Skip to main content

Why Some Seek Truth and Others Don’t?

 




Many times I ask myself why there are people who seek truth and people who don’t.
So far, I had never found an acceptable answer, until I read Saint Augustine (I found many answers in Saint Augustine...)

Corpus pondere suo nititur ad locum suum. Pondus non ad ima tantum est, sed ad locum suum. Ignis sursum tendit, deorsum lapis. Ponderibus suis aguntur, loca sua petunt. Oleum infra aquam fusum super aquam attollitur, aqua supra oleum fusa, infra oleum demergitur...
"The body strives toward its proper place by its own weight. Weight does not only pull downward, but toward its proper place. Fire rises upward, a stone falls downward. They are moved by their own weights, seeking their proper places. Oil, when poured beneath water, rises above the water; water, when poured over oil, sinks beneath the oil..."
(Confessiones, XIII, 9.10)

This explanation by Saint Augustine offers a better perspective to understand my issue than Spinoza’s.

Unaquaeque res, quantum in se est, in suo esse perseverare conatur
"Each thing, as far as it lies in itself, strives to persevere in its being" (Ethics, Part III, Proposition VI).

Spinoza’s proposition explains why a body (res) is what it is and why it endures in itself, but it doesn’t explain (as Saint Augustine does) why some bodies seek something and others seek something different.
In the end, it is a Dasein issue (to resume Heidegger’s leitmotif): each body (Dasein) locum suum et proprium (ἴδιον) petit - each body seeks its own and proper place.

As elsewhere, we characterised Dasein as a structure; we can say that seeking something instead of something else is a structure’s problem.



Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Poetry dwells near the divine light's breath

  The comparison between poetry and divine light that we proposed HERE finds its perfect explanation in Saint Paul, Letters to the Romans I,19: τὸ γνωστὸν τοῦ θεοῦ φανερόν ἐστιν ἐν αὐτοῖς, ὁ ⸂θεὸς γὰρ αὐτοῖς ἐφανέρωσεν , what can be known of God was manifested to them (in men), indeed God manifested to them. Poetry unveils in the human being the need to be human, i.e.the need for Beauty, for feeling the Beauty in itself and with itself, and this feeling is supported by the divine light. As we are influenced by the idea of Saint Augustine of saeculum , we maintain that poetry belongs to the saeculum and therefore stops on the threshold of the divine light [ I] without crossing that threshold, but it senses the light beyond that threshold. We are taken to that threshold by the human feeling of Beauty within us that leads us up to there: up to that door that it is not possible to cross in our being human, but nevertheless, the very dwelling on that threshold is illuminated by the ve...

Similarities between Lithuanian, Sanskrit and Ancient Greek: the sigmatic future

by Fabrizio Ulivieri Lithuanian is the most archaic among all the Indo-European languages spoken today, and as a result it is very useful, indeed, indispensable in the study of Indo-European linguistics. The most important fact is that Lithuanian is not only very archaic, but still very much alive, i. e., it is spoken by about three and a half million people. It has a rich tradition in folklore, in literature, and it is used very successfully in all walks of modern life, including the most advanced scientific research. Forced by our interest for this piece of living archaism, we go deeper in our linguistic survey. One of the most noticeable similarities is the future (- sigmatic future -). Lithuanian has preserved a future tense from prehistoric times: it has one single form, e.g. kalbė-siu 'I will speak', etc. kalbė-si kalbė-s kalbė-sime kalbė-site kalbė-s This form kalbėsiu is made from the stem kalbė-(ti) 'to speak', plus the ancient stem-end...

My world before and after the so-called Pandemic

  Prior to the so-called pandemic, the world was different. I was different.  One of my greatest moments of pleasure was visiting unknown cities, lost in the unknown, following an unknown flux of life surrounded by unknown streets and people.  I felt invisible. No one knew me, and I knew no one. That gave me a strong sense of pleasure. The pleasure of doing things you usually avoid in places where everyday life, routine, and the fear of showing yourself in a way people are not accustomed to expecting from you. I am not sure what I was looking for in doing this. I remember I felt pushed to search for the essence of that world, as I could physically taste that essence. I was looking for an aura of mystery which could rescue me from my nothingness (I called it nothingness, but now I should call it stupidity—because now I realize what an idiot I was). I hoped for goodness from the world, I hoped for a magic of life, I hoped for an encounter which would be my Saviour, the Savi...