What Is Philosophy?

Philosophy is the pursuit of wisdom, and a philosopher is one in pursuit of wisdom. This is why I call myself a philosopher.

The word philosophy comes from the Greek philosophia. The first part, philo, means “friendship” or “love.” The second part, sophia, means “wisdom.” So philosophy literally means “the love of wisdom.”

Today, philosophy means something quite different. It has become an academic discipline concerned with analysis and argument, a profession detached from daily life. It has drifted far from what Pierre Hadot called “philosophy as a way of life.” (1) Epicurus expressed it perfectly: “Empty is the word of a philosopher which does not heal any suffering of humanity.” (2)

For the Zen Deist, philosophy lives again when it returns to direct experience. It is not enough to think clearly; one must perceive clearly. Philosophy begins in observation—of the world, the mind, and the quiet relationship between them. When the intellect bows to evidence and the heart to wonder, love of wisdom becomes worship without ritual.

The Philosopher Defined

Before I offer any guidance, I must first clarify what I mean by philosopher. There are two kinds: the academic professor and the lover of wisdom.

The first teaches the ideas of others; the second tests truth through practice. Only recently has the second kind—the lovers of wisdom—been allowed again to claim the ancient name. And some academics resist, as if wisdom were their possession. But philosophy cannot be owned any more than light can be licensed. It belongs to anyone who seeks to understand reality through reason and mindful awareness.

The Zen Deist sees no wall between reason and reverence. To observe a sunrise patiently is to study evidence of order; to feel humble before it is to accept one’s smallness within that order. Both ways lead to wisdom. The academic may study the concept of beauty, but the philosopher sees beauty itself and learns from it.

So when universities insist that one must hold a degree to be a philosopher, they confuse knowledge with realization. If that were true, Socrates, Confucius, and the Buddha would not qualify. A credential may serve employment, but not enlightenment. The only requirement to be a philosopher is the will to seek truth through reason, observation, and compassionate living.

Socrates as Example

Socrates of Athens (470–399 BCE) is remembered as the father of Western philosophy, not because of what he wrote but because of how he lived. He questioned without arrogance, taught without textbooks, and guided others not to believe but to examine. His wisdom was not theoretical—it was embodied practice.

Socrates learned his father’s trade as a stonemason, served his city in war, and spent his remaining days walking barefoot through Athens, engaging others in dialogue. By asking them to define virtue, justice, and truth, he revealed that genuine wisdom began with not-knowing. The paradox of his life remains our lesson: ignorance honestly confessed becomes insight.

In Zen Deism, Socrates’ method is nearly meditation: the disciplined observation of thought until illusion falls away. Just as Zen masters strip away attachment to concepts, Socrates stripped away false certainty through questioning. His simple life embodied the Deist respect for natural order and the Zen humility of constant awareness. (4)

Philosophy once meant this—living inquiry. Today it too often means professional commentary. Once it sought the good life; now it seeks the next appointment. The light has not gone out, but it trembles under the noise of its own language.

Returning to the Love of Wisdom

Philosophy has lost its way, but it can still find home. The way back is not through institutions but through stillness, reason, and direct encounter with reality.

To philosophize is to live awake—to look at the stars and trace their lawful dance, to listen within and sense the quiet presence of Mind that orders all things. This insight is not supernatural—it is natural revelation, accessible through attentive reason and experience. (3) The Zen Deist calls this awareness divine because it unites the mind that questions with the cosmos that answers.

You do not need permission to think, or a title to care about truth. To test your thoughts against experience, to question without cynicism, to act justly and walk humbly—that is philosophy reborn.

When philosophy becomes once more a daily practice of mindfulness and moral clarity, it no longer serves the ego but the cosmos itself. Truth becomes light you live by, not a theory you defend. And in that quiet return—the mind alert, the heart kind—you rediscover what the earliest lovers of wisdom knew:

To love wisdom is to love the order of nature.
To live that love is to walk lighter in the world.

Endnotes

(1) Pierre Hadot, Philosophy as a Way of Life: Spiritual Exercises from Socrates to Foucault, trans. Michael Chase (Oxford: Blackwell, 1995).

(2) Epicurus, fragment cited in Hermann Usener, Epicurea (Leipzig: Teubner, 1887), fragment 221. Commonly translated, “Vain is the word of a philosopher which does not heal any suffering of humanity.”

(3) Antony Flew, There Is a God: How the World’s Most Notorious Atheist Changed His Mind, with Roy Abraham Varghese (New York: HarperOne, 2007).

(4) Plato, Apology, Crito, and Phaedo; Xenophon, Memorabilia; Diogenes Laërtius, Lives of Eminent Philosophers, Book 2. Sources for biographical accounts and Socratic practices.