Have You Consulted Your Dead Philosopher/Therapist Lately

Have You Consulted Your Dead Philosopher/Therapist Lately?

By now, haven’t we all stepped into a “shrink’s” office and had a session or two, or two years, or twenty years, of different kinds of therapy? Obviously something wasn’t working right, and a friend, spouse, parent, friend, somebody sent us to somebody who knows how to deal with these things. Or even if you haven’t had one of those difficult sessions where everything becomes illuminated, haven’t you been to a job counselor, a school counselor, a minister, priest or rabbi to figure things out? A friend’s daughter is now providing therapy for toddlers. Really? That young? And sitting in waiting rooms, I’ve seen a spectrum of the ages walk up to the front desk and check in for an appointment.

I’ve often thought that if someone in this world, or perhaps I should say here in the States, is in need of relief of pain or suffering, they often find the offices of this or that therapist. In fact, it would be surprising to consider any other profession outside of psychology to take up this noble task. But to my surprise, I’ve found, simply by browsing at the reduced books cart in a local bookstore, a book that has raised my eyebrows, created smiles, generated many “a hah’s,” and many other astounding insights. The book, Plato not Prozac is an eye-opening alternative to the natural inclination that when something is wrong “upstairs,” we should consult someone who knows something about psychology, or someone who has worked with psychos….which includes almost all of us at one time or another. But Lou Marinoff’s guide is an excellent introduction to seeing how philosophy (and its many different paths) can be just as valuable an aid for examining the life that is in sorrow, or some other uncomfortable human condition.

Yes, the book is a bit dated, published in the last year of the last century, but it really has been a pleasure to see how philosophy can be applied to what normally is the purview of psychologists and therapists. It does have a bit of a self help tone to it, as it offers plenty of names across the world who are certified philosophical practitioners, but it also offers a rather sensible explanation for why those in the field of psychology can go only so far in helping “the patient” to recover from whatever illness or past event, or relative, or boss, who might be the cause of the illness. The book also offers a significant number of “case studies,” so we can see how philosophy can be applied to the “illness,” but as well, we also get a brief survey of all of the philosophies which we can choose from as our “treatment plan.”
Feeling the angst of existentialism? Feeling too “relative”? Been caught in too many deconstructive moments? Worried about acting out too much with post modern tendencies? Whatever your philosophical grounding, this delighting and edifying medication may help you through your next crisis, or just provide a very necessary antidote from continuing your 20 year relationship with your therapist, who encourages you to return and return for more of what keeps you in therapy. Well, it’s a book that may be out of print, and a bit hard to find, but if you were browsing through 50% off books in a Barnes & Noble bookstore, perhaps you can find it. If not, I can certainly loan out my copy.

Lastly, Marinoff succinctly lets us know why his book might save us all quite a few health care dollars by writing, “How well we live—that is how thoughtfully, how nobly, how virtuously, how joyously, how lovingly—depends both on our philosophy and on the way we apply it to all else. The examined life is a better life…Try Plato, not Prozac.” For a list of mostly dead therapists, he provides a very helpful and short bio with his “Hit Parade of Philosophers.” So if you are a bit exhausted by the same questions from your therapist, perhaps this book might provide some fresh insight.

Plato Not Prozac: Applying Eternal Wisdom To Everyday Problems, Lou Marinoff, MJF Books, 1999.