I have read chapter 1 of Dr Edward Feser’s latest book, Immortal Souls and “journaling” as I go. A sample of the book can be read on Google Books.

Chapter 1 starts with the question: what is the nature of the mind? The answer: thinking and willing. Ed takes inspiration from St Augustine to kick it off. When I reflect on asking myself this question of my own mind, I discover three certain things. First, know that I am. Similar to Descartes “I think, therefore I am”, I am certain of my existence. A non-existing me could not doubt this. Second, I know that thinking is in the nature of the mind because that is what I am doing. This too is undeniable for to deny that I am thinking just is to know that I am thinking. Finally, I know that willing is in the nature of the mind because I desire to ask the question. To deny this, I would have to resolve to think about something else, which only proves willing is in the nature of the mind.

One point that I need to re-emphasise to myself is that thinking, willing and self-knowledge occur together; they are inseparable. Like a centre point, radius and diameter are distinguishable yet inseparable parts of a circle, so too is thinking, willing and self-knowledge. I remember first encountering this idea from St Augustine by way of Robert Barron in the section explaining the Trinity in his book Catholicism. Robert Barron was showing how I am by my very self an image of the Trinity.

One thing I found myself quite easily doing before Ed called it out was that, when thinking about the nature of the mind, I tended to think about my own self. I was understanding my mind and my self as interchangeable. I don’t say “when my mind thinks about the mind”, I say “when I think about the mind”. When my heart beats, I say “when my heart is beating”, not “when I am beating”. Intuitively, the mind and me are united. I have taken this unity for granted so much so that when Ed says the reader would have noticed the switch between third and first person, I felt like a poor, inattentive reader for not noticing! I am looking forward to the next chapter where this identification will be argued for.

Continuing with his contour, Ed then connects this union of mind and self to personhood. Invoking Boethius’ definition of person, I am a rational substance. Rational meaning thinking and willing. Substance is a technical term for things that exist independently. Substances are opposed to accidents which are things whose existence is dependent on substances. For example, the colour of my skin is accidental — or dependent — of the existence of my skin. Colour does not exist in a freestanding way; I can’t locate “colour itself”. Having read ahead a bit, this difference between substance and accidents is important. The argument going forward is going to be that a person is a substance with accidents not only like colours, size and shape but also thoughts, mental states, powers etc.

This chapter started with a question about the nature of mind and it ended with the contours of an answer to this question: what are we? The upshot of this outline is a whole stack of claims that need to be argued: that mind, self and person are expressions of the same reality (though terms capturing different aspects of it), that the self is a substance, what thinking involves, what willing involves and more. This outline also does not rule out — or in — certain anthropological claims yet, like are we merely mind, do we have free will, is materialism true etc. All that is the task of Part 1.

It was simple to reflect on asking myself this question and it made me realise that much about myself is taken granted. I am so used to it. I think this is the wonderful thing about philosophy; it makes vibrant the plain. Rather than taking things at face value, thinking about them creates wonder, gratitude and humility. To be sure, some philosophy can be fairly dry but I find it deeply rewarding to think about metaphysics. The fact that I exist strikes me as unusual. I do not find how I came to be unusual (though maybe Mum and Dad do!) but I find that I (and anything else for that matter) — be — here and now, quite mysterious. The fact that I have self-reflective power so intimately to me strikes me as unusual and I am looking forward to growing in wonder, awareness and appreciation of, well, people.