Maria daVenza Tillmanns

В статье анализируются результаты работы двух- недельных тренингов сократического диалога, которые проводились с заключенными испра- вительного центра Сан-Диего, с акцентом на ситуации апорий или безвыходных положений мысли. Диалог помог не только раскрыть пред- посылки их мышления, так сказать, ключевые точки, но и помог связать эти точки воедино, дал возможность участникам взглянуть на мир в новой перспективе. Это позволило им пере- смотреть свою жизнь в условиях безопасной и непредвзятой обстановки. В результате этих диалогов участники открыли в себе способность самостоятельно оценивать свою жизнь, освобо- дившись от угнетения, связанного с внешним осуждением.

Статья посвящена обоснованию смены парадиг- мы в философии для детей, а именно тому, что философия для детей сама может привнести в академическую философию, а не наоборот. Сме- на парадигмы связана с раскрытием категории «отношение» (М. Бубер, Д. Бом). Это априорное отношение к миру формирует основу для инту- итивного знания о нем, поскольку интуитивное мышление исходит из полного участия человека в «переживаемом отношении» с бытием. Вместо акцентирования внимания на том, как можно развить у детей навыки критического мышления посредством абстрактного мышления, необхо- димо сосредоточиться на неявном, конкретном мыслительном процессе, поскольку именно он лежит в основе мышления.

Philosophy with children often focuses on abstract reasoning skills, but as David Bohm points out the “entire process of mind” consists of our abstract thought as well as our “tacit, concrete process of thought.” Philosophy with children should address the “entire process of mind.” Our tacit, concrete process of thought refers to the process of thought that involves our actions such as the process of thought that goes into riding a bicycle. Bohm contends that we need to develop an awareness or proprioception of thinking as well. When Socrates enters into dialogue with his interlocutors, he shows the limitations of purely abstract thought by leading them to admit that they really “don’t know.” But, of course, they know. We know what bravery is or what love is, even though we can never “explain” these concepts in abstract terms. Life has taught us through experience what these concepts mean and we have developed an understanding of them. We can recognize when a person acts bravely. This is where I see the link between our tacit, concrete process of thought and emotional intelligence. We need emotional intelligence to learn how to be brave, to learn how to love, and be just in the way we act in the world. Knowing what justice is abstractly does not make us act justly. We have to develop awareness of our actions in order to develop the skills necessary to act the part. This is also where emotional intelligence comes in. In the bulletin of the play Romeo and Juliet, director Barry Edelstein wrote the following: “To perform Romeo and Juliet, actors need a series of skills… they must have the emotional and psychological awareness and openness of uncommon depth; they must listen with acuteness, they must possess an imagination of real suppleness and subtlety…” An abstract portrayal would not bring these characters to life. We can surely agree – abstractly – that racism is destructive, but still act racist, without being even slightly aware of it. My contention is that while our abstract sense of racism has evolved, our tacit, concrete knowledge has not, which explains that racism is for the most part still rampant, even though we know abstractly that it is wrong. So how do we educate and develop the awareness of the tacit, concrete knowledge that informs our actions, and develop the emotional intelligence to give a depth of understanding to what we know and believe abstractly.

After Brexit became a reality in the UK and Trump became a reality in the United States, many thought that this was perhaps the last stand of those who thought of themselves as white and entitled to their land, calling it their country. Others living in their country may be citizens of that country, but it did not mean it was theirs as well. It belonged to those of white origin. And this “fact” would embolden those who wanted to “take back” their country and protect its sovereignty. Initially, I too, thought this was a sign that this nationalist thinking was becoming a part of history and, while it may create havoc on its way out, it was nonetheless on its way out. I thought this, at least, until I read an article in the New York Times by Jesse Singal titled “Undercover with the Alt-Right.”

The intuitive mind is a sacred gift and the rational mind is a faithful servant. We have created a society that honors the servant and has forgotten the gift. – Albert Einstein In my philosophical discussions with elementary school children, I use questions not just to uncover hidden assumptions the children may have, but to lead them to a place of aporia – puzzlement, a place of “not-knowing.” If some children assume that to be brave is to be fearless, I not only ask why they assume this, but go on to ask how it is that we can be called brave, if we’re not even afraid? What’s there to be brave about? With this question, I try to bring the children to a place of “aporia,” a place of puzzlement. Aporia empowers thinking. Philosophy is the pursuit of clear thinking; it is also the pursuit of wisdom, a deeper truth (see quote). Wonder captivates us and connects us to the world around us. In “doing” philosophy with children, this sense of wonder is expanded upon. In their book, Journey of the Universe Swimme and Tucker state, “For or a young mammal, behavior is open-ended in a way that is rarer in adults… In a word, what often occupies their consciousness is play…. they enter into many kinds of relationships out of sheer curiosity.” In doing philosophy with children, we play with ideas. Shobhan Lyons states in her article, “What makes a philosopher?”, in Philosophy Now, “Linking philosophy and truth is a common approach; but I believe that philosophy is less a search for truth and more an engagement with possibilities; …” For example, whereas fear may be a good thing in some instances, it may not be in others. Lying may be necessary in some instances and a good thing (although, it doesn’t imply that lying in itself is a good thing), and in other cases it may be harmful and hurtful. So how do you decide? This is where navigational skills come into play. What may work in some instances may in fact be the entirely wrong thing to do in other cases. So how can you tell? This is where you need to learn how to respond to complex situations. I conclude with examples of aporia questions for 8 picture book stories. “Dragons and Giants,” in Frog and Toad Together, by Arnold Lobel: The question is, are Frog and Toad brave? Children often conclude that to be brave you cannot be afraid. Since Frog and Toad are afraid, they cannot be brave. An aporia question is, whether you can be brave without being afraid? If you are not in the least afraid, what makes you brave? Another aporia question is, whether Frog and Toad would be foolish rather than brave if they were not to jump out of the way of the snake, the avalanche or the hawk. A third aporia question has to do with the question how we know we are foolish or brave when dealing with that which is dangerous.

Proprioception is usually used in reference to body movement and the self-perception of body movement. Proprius in Latin means “one’s own,” or “self.” It refers to the physical knowledge acquired, say, in the process of doing a particular activity, such as riding a bicycle, for instance. You can be told how to ride a bicycle, and this may be of some help. But in the end, it’s the physical knowledge and not the mere theoretical knowledge that enables you to ride your bike. David Bohm, a world-renowned theoretical physicist, applied this notion of proprioception to the movement of thought, the process of thought. In On Dialogue, he contends that thinking can become aware of its own movement and aware of itself in action: “Proprioception” is a technical term – you could also say “self-perception of thought,” “self-awareness of thought,” or “thought is aware of itself in action.” Whatever terms we use, I am saying: thought should be able to perceive its own movement, be aware of its own movement. In the process of thought there should be the awareness of that movement, of the intention to think, and of the result which the thinking produces. This opens the door to an understanding of thinking as a process like any other physical process, such as riding a bicycle. We usually think of thinking as an abstract process – one of learning abstract knowledge and how to apply that knowledge. And this is what we are primarily taught in school. Unfortunately, some methods used in doing philosophy with children focus too much on strictly developing abstract critical thinking skills. In doing philosophy with children, I am interested in focusing on the process of thinking in the process of thinking. In this way, it is also different from metacognition, which tends to focus on the ability to self-correct in response to the self-assessment toward the completion of a task.

Abstract: In this paper we discuss how through our bi-weekly Socratic dialogue groups with inmates at the Metropolitan Correctional Center downtown San Diego, we were able to bring the inmates to a sense of aporia or puzzlement. Not only did the dialogues help to uncover assumptions, uncovering the dots, so to speak, but also to help reconnect the dots and see their world from a different perspective. It allowed them to question their lives in a safe and non-judgmental environment. They felt empowered by these dialogues to become their own life’s judges, freeing themselves from feeling oppressed by the judgments of others.

The compass we use to navigate life needs to be cultivated from an early age. My sense is that the arts, including Plato’s dialogues cultivate our navigational sense. It does not tell us rationally what is good or what is bad. It is not that simple. Remember, the stars we sail by, are not fixed, either. So we need to develop a sense for what may be right or not in any particular situation. We may have a general sense, but need to learn how to apply this general sense to specific situations, which are unique. In every new situation we have to figure out what is the right thing to do. And this may be different for different people as well. Too often we look for a one-fits-all solution, including our moral sense of right and wrong. And this is where we so often end up resorting to a violent “solution,” just to end it all. While we may have acquired so many technological advancements in our modern world, on the level of understanding how to navigate the world we may have regressed even, now that we can increasingly rely of highly technically advanced weapons. Again, violence seems to bear the only “solution.” Yet, with our compass intact, we might be better able to recognize the red flags when we see them in real life and not find ways to rationalize, justify or ignore the reality right before our eyes. When we recognize them early, they can be handled so much easier and better. Molehills are less difficult than mountains. And to get rid of a mountain, you may just have to blow it up, using violence...

When we look at our political landscape today, I wonder where has our integrity gone? Teachers want to know how to explain (if that’s the right word) the language and behavior of the current American president to children in their class. He lies, he is rude and inconsiderate; he bad-mouths people and makes fun of people with disabilities. And classroom teachers not only teach certain disciplines; they also teach the need for civil discipline. The latter seems to be lacking with the current president. How do we teach for integrity in a time, which seems to be totally lacking in any true sense of integrity.

This paper focuses on creating a paradigm shift; looking at how philosophy for and with children can inform philosophy, instead of having philosophy inform philosophy for and with children. My work in doing philosophy with children has shown me the limitations to trying to understand their way of doing philosophy through the lens of how adults understand philosophy and the influence western philosophy has had on the perception of what kids do when they are involved in philosophical group discussions. The paradigm shift is relationally-based and for this I include the work of Martin Buber and David Bohm. Instead of looking at how we can develop critical thinking skills in children through developing their abstract thinking, I am interested in looking at what Bohm calls the tacit, concrete process of thinking. It’s the thinking that underlies thinking, so to speak. It’s the act of thinking underlying the abstract thinking we usually associate with thinking. In doing philosophy with children, I am interested in focusing on the process of thinking in the process of thinking.

Аннотация Понятие «парресия» впервые появляется в греческой литературе в V в. до н. э. Парресия — это возможность говорить свободно и открыто, не считаясь с авторитетами, говорить то, что без этого права может привести к наказанию или смерти. Парресия позволяла говорить правду властям, принося пользу тому, кто властвует, кому зачастую не хватает понимания сути реального положения дел. 1 Перевод статьи выполнен С. В. Борисовым по изданию: Tillmanns, Maria daVenza (2022). “How Parrhesia in Doing Philosophy With Children: Develops Their Touchstones of Reality”. International Journal of Philosophical Practice, vol. 8, no. 1, pp. 1-11. В своей книге «Занятия философией с детьми в начальной школе: сложная деятельность» Берри Хисен утверждает, что занятие философией с детьми является формой парресии, поскольку побуждает детей говорить свободно и открыто. Парресия изменяет отношения между взрослым и ребенком. Серьезное отношение взрослых к детям как полноправным гражданам дает детям возможность серьезно относиться к себе, а также нести ответственность за свои мысли и чувства. Обосновывая свои мысли и чувства и прислушиваясь к мнению своих сверстников, дети становятся критическими слушателями не только других, но и самих себя. Они узнают, что то, что они думают и чувствуют, имеет вес, имеет значение в глазах других, что повышает самооценку. В процессе философствования дети также вырабатывают свои собственные критерии («пробные камни») реальности. Более того, для ощущения целостности и обоснованности того, кто мы есть, необходимо самопознание, что дает нам осознание цели и направления развития.

Аннотация Статья представляет собой более подробное рассмотрение тех проблем, которые были на- мечены в первой части данного исследования «Применение проприоцепции мышления в фи- лософствовании с детьми» («Социум и власть», 2019, № 4). На этот раз автор уделяет внимание характеристике мышления как процесса в пра- ктике философствования с детьми, обосновы- вая эффективность данной практики, которая формирует осознанность действий и развивает эмоциональный интеллект. Автор противо- поставляет статичное абстрактное мышление динамике неявного конкретного мыслительного процесса. Философствование с детьми в диало- говой форме всецело вовлекает в мыслитель- ный процесс, фокусируется на самом мышлении, которое постоянно развивается с учетом разных точек зрения, усложняется и на эмоциональном уровне углубляет понимание.

Russian transition of Why We Are in Need of Tales, Part III by Dr. Sergey Borisov философии Readers are awaiting a new encounter with stories united under the common title Why We Are in Need of Tales. Let me remind you that these deep philosophical books were written by Maria daVenza Tillmanns, a professional philosopher dedicated to the study of philosophizing with children, who has gained valuable experience in this field. Maria’s books are inspired by her work with her students at El Toyon Elementary School in National City (California), with whom Maria held philosophy with children classes for three years before COVID-19. With parental permission, the children provided their drawings, which are used as illustrations for the books. I read Why We Are in Need of Tales, Part III with great pleasure. The focus of this book is on making decisions, sometimes very hard decisions. In Part II, the focus is on dreams — hopes and wishes we have for life. This book looks at how we may best decide how to make those hopes and wishes come true. And the answer Huk and Tuk suggest is deceptively easy: by making decisions “with your eyes wide open.” (5, p. ix). The author of this excellent book managed to describe how to make decisions with your eyes wide open through the playful dialogue between Huk and Tuk. The books are written in dialogue so the reader immediately plunges into the context of a lively conversation. Dialogue not only sharpens attention, but also invites the reader to participate in the conversation. In this way, the reader becomes a listener at the same time.

Readers are awaiting a new encounter with stories united under the common title Why We Are in Need of Tales. Let me remind you that these deep philosophical books were written by Maria daVenza Tillmanns, a professional philosopher dedicated to the study of philosophizing with children, who has gained valuable experience in this field. Maria’s books are inspired by her work with her students at El Toyon Elementary School in National City (California), with whom Maria held philosophy with children classes for three years before COVID-19. With parental permission, the children provided their drawings, which are used as illustrations for the books. I read Why We Are in Need of Tales, Part III with great pleasure. The focus of this book is on making decisions, sometimes very hard decisions. In Part II, the focus is on dreams — hopes and wishes we have for life. This book looks at how we may best decide how to make those hopes and wishes come true. And the answer Huk and Tuk suggest is deceptively easy: by making decisions “with your eyes wide open.” (5, p. ix). The author of this excellent book managed to describe how to make decisions with your eyes wide open through the playful dialogue between Huk and Tuk. The books are written in dialogue so the reader immediately plunges into the context of a lively conversation. Dialogue not only sharpens attention, but also invites the reader to participate in the conversation. In this way, the reader becomes a listener at the same time.

Translation into Russian by Dr. Sergey Borisov Аннотация Понятие «парресия» впервые появляется в греческой литературе в V в. до н. э. Парресия — это возможность говорить свободно и открыто, не считаясь с авторитетами, говорить то, что без этого права может привести к наказанию или смерти. Парресия позволяла говорить правду властям, принося пользу тому, кто властвует, кому зачастую не хватает понимания сути реального положения дел. Перевод статьи выполнен С. В. Борисовым по изданию: Tillmanns, Maria daVenza (2022). “How Parrhesia in Doing Philosophy With Children: Develops Their Touchstones of Reality”. International Journal of Philosophical Practice, vol. 8, no. 1, pp. 1-11. В своей книге «Занятия философией с детьми в начальной школе: сложная деятельность» Берри Хисен утверждает, что занятие философией с детьми является формой парресии, поскольку побуждает детей говорить свободно и открыто. Парресия изменяет отношения между взрослым и ребенком. Серьезное отношение взрослых к детям как полноправным гражданам дает детям возможность серьезно относиться к себе, а также нести ответственность за свои мысли и чувства. Обосновывая свои мысли и чувства и прислушиваясь к мнению своих сверстников, дети становятся критическими слушателями не только других, но и самих себя. Они узнают, что то, что они думают и чувствуют, имеет вес, имеет значение в глазах других, что повышает самооценку. В процессе философствования дети также вырабатывают свои собственные критерии («пробные камни») реальности. Более того, для ощущения целостности и обоснованности того, кто мы есть, необходимо самопознание, что дает нам осознание цели и направления развития.

Readers are awaiting a new encounter with stories united under the common title Why We Are in Need of Tales. Let me remind you that these deep philosophical books were written by Maria daVenza Tillmanns, a professional philosopher dedicated to the study of philosophizing with children, who has gained valuable experience in this field. Maria’s books are inspired by her work with her students at El Toyon Elementary School in National City (California), with whom Maria held philosophy with children classes for three years before COVID-19. With parental permission, the children provided their drawings, which are used as illustrations for the books. I read Why We Are in Need of Tales, Part III with great pleasure. The focus of this book is on making decisions, sometimes very hard decisions. In Part II, the focus is on dreams — hopes and wishes we have for life. This book looks at how we may best decide how to make those hopes and wishes come true. And the answer Huk and Tuk suggest is deceptively easy: by making decisions “with your eyes wide open.” (5, p. ix). The author of this excellent book managed to describe how to make decisions with your eyes wide open through the playful dialogue between Huk and Tuk. The books are written in dialogue so the reader immediately plunges into the context of a lively conversation. Dialogue not only sharpens attention, but also invites the reader to participate in the conversation. In this way, the reader becomes a listener at the same time.

Readers are awaiting a new encounter with stories united under the common title Why We Are in Need of Tales. Let me remind you that these deep philosophical books were written by Maria daVenza Tillmanns, a professional philosopher dedicated to the study of philosophizing with children, who has gained valuable experience in this field. Maria’s books are inspired by her work with her students at El Toyon Elementary School in National City (California), with whom Maria held philosophy with children classes for three years before COVID-19. With parental permission, the children provided their drawings, which are used as illustrations for the books. I read Why We Are in Need of Tales, Part III with great pleasure. The focus of this book is on making decisions, sometimes very hard decisions. In Part II, the focus is on dreams — hopes and wishes we have for life. This book looks at how we may best decide how to make those hopes and wishes come true. And the answer Huk and Tuk suggest is deceptively easy: by making decisions “with your eyes wide open.” (5, p. ix). The author of this excellent book managed to describe how to make decisions with your eyes wide open through the playful dialogue between Huk and Tuk. The books are written in dialogue so the reader immediately plunges into the context of a lively conversation. Dialogue not only sharpens attention, but also invites the reader to participate in the conversation. In this way, the reader becomes a listener at the same time. In these stories, simple in content, but deep in meaning, the author managed to reflect the main existential questions that sooner or later arise in each of us. These questions address issues of everyday life, loneliness, authenticity, the integrity of the individual, life and death. And essentially, all are contingent on how we make our decisions in life.

This paper explores the notion that children have a knowledge of the world of their own – an intuitive knowledge. Being fully immersed in the world as adults are, they too have a knowledge of the world. In contrast to adults, who have developed a cognitive knowledge of the world, children still depend on their intuitive knowledge. Children certainly have a strong grasp of the world they live in; it’s just not dependent on cognitive knowledge. In my paper I compare and contrast Kohlberg and Lipman’s views on children’s ability to be natural philosophers. To be immersed in the world, brings to mind Martin Buber’s idea that we are born in relation, the a priori of relation, which only later develops into the essential relation as we develop the consciousness of our individual separateness. This a priori relation, then, forms the basis for children’s intuitive knowledge, and which is expressed through the language of imagination. And certainly, imagination is not devoid of any kind of reason. In focusing strictly on children’s cognitive development and ignoring their inborn relation with the world, we essentially rob them of their foothold in the world, their inner authority needed for self-regulated thinking. We create a world where children grow up dependent on authority, status, trends and fads. This can lead to what we’ve observed in the famous Milgram study. Philosophy with children encourages children to speak from their own place, in a form of parrhesia, if you will, and to discuss together with others the complexities of ideas. It honors their inborn relation with the world, their statements and aids in the process of developing their cognitive knowledge out of their intuitive grasp of the world. In respecting their inborn relation, philosophy with children allows children to grow up as full human beings, not just as smart and educated “disembodied creatures.” Children speak from the logic of experience (Foucault). Through the process of putting thinking itself into question, children become aware of themselves as thinking beings. It is what Bohm refers to as the “proprioception of thought,” the ability to “observe thought.” Philosophers, I argue, are experts in not knowing. In practicing the art of philosophy, the art of not knowing, we need each other to think together to explore deeper concepts. This binds us and allows us to explore the unknown with joy, curiosity and confidence. In an example from my own experience, I show that children not only intuitively touch on complex philosophical ideas; students are wrestling with ideas about how to understand the world, which is where philosophy began as well. How can we be surprised when children decide computer games are more interesting than life itself, if we have essentially robbed them of the desire to “get dirty,” and engage this world filled with wonder. We have created a world too boring and act surprised when children are bored. The world isn’t boring and in “doing” philosophy with children we keep the fascination with this place we call earth alive.

Embodied self-reflection goes beyond strictly rational thinking – we are thinking beings after all, for it includes our tacit concrete knowledge, as Michael Polanyi and David Bohm would describe the thinking that is implicit in our abilities to know how to do things such as knowing how to ride a bicycle. Polanyi describes this knowledge as: “[knowing] more than we can tell.” To become aware of the thinking below the surface of rational thinking is very challenging. Yet that is exactly what is required for any kind of self-awareness and self-transformation to take place. To become aware of our own thinking essentially means becoming aware of oneself as a witness to our own thinking in the process of thinking. Bohm understands thinking as a movement and similarly to becoming aware of our physical movements through proprioception, so too can we become aware of our thinking as a movement. Proprioception of thinking implies proprioception of embodied thinking. (Self-)reflection is (self-)examination or (self-)scrutiny is a process that requires the courage to question one’s self and with it the touchstones underlying our identity. This process is a form of parrhesia, for parrhesia is essentially also a form of infinite questioning, and which can also be applied to questioning the self.

Thinking together not only binds us, but also allows us to explore unknown, perhaps unknowable, territory with joy, curiosity and confidence. Through asking children what they in some sense already know through their intuitive knowledge and putting thinking itself into question, we can help them become more aware of themselves as thinking beings. And as thinking beings children can learn the skills they’re taught in school, but not at the expense of their own thinking. With their thinking intact, they can skillfully apply what they learn in school to the world in which they live.

The thinking employed by Homo faber, Latin for ‘Tool Wo/Man,’ and a concept articulated by Hannah Arendt and Max Scheler referring to humans as controlling the environment through tools, is instrumental in nature. Know-how is applied to the environment as one would apply a tool, in order to control it. In contrast, thinking that looks at how to engage the whole for the sake of solving a problem, is the thinking employed by Homo Cognoscens (a term I invented), referring to the Examining/Inquiring Wo/Man, from the Latin cognosco, which means ‘I inquire/examine.’ In my essay, I show why it is important to move beyond the limited thinking of Homo faber. Homo faber in some sense still views itself at the center of the universe and capable of controlling it. S/he lives in a geocentric worldview. Homo cognoscens has a heliocentric worldview. Homo cognoscens understands that the world is interconnected and that we do not control the universe literally or figuratively no matter how advanced our knowledge. Instrumental thinking also does not lend itself to developing self-knowledge, for it doesn’t involve awareness of the thinking that goes into solving problems “out there.” It simply applies reason for the purpose of solving problems. We tend to reason things through, but rarely to think through our reasoning. Yet, we live in an interconnected world and we are interconnected with the world we live in. Our thinking reflects our interconnectedness and we have to be able to view it critically and self-critically. Homo cognoscens restores our relationship with the world and other people. Homo faber has gone too far in its instrumental thinking and destroyed relationship in the process. Everything has become instrumental. To move beyond Homo faber is to evolve to Homo cognoscens and understand how we are intrinsically connected to the world we depend on and need to engage it, rather than assume we can control it at all cost.

Fiction Our most nuanced skills for communication were lost when we lost our tails, so the story goes. Huk and Tuk explore ways we can compensate for this loss, by telling stories — tales — through polyphonic listening and by entering into dialogue to create a new, deeper understanding of ourselves and the world we live in. Doing philosophy with children inspired Maria deVenza Tillmanns to recreate the bonds of meaningful communication in the writing of this whimsical, playful story. Philosophy should make us —children and adults — re-think what we think we know and push the boundaries of accepted practices. Hopefully, it will also make us laugh about taking things too seriously.

Can philosophy help ordinary people confront their personal or interpersonal problems of living? Can it help a couple whose marriage is on the rocks, or someone going through a midlife crisis, or someone depressed over the death of a significant other, or who suffers from anxiety about making a life change? These and many other behavioral and emotional problems are ordinarily referred to psychologists, psychiatrists, clinical social workers, or other mental health specialists. Less mainstream is the possibility of consulting a philosophical counselor or practitioner. Yet, there is presently a steadily increasing, world-wide movement among individuals with postgraduate credentials in philosophy to harness their philosophical training and skills in helping others to address their life problems. But is this channeling of philosophy outside the classroom into the arena of life a good idea? Are philosophers, as such, competent to handle all or any of the myriad emotional and behavioral problems that arise in the context of life; or should these matters best be left to those trained in psychological counseling or psychotherapy? Through a diverse and contrasting set of readings authored by prominent philosophers, philosophical counselors, and psychologists, this volume carefully explores the nature of philosophical counseling or practice and its relationship to psychological counseling and psychotherapy. Digging deeply into this relational question, this volume aims to spark more rational reflection, and greater sensitivity and openness to the potential contributions of philosophical practice. It is, accordingly, intended for students, teachers, scholars, and practitioners of philosophy, counseling, or psychotherapy; as well as those interested in knowing more about philosophical counseling or practice.

Many philosophical counselors seem to be counselors who use or point to phil­osophical texts or use abstract indeed logical or rational methods when working with a client. I want to introduce the idea of a counseling philosopher, who uses the client’s own concrete experiences as the basis for philosophizing with the client about the nature of the client’s dilemma - using ‘the between’ (Buber) as that special creative space where one em­ploys the art of philosophizing to the unique situation. Otherwise, the particularity of that client gets subsumed under theory or methods, much like what has happened in psychology and which gave rise to Achenbach’s criticisms of psychology/psychiatry. The dialogical of which Buber and Friedman speak is the give and take between client and counseling philosopher of understanding and expanding perceptions confirmed through the actual relationship. Philosophy as an art (and not a method) helps us restore the trust Buber talks about which allows us to engage the world directly and not through categories of thought grounded in psychological or philosophical texts and theories.

This paper explores the relationship between thinking and acting morally. Can we transfer critical thinking skills to real life situations? Philosophical practice with clients as well as with school children creates a context for not only being a critical and reflective thinker but also a self -critical thinker and self -reflective thinker. In his book On Dialogue, David Bohm explores the notion of proprioception of thinking; focusing on thinking as a movement. The tacit, concrete process of thinking informs our actions in a way that rational thinking by itself cannot. We can try to impose rational thinking on our tacit, concrete process of thinking but knowing how to be just abstractly, for example, does not necessarily make us act justly in the moment. Philosophical practice puts us in touch with our own tacit, concrete process of thinking. Through dialogue we become more than skilled rational thinkers ; we become skilled thinking beings.