressively- and also the depth and “quality” of that happiness. But, is happiness so good? Is it the ultimate goal of our existence? Or is there something better, higher, than happiness? Maybe yes: freedom, creativity, admiration, creative suffering, love (even suffering love)…

But, in any case: What is exactly what is supposed to be progressing within human progress (in anticipation that at some point of time we can no longer sustain the universal “human”)? Can we talk about progress within God? Yes. Escoto Erígena, among many other thinkers, figured out – perhaps he felt- the possibility that God would go through a kind of metaphysical odyssey until it reached its own fullness.

Is it possible not to progress? Is there an option to return to models of society and morality as, for example, those that seem to offer the classical texts of Ancient Greece? I refer specifically to the supposed Socrates’ proposals that we find in Plato’s Crito: respect for laws, and the constant effort to improve but never, ever, break them: to configure them at the level of the human being. How high is that level?

I offer now some sketches of my ideas on what seems to be inside the flesh of the logical ballerina “Progress”:

1.- The big question might be whether or not the human being can intervene in the causal chains that, according to the materialists, move everything (societies included). If there is no freedom, the most we can yearn is that these deterministic chains provide moments of increasing happiness for a growing number of people (the basic presupposition of human progress).

2.- Both the parishioners of progressivism (the past was worse and all new -all “modern”- is good in itself) and those who long for restoration, or conservation, of past ideals (as it would be the case Leo Strauss) move, or are moved, towards something. There is an idea that magnetizes their action and their heart. They are lured, dragged, by something. And that something might be described as a poetic construct [See “Poetry” still in Spanish]. Political disputes are poetic disputes. The politician that offers more possibilities of dreaming and materializes those dreams will win those disputes. But always temporarily.

3.- We will progress or not towards something: towards an idea of ​​man and society -of cosmos eventually: an idea previously embodied in our mind by the magic work of some powerful word (human or non-human). It could be said -with Plato- that everything moves triggered by love towards an idea. To progress might mean to reconfigure the real in order to bring it closer to the ideal (to a myth, to a poetic construct in need of matter, of reality).

4.- Progress presupposes time. If, with Kant, and not only with him, we deny the existence of time beyond that which is the human psyche, we are forced to talk about something like progress in the contents of our consciousness: in our own mental secretions, if you want to put it that way. Thus, society, the entire cosmos indeed, would progress within us, because of our inner work. What a prodigious place we are! Or we have… Even if we do not really know what we are…

5.- Progress also presupposes a previous lack; this is: the description and acceptation of a state of pre-fulfillment. Which is the heaven of the Science-dream?  (By the way: heaven, like hell, is a place where there is no hope anymore). What heaven is supposed to be achieved with the scientific magic of Francis Bacon, that magic that is said it really works? Suddenly I imagine something like a network of magicians without conditioned matter (natura naturata), creating, being what they want to be in any possible universe. And impossible. Happy, if you want. Or unhappy. Is that an absolutely technological and free society? Is not that what is already happening behind the veil of the phenomenal?

6.- What if no more Progress were possible, if we had already achieve the limits of perfection (Spinoza)? Can any future, any progress, offer us more than what we already feel (and are) in a state of deep meditation? Maybe yes: Art; and love, love towards “the other” (even if that “other” is a Maya spell, an illusion). Love to children, to Nature … to the bodies and hearts of other human beings, and also of other non-human beings. Ultimately, to love Life, and also to love Death: to love Maya and its creators, with all its terrible shadows and dazzling lights. At whatever price, as Nietzsche would say.

7. – Recovering from the metaphilosophical abyss of Mysticism, already with the feet set on the solid land of Maya, one could ask about the type of society, about the idea of ​​social beauty, to which we should aim (the very idea we should plant in the precious garden of the soul of our children). Aristotle thought that the human being is actualized  -it reaches its essential fullness- when he philosophizes. So we should create a society of philosophers.

8.- Perhaps we could measure the progress of a society by the brightness of the eyes of its members. I have seen a very special brightness -really sublime- in the eyes of people who practice Philosophy; radical Philosophy: the one that dares to look and think – and even love- the mysterious immensity that we are and that surrounds us. I also see that shine in children. Not in all of them, unfortunately. Embarrassingly.  There is no possible progress that does not consider the laughter and illusion of children a priority. The extreme sacredness of children.

(Almost) in summary, I think we have to create a society of philosophers: big, ever expanding minds, and also hearts…. ready to open the (even legal) possibility of self-configuring of the human body -his visible part- and, thus, why not?, becoming a centaur: a centaur-philosopher able to gallop, with its eyes dazzling of Metaphysics, in an infinite meadow.

David López[/membership]

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