Philosophical Stepping Stones

The other day, I and dozens of others heard my niece sing a line that I had once described as being so wrong that I could feel the wrongness as I typed it. My niece had the honor of playing Elsa in a junior production of Frozen (with surprisingly sophisticated special effects). As part of playing that role, she sang the famous song "Let It Go," including the line "No right, no wrong, no rules for me. I'm free." 

When Frozen was released, it faced a lot of backlash, especially directed at this song in particular, and I had been a part of that backlash. But I recently watched a video that caused me to rethink my view of "Let It Go" and of another Disney song, "Hakuna Matata." In a Cinema Therapy video, Jonathan Decker, licensed therapist who loves movies, spoke of both of those songs and how they represented a necessary, but necessarily-temporary philosophy for their respective characters. Simba needed to learn not to worry about his father's death when there was nothing he could do to fix the resulting problems, and Elsa needed to learn to let go of her fear of her ice magic after having repressed them so long. Neither character was entirely healthy in that space, and importantly, neither of them end their stories there, but they were both necessary steps toward a better, healthier place.

The same could possibly be said about some of the philosophies I currently hold. For instance, I'm currently learning about Stoicism, a more mature version of the better parts of the Hakuna Matata philosophy. Stoicism basically means to focus on that which is within your control and to let go of that which lies outside your control. The focus is on making good choices, not on hoping for good outcomes. I don't know whether this will be a good long-term philosophy, but at the very least, it's a step in the right direction.

Not all philosophies are meant to last forever. Some of them can be used as stepping stones to get you somewhere better. Embrace the philosophies that help you, but if a philosophy outlives its helpfulness and becomes more like a millstone or a crutch, it may be wise to be willing to "let it go."