A Record of a 'Border-Crosser' Engaging in Philosophical Dialogue Across Generations
The activity of 'philosophical dialogue' changes its color dramatically depending on the participants. I currently travel between three very different settings for dialogue, and the position I find myself in within them is extremely strange and thought-provoking. My age, in my late 50s, means that in one setting I become a 'watching observer,' in another a 'weight for the discussion,' and in yet another, I transform into a 'young listener.'
Section 1: Connecting Questions—Participating as an Observer in 'Philosophy for Children'
The first setting is 'Philosophy for Children.' Here, reaching a conclusion is not the goal at all. Rather, the very process of throwing out a new 'question' the moment one seems to be reaching an answer, and connecting thought to the next horizon, is what is celebrated.
In this setting, I commit myself to being an 'observer' forbidden from intervening in the discussion. The children participating, and even the facilitator running the session, are close to my own children's generation in actual age. Watching the moment their intelligence sprouts from a step back, I am reminded that intelligence is not a tool for grasping correct answers, but a way of continuing to view the world with wonder.
Section 2: Weaving Conviction—Taking on the 'Struggle of the Working Generation' as the Oldest Member
In contrast is the second setting, centered on the working generation in their 20s to 40s. This is the place among the three where 'logos' (logic) clashes most intensely, and it is a place of struggle where each participant tries to construct their own 'personal conviction.' While they do not aim for a conclusion that everyone agrees on, each person enters the 'grid' of discussion, staking their own existence, and sparks fly as they try to grasp an interpretation that makes sense to them.
In this setting, I am in the position of being the 'oldest.' While exposed to the heat of young intellects, I consciously enjoy the role of a 'weight' that sometimes pulls the discussion into the realm of abstraction, and at other times pulls it back to the realities of daily life.
Section 3: Listening to Life—Standing as the Youngest in the 'Silence of the Elderly'
And the place where the calmest time flows is the third setting, where the elderly, centered on those in their 70s, gather. Here, the absolute focus is on 'listening' rather than battling with logic. In this setting, where a listening volunteer acts as the moderator, words are not used to persuade others, but to quietly present the trajectory of one's own life, which others receive with deep silence.
Interestingly, here I am the 'youngest' at my late 50s. In front of my seniors in life, I stand tall, existing as a 'young person' who listens so as not to miss a single drop of the weight of their lives.
Section 4: The Circle of Dialogue—The Possibility of Words Seen by a Border-Crosser
The purity of children who keep connecting 'questions,' the heat of the working generation trying to construct 'conviction,' and the inclusiveness of the elderly who acknowledge each other's existence by 'listening.' Traveling between these three settings not only makes my own thinking three-dimensional, but also gives me the surprise of how different the roles that words play are at each stage of life.
Cherishing the birth of questions as an 'observer,' weaving individual convictions as a 'participant,' and listening to the weight of life as a 'listener.' Moving back and forth between being the 'oldest' and the 'youngest' across generations, and engaging in dialogue with different senses of distance, has become an essential process for me to continue updating the contours of my self. Philosophical dialogue is an extremely human activity of continuing to re-weave the meaning of 'living' together with others, while holding the different urgencies that come with each generation.
