Meditations on sagacity, philosophy and the good life. In which I reflect on my old neighbor across the street and her sagacity. If a near-illiterate farmer can be blessed, what is the point of philosophy?
Im so happy that I found you! I came across you in Substack last week while waiting for an antibiotic at the striking pharmacy. (Turns out I have Covid for the first time and somewhat surprised, but I may have grown complacent.)
I love this piece and I can picture the woman so easily in my mind.... the kindness and the reflective quality of her life is very clear. A life well lived is a life lived with clear eyes and heart. You drew a lovely picture of her capturing truly, and honoring a life, not without sorrow or regret, but awake and lived fully.
I agree, I think, but can you say something about why you think hers was a life well lived? If this were fiction, I think I would value it, perhaps sentimentally, as an example of integrity. But I'm interested in what criteria to apply to real people, or whether "criteria" are appropriate.
I think that by many common criteria we have about good lives/eudaimonia hers would not qualify. She was childless (involuntarily), unable to protect her legacy (the farm), not wealthy, she didn't have vacations in exciting places or enjoyed luxurious meals, and her relatives were backstabbers who didn't care for her. But she was so good with her animals. I saw her interacting with them daily. And yet--she would also send them away to be slaughtered (the little lambs, when weaned). She never partook in any of the gossiping and she was always so kind and friendly and listening whenever I visited her. Lately, I have come less and less enamored with the idea that there's some sort of ideal way to live but try to embrace the idea of diverse lives well lived. I think in her case, the unwavering attention for the animals (esp during lambing season) was admirable.
Im so happy that I found you! I came across you in Substack last week while waiting for an antibiotic at the striking pharmacy. (Turns out I have Covid for the first time and somewhat surprised, but I may have grown complacent.)
I love this piece and I can picture the woman so easily in my mind.... the kindness and the reflective quality of her life is very clear. A life well lived is a life lived with clear eyes and heart. You drew a lovely picture of her capturing truly, and honoring a life, not without sorrow or regret, but awake and lived fully.
Thank you, I am so glad she became alive for you. She was truly wonderful.
I agree, I think, but can you say something about why you think hers was a life well lived? If this were fiction, I think I would value it, perhaps sentimentally, as an example of integrity. But I'm interested in what criteria to apply to real people, or whether "criteria" are appropriate.
I think that by many common criteria we have about good lives/eudaimonia hers would not qualify. She was childless (involuntarily), unable to protect her legacy (the farm), not wealthy, she didn't have vacations in exciting places or enjoyed luxurious meals, and her relatives were backstabbers who didn't care for her. But she was so good with her animals. I saw her interacting with them daily. And yet--she would also send them away to be slaughtered (the little lambs, when weaned). She never partook in any of the gossiping and she was always so kind and friendly and listening whenever I visited her. Lately, I have come less and less enamored with the idea that there's some sort of ideal way to live but try to embrace the idea of diverse lives well lived. I think in her case, the unwavering attention for the animals (esp during lambing season) was admirable.