...in which I have an afternoon with Hegel.
About two years ago I had this dream. I was walking across campus, burdened with the world’s problems and trying to find a solution, a way to fix everything, and you can guess how successful I was at that.
Anyway, I was walking across the quad, and saw a guy sitting under the big tree between the Student Center and Old Main, the tree I call the “Maggie Tree” because my friend Maggie likes to sit under it and read in warm weather. I walked closer to the guy and suddenly realized that it was Georg Wilhelm Friedrich Hegel, the great German philosopher. I was, of course, stunned to see him here at our little West Virginia school (which would have been even more amazing if it had occurred to me that he’s been dead for like 175 years, but you know, in dreams little things like that escape your notice). I couldn’t miss the opportunity to meet the great man, so I overcame my natural reticence, walked up, and introduced myself.
We sat and talked under the tree, at first about trivial things, but it became clear to him that I was troubled, and he asked what was wrong. I told him everything, everything that was wrong with the world, everything I couldn’t understand about the way the universe worked, everything that seemed wicked or wasteful or senseless. He listened very patiently, and then he began to speak.
He talked for hours, it seemed like. He talked about physics, religion, politics, ethics, law, biology, geology, psychology, art, love...any subject you could name. He discussed everything from the origin of the universe to the nature of God, from the proper structure of society to man’s proper place in it, justice and mercy and beauty and utility, and everything seemed so incredibly clear, and all so inextricably entertwined, as if rather than discussing a hundred subjects he was really talking all the while about just the one thing, which I guess was life. I followed it all so easily, and I couldn’t believe that I’d never understood it before.
Finally I said to him, “I can’t tell you how surprised I am by how simple you make all this sound.”
“Why surprised?” he asked me.
“Well, sir, if you’ll pardon my saying so, I’ve read your work, and it’s…well, it’s a little bit heavy, a little bit hard to follow. I know you're a genius, but frankly, reading you is a serious job. But sitting here, talking with you, it all makes perfect sense.”
He smiled at me, this terrifically wise and gentle old man, and he rested his hand on my shoulder briefly, and then he walked away. And I woke up.
Everything that was said in the dream came out of my own head, of course, and I’m sure it was all worthless, but I wish I could remember it, just the same. All I really know about it is that I awoke with this profound feeling that I had been given insight into the inner workings of the universe, that there was nothing I couldn’t know or understand; and it didn’t go away for the longest time.
All the precise things he said to me, of course, disappeared from my head while I was showering; but for days afterwards I was sure, not only that every problem had a solution, but that the solution was within my reach if I thought about it hard enough, that the answer was somehow inside me. That’s a wonderful feeling, and I hope everyone gets it sometimes; the feeling that nothing that exists is beyond your understanding, that you can encompass everything with your own consciousness. I don’t think I’ve ever been happier or more at peace than I was that morning, and I’d like to feel that way again. I wonder if there’s a drug for that. If there is, I’m buying.