Kantian ethics has a seductive theoretical elegance, but this approach has never felt true to my own experience. By far the most important developments in my moral life have had to do with the messier, more emotive side of things. To the extent that I have learned to take an interest in the good, and to improve on my own moral failings, this shift has come about not through rigorous intellectual argument or through heroic exertions of will, but from a gradual opening of the heart.

In the Zen tradition there is a very useful teaching called “don’t-know mind.” Lately I have been thinking about a related concept, which I call “don’t-want mind.”

Sometimes when I’m in a period of intensive meditation or reflection, little snippets of insight will come to me, and then some words will start to form in the mind around those insights — words that help to convey their essence, often condensed into a metaphor or a vivid image that feels poignant at the time.

This is a phrase I’ve used occasionally to describe the philosophy classes that I teach. It struck me recently that it’s also a pretty good indication of the type of reflection I try to do in my daily life.