My parents have told me that as a kid I walked around with a very pensive look on my face. So they called me “Le Philosophe”, The Philosopher.
And so it was...and is.
While I took all the philosophy courses I could during collage, it always just sounded like gobbledygook; a mindless word salad that never came close to helping understand myself or anyone else any better.
Philosophy only began to mean something in my early thirties when a good psychotherapist helped channel it to finally make sense of my life and bring relief from chronic, meaningless suffering.
This led to learning to manage my life, continual openings to self awareness, the release of passion, drive, creativity- and eventually- to dedicating the second half of my career to helping others through the same process.
Le Philosophe is at it again.