Main Essay - John Slaughter
"Once you experience the contemplative life, there's no turning back." The words of Professor Lawrence Vogel continue to echo in my mind. Last July, I took two philosophy courses at Yale: "Happiness" with Professor Vogel, a historical survey of happiness, and "Philosophy and Cognitive Science of Consciousness," an evaluation of consciousness's place in the physical world. Practicing a contemplative lifestyle, however, is hard to do in high school, as there are no philosophy classes offered.
Unlike my rushed school year, my summer provided frequent opportunities for philosophical discussions. My friends and I were constantly prodding each other with hypothetical questions based on our homework. Take, for example, the opening question of my "Happiness" class: "what makes you get up in the morning?" Some said their loved ones, others said their passions, but my favorite answer was the pragmatic response of needing to use the bathroom. This question, whether motivation comes from relationships, meaning, or self-interestedness, remained a focal point of conversation at meals, in the dorms, and in the library. Intellectual honesty and engagement were the norm in all aspects of social life.
Contemplation is meant to be practiced with others. Epicurus, a Hellenistic philosopher I encountered junior year, practiced a "contemplative life" in this fashion: he continually exposed himself to new ideas by inviting strangers to share a meal and discuss philosophy with him. Inner peace, he argued, does not come from withdrawal, but rather from conversations and careful introspection. Channeling Epicurus's message, I ask myself, "is my worry worth disturbing my inner calm?" When the inevitable stresses of life — school, friends, family — build up, I refocus my attention on self-control and my motivation on peacefulness. Following Epicurus's advice, I feel more intentional in my actions, more mindful of those around me, and more introspective.
To complement my independent reading, I have worked with teachers to design specialized classes on philosophy. Sophomore year, inspired by a summer ethics course at Duke, I investigated the possibility of universal morality in religion, legal practices, and philosophy. As a junior, I compared Epicureanism to modern studies on happiness, including the Harvard Grant and Glueck Study. This 80-year-long project tracked the lives of 700 men and found that social relationships, friendliness, trust, gratitude, and mental health were among the principal factors of happiness — findings that support Epicurus's doctrine. This year, I am evaluating Friedrich Nietzsche's commentaries on social morality and religion. I was especially curious about Nietzsche's writings since they focus on the two fundamental questions that sparked my interest in philosophy: what makes things "good" and what makes things "real."
My independent study junior year led me to the Contemplative Sciences Center at the University of Virginia. The center's mission is to make contemplation accessible to the public. After reaching out to the institution, I spent five weeks researching scientific, philosophical, and popular sources on altruism and adding them into their "Contemplative Encyclopedia," a public online portal for mindfulness and reflection. Through this project, I was able to employ my enthusiasm for philosophy to help provide a resource for those who wish to improve their mental health through contemplative methods.
Philosophy has become an indispensable part of my thought process. When I feel overwhelmed, I consult the writings of Epicurus. When I am struggling to make the right choices in student government or as a member of judiciary, I read John Locke or Confucius, philosophers who focus on civic duty. When I come home from school exhausted, I settle down with some Nietzsche or Lucretius, whose writings include transcendental inspiration. For me, philosophy is both a facilitator of critical thought and a place of mental refuge.