We Can Build Great Dykes

As a Dutch person, I am proud of my heritage. As a people, we have a lot to be proud of. We have not only conquered the seas, but we also know how to protect ourselves against it. We know how to build wind mills, and we can capture the wind and use it to our advantage. We know how to build “polders”, and we can quite literally find ways to create new land to live on from the water. We can erect cities even where there was nothing but still waters.

One of the great philosophers of the Age of Enlightenment was also a Dutch person. His name was Baruch Spinoza. He used to live in Amsterdam, but was cast out from his Jewish family for being too forward thinking. He was maybe too far ahead of his time. Yet he found peace and settled in a small village called Rijnsburg, a town where I used to live as a child. There is still a small museum in his honour, right around the corner from where I spent most of my teenage years.

Unfortunately – or fortunately, depending on your perspective – Rijnsburg was usurped by Katwijk, swallowed by the waves of the fisherman’s village where I was born. Rijnsburg still exists in name, but is no longer an independent town. Such are the times…

I actually used to like Katwijk more than Rijnsburg. Maybe I was silly to favour one over another. Now I care far less about the towns. I don’t go too often anymore, which is a shame, because there’s still a lot to learn there. Yet the thing that always stayed with me has been my connection to the water. I’m still only a short bicycle ride away from the sea.

But I’m not here merely to reminisce about my past, because this is a blog about philosophy. So at one point, my wife asked me a deep question: do you want to be the flood or do you want to be the arc?

I answered I want to be the arc. That’s how I see the Philosophy of Balance. Not something to be forced upon people, but something that is open to anyone who seeks to read into it. A philosophy that provides shelter for those that are afraid of the flood.

Because the nice thing about an arc is that it rises. Once you’re inside you get lifted so the flood can no longer touch you. And the beauty is, you’re not in it alone.

Nowadays I sometimes visit the Embassy of the Free Mind in Amsterdam. A beautiful place where they have lots of old books, including about Spinoza. It’s what keeps an old man busy in between writing novels, work on software, and family life. So much to do still, but I love it. I have no idea how long it takes to build an arc, but by God’s grace I believe we have time.

It’s scary too, I admit. Not everybody wants to be confronted with stories of philosophy, or Spinoza, or coming floods. But as a Dutch person, I have learned to swim at an early age and I’m not too afraid of the water. And if it ever becomes too much, I know we are great at building dykes too.

To be continued…