Gratitude for those largely unnamed women who came before me would have been reason enough to take my mother’s maiden name for my own. But it is an added gift that the word paradise represents such a beautiful ideal – and in its full etymology can recall, not merely what is past in some once upon a time place, but what is still and always possible here in this world.
The word paradise is a good example of single word that has come to mean different things to different people, and is understood in different senses that are worthy of more consideration than we tend to give to the words we use. Examining the different senses of meaningful words is close to the heart of philosophy – though an art that’s widely neglected in our time.
The word paradise is a concept with its roots in many cultures, tailored by each to in its own mythology, seen by all as embodying an uncorrupted, pristine existence - nature in its healthy and harmonious state of being.
For some, it summons images of life before the fall. For others, especially older wisdom traditions, it was not a lost ideal at all, but rather a target to be realized in this life, a potential to be actualized.
The word paradise entered the English language via the French paradis, which was inherited from the Latin paradisus. The Romans had taken it from the Greek parádeisos (παράδεισος), which originally came from the Old Persian root, Pardis -- meaning a place that uplifted and protected the human spirit, such as a beautiful walled garden where life flourished in a lush oasis.[1]
In this sense, the ideal of paradise was understood as an earthly, if rare, place, not past, but still potential here on this beautiful planet. It was understood as a state of peace, prosperity, and happiness, but not necessarily of luxury and idleness.
It was the Abrahamic faiths that associate paradise with the Garden of Eden -- the perfect state of existence prior to the ‘fall from grace’ – the world before it was tainted by evil, before it was dominated by injustice. Even then, it was a target, a potential that might still be actualized, though good leaders and teachers were needed to help us hit that mark.
The Celts too (who called it Mag Mell), and the Norse (who called it Valhalla) considered paradise an earthly realm that could be reached by the living by means of honor and glory. The Egyptians (who called it Aaru) and Native Americans (who called it simply Mother Earth) also considered it to be an ideal earthly condition, and eternal hunting and fishing grounds filled with an abundance that could not be depleted.
This widespread connotation of paradise as an earthly land of plenty, an existence beyond want, filled with the intrinsic pleasures of music, dance, and love – was and is a powerful counter-image to many of the miseries of human civilization, from which escape and relief prove so difficult for so many, except by death.
Given the reality of injustice in so many human cultures, along with the disparity between wealth and poverty this usually involves, this conception of paradise as heavenly came to be associated with a prior and afterlife, to which the worthy might return when the day comes they could transcend, not only their physical limitations, but also the suffering of poverty and deprivation that human existence so often entails.
It may be difficult for many of us, especially in what we call developed nations today, to conceive of the suffering that has been ubiquitous throughout the world. But it was the reality of this human suffering that gave rise to the ideal of paradise as a place beyond these earthly limits. It was a favorite dream of those who were not close to the earthly Pardis garden, not privy to the comfort and contentment of natural realms often usurped by the few, and who longed for this harmonious and fair existence to which the souls of the deserving might somehow find their way. In this way, the concept of paradise became conflated with the idea of heaven, able to be reached only by the worthy after death.
Who is and is not worthy of entrance into this afterlife has been the subject of much speculation across many cultures for many centuries, and paying the price of that entrance has kept generation after generation jumping through hoops set up by those who claim to hold the keys to the pearly gates in this heavenly realm.
It was Buddha, himself born into relative splendor in the tradition of the Hindu sages, who grounded this blissful realm back on earth, teaching that salvation, indeed enlightenment, in this life is the ideal we should hope for. Like the Vedic Indians, Buddha knew that there is suffering in every life, and longed for bliss beyond the body. But escape from the karmic cycle of life was understood by them, not as a place beyond this life, but rather as a state of being within it, that is, as psychological maturity and liberation from desires that cause suffering.
Still, the dependence on an afterlife (upon which the fixed caste system was founded by Hindu Brahmins), was seen by some as a mere rationalization of earthly injustice. And some might wonder if the later Christian emphasis on ‘fallen man’ and the difficulty of achieving justice in this world might actually have had the same source – the belief that we cannot self improve, let alone reach human excellence, in this or any single human life. …has too often proved to be a self-fulfilling prophesy.
We tend to think of this healthy realm of existence we call paradise as a long ago place and time, a decision made early in the childhood of human history. But it is more likely to be a state that exists early in every life, and so not long lost, but rather, born anew and fresh with every new generation, indeed, each child - though maintained only by those who learn the skills of living well.
Hence the importance of what and how we teach our young, that they learn good habits, not selfish ones, from the start – that they learn to want what’s truly good for them, which is naturally good for others as well. Certainly we are born self-interested, but self-interest and selfishness are not the same, after all. As Socrates would make clear (at least to those who wished to see), true self-interest lies in what’s actually good for us, so ancient cultures taught their young to be good…and assumed that goodness from the start. Indeed, latter day notions of ‘fallen man’ might have shocked those who understood the nature of reciprocity and the power of self-fulfilling prophesy better than we tend to today.
Heaven or paradise is not unlike the conception of ‘best existence,’ in this sense, as seen in the Zoroastrian Avesta, or simply the highest function of a healthy human being in a healthy human society, as Aristotle conceived, in which each of us is helped to live up to our better selves.
The Greeks (by which we mean the best of them, not the rest of them) knew that they did not know much, and with their great sage, Socrates, known to us as the father of philosophy, they understood that whatever else we might want to believe (or have others believe), humans simply cannot know on this side of death what will be found on the other side. Likewise, we cannot know, in the strong sense, the ultimate truth about what happened long ago, all we can do is gather evidence, and learn from it.
We may have beliefs about these things, and we like to tell stories, which can be instructive - but because people are willing to believe many things, some of which stretch logic and are contradicted by actual evidence, beliefs, in and of them selves, are not knowledge. They may indeed turn out to be true beliefs, in the end, and "True opinion [may be] as good a guide as knowledge for the purpose of acting rightly,"(97b-c) Socrates admits. But true opinions "are not worth much until you tether them by working out the reason...once they are tied down, they become knowledge, and are stable. That is why knowledge is something more valuable than beliefs, even true beliefs. What distinguished one from the other is the tether."(98)
For this reason alone, there’s no need to fear death, as Socrates showed by the noble way in which he himself faced his execution at the hands of his political enemies (who had by then usurped the first democracy). Indeed, “for all we know, death may be the greatest good,” Socrates said.(*) But, not knowing what’s to come, we need only live as well as possible while we’re alive. Because we do indeed earn different just deserts, so death itself will have different meanings for different people. And perhaps we need only fear death if we suspect our just rewards will not be good. So, as the ancient Hindus taught, one way to eliminate fear of death is simply to change the way we live, and so uplift our just deserts. Which is to say, we might learn while we’re alive so as not to force the gods to teach us the hard way.
Of course, there is the other side of this view: there are those who, seeing no good in this life at all, actually crave death, thinking it the cessation of their suffering, and expecting it to be a better place. The ancient view can help with this too, for if we understand life’s suffering to be opportunities for learning, chances to advance in our spiritual growth, and add to this the understanding that we have come a very long way to get this far, to get to this opportunity, then death – especially willful death – would represent only the need to start all over again, not just in another life, but perhaps even in the cycle of lives.
By this view, throwing away a life that represents the culmination of perhaps many lives that it took to learn this much and get this far, and which offers us opportunities that many others who suffer more would trade anything for, and in the process ignoring so much good that need only be realized by our efforts, might be tantamount to slapping the universe in the face. Whereas the ancients might recommend we view life as the opportunity to learn, which gives meaning to our suffering, which is trying to teach us something.
What begins with individuals actualizing their unique potentials could very quickly become the rebirth of human excellence that has long been prophesied. Just as what began as slow change in polluting the paradise we’ve known could very quickly become hell on earth for our children, their children, and generations yet to be born…or never to be born.
The word paradise is a good example of single word that has come to mean different things to different people, and is understood in different senses that are worthy of more consideration than we tend to give to the words we use. Examining the different senses of meaningful words is close to the heart of philosophy – though an art that’s widely neglected in our time.
The word paradise is a concept with its roots in many cultures, tailored by each to in its own mythology, seen by all as embodying an uncorrupted, pristine existence - nature in its healthy and harmonious state of being.
For some, it summons images of life before the fall. For others, especially older wisdom traditions, it was not a lost ideal at all, but rather a target to be realized in this life, a potential to be actualized.
The word paradise entered the English language via the French paradis, which was inherited from the Latin paradisus. The Romans had taken it from the Greek parádeisos (παράδεισος), which originally came from the Old Persian root, Pardis -- meaning a place that uplifted and protected the human spirit, such as a beautiful walled garden where life flourished in a lush oasis.[1]
In this sense, the ideal of paradise was understood as an earthly, if rare, place, not past, but still potential here on this beautiful planet. It was understood as a state of peace, prosperity, and happiness, but not necessarily of luxury and idleness.
It was the Abrahamic faiths that associate paradise with the Garden of Eden -- the perfect state of existence prior to the ‘fall from grace’ – the world before it was tainted by evil, before it was dominated by injustice. Even then, it was a target, a potential that might still be actualized, though good leaders and teachers were needed to help us hit that mark.
The Celts too (who called it Mag Mell), and the Norse (who called it Valhalla) considered paradise an earthly realm that could be reached by the living by means of honor and glory. The Egyptians (who called it Aaru) and Native Americans (who called it simply Mother Earth) also considered it to be an ideal earthly condition, and eternal hunting and fishing grounds filled with an abundance that could not be depleted.
This widespread connotation of paradise as an earthly land of plenty, an existence beyond want, filled with the intrinsic pleasures of music, dance, and love – was and is a powerful counter-image to many of the miseries of human civilization, from which escape and relief prove so difficult for so many, except by death.
Given the reality of injustice in so many human cultures, along with the disparity between wealth and poverty this usually involves, this conception of paradise as heavenly came to be associated with a prior and afterlife, to which the worthy might return when the day comes they could transcend, not only their physical limitations, but also the suffering of poverty and deprivation that human existence so often entails.
It may be difficult for many of us, especially in what we call developed nations today, to conceive of the suffering that has been ubiquitous throughout the world. But it was the reality of this human suffering that gave rise to the ideal of paradise as a place beyond these earthly limits. It was a favorite dream of those who were not close to the earthly Pardis garden, not privy to the comfort and contentment of natural realms often usurped by the few, and who longed for this harmonious and fair existence to which the souls of the deserving might somehow find their way. In this way, the concept of paradise became conflated with the idea of heaven, able to be reached only by the worthy after death.
Who is and is not worthy of entrance into this afterlife has been the subject of much speculation across many cultures for many centuries, and paying the price of that entrance has kept generation after generation jumping through hoops set up by those who claim to hold the keys to the pearly gates in this heavenly realm.
It was Buddha, himself born into relative splendor in the tradition of the Hindu sages, who grounded this blissful realm back on earth, teaching that salvation, indeed enlightenment, in this life is the ideal we should hope for. Like the Vedic Indians, Buddha knew that there is suffering in every life, and longed for bliss beyond the body. But escape from the karmic cycle of life was understood by them, not as a place beyond this life, but rather as a state of being within it, that is, as psychological maturity and liberation from desires that cause suffering.
Still, the dependence on an afterlife (upon which the fixed caste system was founded by Hindu Brahmins), was seen by some as a mere rationalization of earthly injustice. And some might wonder if the later Christian emphasis on ‘fallen man’ and the difficulty of achieving justice in this world might actually have had the same source – the belief that we cannot self improve, let alone reach human excellence, in this or any single human life. …has too often proved to be a self-fulfilling prophesy.
We tend to think of this healthy realm of existence we call paradise as a long ago place and time, a decision made early in the childhood of human history. But it is more likely to be a state that exists early in every life, and so not long lost, but rather, born anew and fresh with every new generation, indeed, each child - though maintained only by those who learn the skills of living well.
Hence the importance of what and how we teach our young, that they learn good habits, not selfish ones, from the start – that they learn to want what’s truly good for them, which is naturally good for others as well. Certainly we are born self-interested, but self-interest and selfishness are not the same, after all. As Socrates would make clear (at least to those who wished to see), true self-interest lies in what’s actually good for us, so ancient cultures taught their young to be good…and assumed that goodness from the start. Indeed, latter day notions of ‘fallen man’ might have shocked those who understood the nature of reciprocity and the power of self-fulfilling prophesy better than we tend to today.
Heaven or paradise is not unlike the conception of ‘best existence,’ in this sense, as seen in the Zoroastrian Avesta, or simply the highest function of a healthy human being in a healthy human society, as Aristotle conceived, in which each of us is helped to live up to our better selves.
The Greeks (by which we mean the best of them, not the rest of them) knew that they did not know much, and with their great sage, Socrates, known to us as the father of philosophy, they understood that whatever else we might want to believe (or have others believe), humans simply cannot know on this side of death what will be found on the other side. Likewise, we cannot know, in the strong sense, the ultimate truth about what happened long ago, all we can do is gather evidence, and learn from it.
We may have beliefs about these things, and we like to tell stories, which can be instructive - but because people are willing to believe many things, some of which stretch logic and are contradicted by actual evidence, beliefs, in and of them selves, are not knowledge. They may indeed turn out to be true beliefs, in the end, and "True opinion [may be] as good a guide as knowledge for the purpose of acting rightly,"(97b-c) Socrates admits. But true opinions "are not worth much until you tether them by working out the reason...once they are tied down, they become knowledge, and are stable. That is why knowledge is something more valuable than beliefs, even true beliefs. What distinguished one from the other is the tether."(98)
For this reason alone, there’s no need to fear death, as Socrates showed by the noble way in which he himself faced his execution at the hands of his political enemies (who had by then usurped the first democracy). Indeed, “for all we know, death may be the greatest good,” Socrates said.(*) But, not knowing what’s to come, we need only live as well as possible while we’re alive. Because we do indeed earn different just deserts, so death itself will have different meanings for different people. And perhaps we need only fear death if we suspect our just rewards will not be good. So, as the ancient Hindus taught, one way to eliminate fear of death is simply to change the way we live, and so uplift our just deserts. Which is to say, we might learn while we’re alive so as not to force the gods to teach us the hard way.
Of course, there is the other side of this view: there are those who, seeing no good in this life at all, actually crave death, thinking it the cessation of their suffering, and expecting it to be a better place. The ancient view can help with this too, for if we understand life’s suffering to be opportunities for learning, chances to advance in our spiritual growth, and add to this the understanding that we have come a very long way to get this far, to get to this opportunity, then death – especially willful death – would represent only the need to start all over again, not just in another life, but perhaps even in the cycle of lives.
By this view, throwing away a life that represents the culmination of perhaps many lives that it took to learn this much and get this far, and which offers us opportunities that many others who suffer more would trade anything for, and in the process ignoring so much good that need only be realized by our efforts, might be tantamount to slapping the universe in the face. Whereas the ancients might recommend we view life as the opportunity to learn, which gives meaning to our suffering, which is trying to teach us something.
What begins with individuals actualizing their unique potentials could very quickly become the rebirth of human excellence that has long been prophesied. Just as what began as slow change in polluting the paradise we’ve known could very quickly become hell on earth for our children, their children, and generations yet to be born…or never to be born.