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Gendlin, E.T. (1988). Dwelling. In H.J. Silverman, A. Mickunas, T. Kisiel, & A. Lingis (Eds.), The horizons of continental philosophy: Essays on Husserl, Heidegger and Merleau-Ponty (pp. 133-152). Dordrecht: Kluwer Academic Publishers. From https://www.focusing.org/gendlin/docs/gol_2127.html

[Page 133]

Dwelling

Eugene T. Gendlin

Heidegger cites Hölderlin's line:

. . . poetically dwells the human. (dichterisch wohnt der Mensch. V&A 202)

We can dwell unpoetically, but the essence of dwelling is poetic:

A dwelling can be unpoetic only because dwelling is essentially poetic. To be blind, the human must remain a seer in essence. (V&A 203)

Poetizing builds the essence of dwelling. (V&A 202)

Poetic dwelling is the large encompassing notion and has many sorts that are each genuinely originative.

Language itself is poetizing in the essential sense . . . building buildings and picturing, in contrast, only happen always already in the openness of saying and naming. This openness penetrates them and leads them.

Heidegger sounds here as if other sorts of building can only follow the lead of language. But the passage continues:

This openness penetrates them and leads them. But just therefore they remain

[Page 134]

their own ways and modes . . . they are always their own poetizing . . . This essence-building of art . . . can now be made visible . . . only in so far as the essence of the art work offers a lead. (H61-62)

Did he clarify this relationship between two modes of poetizing, or did he only contradict himself? He wants to say both that language rules and leads, and also, that other poetizing is originative in its own way. He wants to have it both ways, we might say. Or, we can say that he rejects what is easy to say in old notions, and rejects the seeming linguistic determinism of the first phrases as well as the seeming non-linguistic meanings of the later phrases. If that makes sense it is a new sense.

Some phenomenologists wanted to say that we explicate into language what we have already lived pre-verbally. Heidegger denies anything pre-verbal as if before language. That would leave language in a secondary role and miss its always having already been there in building the symbolic situations in which we live. Nothing human is pre-verbal.

Others would like to say that everything is discourse. Heidegger denies that as well. Originative and unique poetizing happens also in other modes, although never before and without the context that involves language.

Is this only a double denial or does it make a sense we can expand?

What we ordinarily call "pre-verbal" may well be a living that has no words to say it. Language forms are implicit in it nevertheless. That is how we know that the usual words cannot express it, that we have no words for the moment.

[Page 135]

This may be for two reasons: Language is not the only mode of poetizing. There are other originative modes. The painting can be discussed but it cannot be put into words. The other reason is that language is itself a mode of poetizing. Both come into play if we live and sense what is new or odd or calls for thought. The usual words always implicit in any situation are still there, of course, but they too have now been lived further, beyond their usual use. We are not before or without language, but penetrated by it. That is just why we can know so exactly that we cannot yet speak. What is ready to be said is wrong now, and exactly wrong just so. We have a sense that is anything but before or without language and yet we cannot speak and must take time. What has never been said before in the history of the world demands us to speak just so, and easy words fail. We may be unable to satisfy this exacting demand.

The common experience of the "pre-verbal" is not ignored here, but re-understood. It is not merely a double denial. We can understand how language penetrates and makes the contexts we live in, and also that other modes of poetizing and language's own poetizing move beyond what language has already formed.

Heidegger emphasizes many different originative modes of poetizing: language, works of art, also feeling (Gemut, V&A 27) and ordinary things each of which "assembles" in its own way. They all occur in languaged space, but how they originate and how we live with them differs from saying.

But language itself is more than one mode of poetizing. These differ:

. . . poetry and thinking are in virtue of their nature held apart by a delicate yet luminous difference, each held in its own darkness. (UzS 136)

[Page 136]

All philosophical thinking, and precisely the most rigorous and most prosaic, is in itself poetic. (N329)

Poetry and thinking are two different modes of poetizing. Again we could say he merely affirms and denies the same thing: philosophy is, and is not poetry. Or, he makes new sense by using words beyond their already-cut old forms. Although he violates these, we can follow him. This new sense-making and following cannot come from the old uses alone. Rather, it is an instance of the poetizing essence of language making new sense.

We can expand it: The most rigorous philosophy uses words in new ways that reshape things. A philosophy's terms cannot be defined in other terms. One must grasp how the words "work" in their new ways and build in their new ways. A number of spots in which the word is used helps us, until we grasp what the word does, so that we can "follow" the new sense-making. Of course this can happen only if the words bring their old uses along, but the new way they "work" does not follow directly from the old uses.

Heidegger wants to insure that we don't think the poetic aspect of what he says here consists in the poetic language he uses. That only dramatizes what is just as true of any philosophy and any fresh thinking, however technically and prosaically it might be put.

We must therefore distinguish between the existing system of language forms on the one hand, and the poetizing power of language on the other. Not only picturing and the other modes of poetizing, but language itself, its essence, is not caught in the extant forms of language. Other modes of poetizing escape because they are originative building in their own modes. Language escapes the old forms of language because its essence is poetizing. Its essence is not caught within these forms, although they are never absent.

[Page 137] We are accustomed to understand Heidegger's thrust beyond what is already formed. We are familiar with his attempt always to point beyond the already made, to the making, the poetizing, and to the opening for that poetizing. We are familiar with his efforts to take down the structures that hide this opening. But do we understand how he instances this opening as he proceeds? Can we look directly as this process which is with, but also beyond, the already-cut? Let us follow him and be with him in this beyond the already-cut. He calls it "dwelling."

What most calls for thought shows itself in that we do not yet think. Still now, although the condition of the world becomes continually more thought-provoking. (V&A 130)

Here again he uses the word "think" in a way that violates the usual use, since he says we don't think.

Until now we have not entered into the essential nature of thinking in order to dwell in it. (V&A 140)

Thinking itself, in the same sense as building, but in a different modes, belongs in the dwelling . . . Building and thinking . . . are not accessible to dwelling so long as they are segregated and they operate what is theirs, instead of listening to each other. This they can, when both belong to dwelling. (V&A 161-2)

Dwelling is not caught within the language forms because it includes other modes of poetizing and because language and thought are themselves poetic dwelling. While the old forms [Page 138] are always already there, dwelling is not just them. And in dwelling the different modes also meet.

Of course dwelling is not just orginative out of nothing but always with what was formed, yet beyond that.

We learn thinking in paying attention to what calls for thought. (V&A 130) (was es zu bedenken gibt.) . . . In this assertion it is pointed out that the thought-provoking shows itself. (V&A 131) The thought-provoking is that which gives one to think . . . The thought-provoking is not at all first posited by us. It is never based only on our representing it. (132)

The thought-provoking, Heidegger says, is of course not made up by us, and does not begin as what can be represented. It is not already cut and shaped, that is why we must think. Thinking in his sense happens in dwelling. Thinking is upon what calls for thinking. It involves and brings with it what happened already and has been formed, yet it is beyond the forms and therefore cannot be said. It is not already-cut despite implicitly involving the past cuts.

Clearly what is cut is not all there is, nor all that can call on us and call for thinking. Genuine thinking as he demands here thinks upon that which is not just invented but already there, yet it is beyond the cuts and forms.

Genuine thinking is dwelling and dwelling is in essence poetic. The poetic moves beyond the formed, but not without the formed, rather with it beyond it.

The cloud lets itself be looked at from the open brightness. The cloud poetizes. Because it looks into that from which it [Page 139] is itself looked at, its poetized is not arbitrarily thought up, or invented. Poetizing is a finding. Thereby of course the cloud must go beyond itself to what is no longer itself. The poetized does not arise through it. The poetized does not come out of the cloud. It comes over the cloud . . . (EHD 15)

Of course literally "poetizing" means making. Yet he says poetizing is neither making nor finding but both in a new sense. Again we could say it is only a contradiction, he wants it both ways, both made and found, but the words don't make a new sense alone. Do we follow him to a new sense? Here it is a new sense about new sense-making, beyond already-cut and formed things, and yet with them, over them.

Can he say "making is a finding", as he does here? We "know" what he means, but "know" has to be used in accord with what he says here. Else we cannot say that we know what he means. We "know" it as the "sense" he makes, but it seems we cannot say that sense. Poetizing is "true" and yet "new", we can try to say. But "new" has to "work" in this "new" way here which is continuous with what calls for thought (or a poem) already before we say, and of course "true" has to "work" that way as well. It is not true, therefore, that we cannot say the sense he makes. We can, only the words we use must also work in this new made/found way.

Or, we could deny that Heidegger made sense here, since make means not find, and find means not make. If we follow him in opening these words to their new way of thinking, we can also open other words, to work with and beyond how they have worked and formed.

The thought-provoking is not at all first posited by us. It is never based only on our representing it. (V&A 132) The basic [Page 140] character of thinking until now is the representing . . . (V&A 141) the Re-presenting. (V&A 142)

Heidegger says here that we still do not think because we do not dwell. Instead, we re-present what is already present, already formed and cut, posited and positioned. Dwelling is in "the same" formed "place" but differently.

And, if genuine thinking the sort that occurs in dwelling, is upon what is not yet formed and cut, although it brings past forms along with it, then the "order" and "nature" of being is like that. Or, conversely, genuine thining is dwelling because being is-open-for poetizing.

And so, Heidegger says:

Dwelling is the basic character of being, corresponding to which mortals are. (V&A 161)

So far I have stayed very close to quotations from Heidegger's texts. I will now go on in my own way although I will refer back to these quotations. How might we proceed as he points?

We could and should examine the history the words bring, as he indicates, and free the words for a dwelling-thinking. For example, we need to overcome the view of thinking as re-presenting. A massive history confronts us in each word. It can then seem that beyond this history we can only point, as each word is its own historical structure. There is also a question how we can actually re-open this history in studying it, rather than only restating it. I will say something about that later, how we can, and he does open that history to move beyond it.

[Page 141] We can also follow in his way and become freshly poetic, either visibly as he does in his later work, or systematically but in new poetizing, from a dwelling, thinking freshly.

He calls on us to do both of these.

But I have a third proposal. We are accustomed always to look directly at some form, something formed, so that we see the beyond-form only with a peripheral vision. We stay with paradoxical statements then. What we look at directly always is and is not what it is. Of course we sense all that I have said here so far, but we don't look at that directly. We only see it in looking at what is formed and knowing that that isn't "it." What we care about is not as an it is. We imply paradoxically what we want to say, and avoid shyly the question how we can do that. We agree helplessly that poetizing is a making/finding, but we don't examine directly how that is more than a double denial , neither making nor finding.

I propose that we turn 90 degrees. Instead of looking at the formed, knowing that there is more both in our dwelling, and in how "it" is, let us turn and look directly at the relationship, look directly at both dwelling and the old and new forms.

As soon as we take this turn we look directly at a whole field, spread out before us, a new space and openness which of course was there before. But now it spreads out, yet it is dwelling in dwelling, "the same" place.

But can one examine dwelling directly? Isn't anything we examine already a posited something? What we can examine is the relation between the old forms which always participate, and the new forms that arise from the dwelling. I have tried to do this a little: by examining how we "follow" Heidegger's words as they "work" in "new" ways I could let [Page 142] his new working words show themselves in how they "work newly", what "working newly" can be, and how it is related to the old uses.

Instead of staying paradoxically paralyzed, I want to turn and examine this sort of relation and working of poetizing. If we dwell and turn in this way there is suddenly a whole new field in which we can build:

I want to build a term called "opening the words." He "opened" the main words in the passages I cited.

By saying that we do not yet think, he "opened" thinking to work in a way that is new, something we do not do, which yet can be called "thinking!" The old use of a word is always brought along, and has to work along with the new way the word works. And of course that is genuine thinking, not as something darkly hinted at, but as something we can examine, which happens right here before us, if we "follow" how he uses that word.

Prosaic philosophy is poetic, he says, thereby "opening" these words and poetizing philosophically right there.

Language itself is a poetizing, he says, thereby using the word "language" beyond its use to designate the extant language-forms, and instancing what he says. If we study how this is done we will understand much better what is said, but also we become able to make many "new" distinctions and we can make sense in many "new" ways.

To "open" words is nothing like giving them a plain new definition, as if to say "I define . . ." One cannot pour a fresh meaning into them, as if one first emptied them. The old meanings they bring are essential to their new working. In this sense of "new" he "opens" the words "make" and "find". He "opens" poetizing, that is to say making, in this [Page 143] way. But we are turning and looking directly at that making/finding.

Only the new sense that is made/found "opens" the words. If we go on to say more elaborately what "opening the words" is, we can do it only by opening more words as we proceed. A fresh step of thought must "follow", we must be able to come with the old word-uses and "follow" the new one. This word brings the old logical type of following with it: What follows was already implicit in the logical form that preceded. Now we "open" this so that the old following enables the new one to "follow." What now "follows "was" already there, calling for thought, but not yet as a logical form. Retroactively we see "it" there in what "was" before, poetizing not only what follows, but also what it follows from, now.

The following "was" in a way implied already, in another way not. Let us open "imply" and "implicit" so that its old use participates, but in a new use. That from which a fresh step of thought can follow "was" the "implicit"; but now let that word utterly differ from an explicit form we simply hadn't noticed.

If we dwell in anything explicitly formed, we attend to more than that form. This "more" is what fresh thought-steps can "follow" from. We can call it "implicit" only if we allow that word to "open" to this kind of "following".

If we take only the extant forms and word-uses, making and finding would cancel to zero. Instead of a paradox we would have nothing. A paradox always involves the implicit more which can follow, beyond the formed use of the words. By pairing the two old uses in a certain context, it overcomes both this doxa and that one, and makes a new sense. This could not happen if the words were limited within the old forms they bring. A paradox is always a new concept or a new word-use. If we turn and examine how it "works," what [Page 144]"works" means here, we will move from these paradoxes about fresh thinking itself.

Let the words for a moment stay in their old uses, not "opened." Then it seems that the new "sense" is by itself without words. If find and make mean as usual only, Heidegger still makes sense but there are no words for that sense. Can we have a sense without words? We can say more about this with our new "open" words now.

We cannot have a "sense" before language, as if there were not thousands of words "implicit" in such a sense, as if it were not from living in languaged contexts. But yes, we can sense and find no words to say the sense, if we don't "open" some. Very often, in fact, someone points out that what we said is untenable for reasons we didn't notice. Then we usually still have left what we wanted to say, but without ready words. It is a common experience, let us not deny it because we are uncomfortable about sense without its own words.

In fact, we usually begin to speak, "knowing" very well what we will say, but not the exact words we will use. They will come, we are sure. Whenever we are about to speak, we have such a sense.

If someone interrupts just then, we may "lose hold of" what we were about to say, which was not as yet in words. We say we "forgot it", and yet we have something left which enables us to "know" (open the word "know" again) when we recall it again. "Wait . . . wait . . ." we say , "I've got it . . . uhm . . ." It is back now, still not in words. Only now will they "come." We think in such "knowing" and not in words, mostly. We may repeat, over and over the words of some problem, what we already know and can say. The problem, however, that which calls for thinking, is not in words, although it comes only with and after those words. "I've got it, let me think" we say and lean back to dwell.

[Page 145]

Of course such a sense is only with and after just these words or things or events, not alone by itself. And our mode of attending to "it" is also a specific mode of symbolizing, cutting and making "a datum". By dwelling we build such a sense to dwell in. Such sensing a sense builds its own object as much as any other mode of building or poetizing. So, also, different words do not leave "it" just the same.

We can examine such a progression, from an old way words work, to a sense and a new way words work. We can "open" many words to work and be as aspects of this new working. Of course they have to work and be the aspect of this new working, which they name.

So we must dwell in thinking, both to sense what calls for thinking, and to take a step, and again to find/make/keep the new sense. Otherwise the words will fall back to their old use from which the new sense cannot directly come.

Certainly we must dwell in dwelling, the only way to "know" what that word says, and how it "follows" when he "opens" thinking and building and poetizing, and how it makes "sense."

But was not poetry always like that? It is common to say that a poem's meaning can be said only by that poem, and then not if you take the words separately. They will only mean again as they used to. Or, as I would say, one can say what the poem says, further and further, but only by "opening" the further words to how that poem lets them work in a further poetizing.

The dwelling from which we write a poem is not just the old uses of words, nor its new ones which are not there yet and have never been. We write poems from what calls for poetry, we might say, and only dwelling hears that, builds that, and in words builds it further. (But it will not be right to say that dwelling is divided into different kinds, [Page 146] but the way the kinds can, as Heidegger said, listen to each other.)

If we dwell, we dwell with how anything is already formed, shaped, cut, present, representable, and yet also implicit and being-for further poetizing. What is implied-from-the-form can be got directly, but anything is also "implicit," which means (if we dwell) that it is for poetizing. "Implicit" does not convert into explicit, ever, as if it is a form we didn't notice.

Anything said or otherwise lived is always both: both already shaped some way, and also, in being already-shaped, demanding further shaping. My words, "cutting" "shaping," "already-cut," indeed any words in their old uses, will not represent this, and that is very well. Fresh thinking is not re-presenting but dwelling. We can now say "clearly" (if we open that word to allow "new" clarity) . . . we can now say clearly that the past forms need not work to require us to remain within them. They also "work" in the power of further forming, which happens in dwelling, and does not follow from them in the logical way.

The two reasons why there is more than language has formed, meet in dwelling. There are other modes of poetizing, and language itself offers several modes. These meet in dwelling, so that what now calls for thought was not made only by language. Language itself is a poetizing which opens further poetizing, in language and in other modes. Dwelling with the formed, we can think what calls for thought and cannot be said. There will be dwelling also, later on, when much "new" has been said, made/found. We can then dwell with that, too.

We can take our stand in this openness for dwelling.

For example, we can examine how the old forms "work" in these new ways. We can see that they work in two different [Page 147] ways: They can work in their old ways, as they were designed to do, each excluding the others, contradicting each other. Or, they can "work" "together" in further fresh sense-making, in calling for thought. Of course they are not supposed to work that way: They are supposed to be logical structures that have necessary implications and contradict other such structures and their implications, the old logical kind of "follow", and "implicit." But in examining thinking that dwells we can study another sort of "follow", another way the made forms can and do "work", in a different sort of together than contradiction.

From examining how such steps "follow", if we use this sort of "following" itself, what we say can instance itself, as the examples I drew from Heidegger do. The newly made/found use of the words lets them "open" to their use just now, as they instance what they say. Such saying is more open also to further steps of the same sort, which would not need to remain within the forms they make, and yet such further steps would not simply violate or contradict what this step finds/makes.

In this sense, the "implicit" was-for such steps and therefore can never be explicated. It is always what is for dwelling, what is for further poetizing/finding. The "implicit" can not be said, but this fact can be said, and said "exactly", so that the saying brings what it says with it. Although said and formed, it is for, in a way that cannot be followed from the form alone. "Dwelling" is being in something cut and formed in such a way that one attends to "it" as demanding and enabling further forming that cannot follow from it as formed.

To bring home the difference between implicit dwelling, and the explicit form anything always also is, let me use an example:

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You want to communicate some thought of importance to you, and let us say you want to tell it especially to a certain person. You want to hear that person's reaction.

If the person does not yet grasp your meaning exactly, you don't want to hear anything back yet. "Wait . . ." you say, "don't react yet, it won't be to what I really mean." You continue talking till the person grasps exactly what you mean. Now you sigh contentedly and wait for the reaction.

If you could predict the reaction you would not have had to work so hard. If the person were to say back to you only just what you said, you would not be satisfied. You want to hear what this person makes of what you said. This is because what in one way is the same meaning in you and in that person, is in another way two very different events. The person makes the same meaning out of very different implicits. We usually speak as if the meaning you conveyed is the same in the other person, and only the subsequent "reaction" differs. But reactions you cannot predict come out of your exact explicit meaning but made/found by this person with very different implicits. That is why if this person grasps your exact meaning, something new has happened.

The word "reaction" now works so a reaction is from the new event of that person grasping the meaning, not a separate reaction to the same meaning. The meaning is explicitly the same exact one, but implicitly it is new and different. That is how something new will follow. It follows from the dwelling which is different if this person dwells, not from the explicit point which is exactly the same.

"Grasp" or "understand" should be understood from dwelling: We make an exact explicit point freshly out of much that functions implicitly. The same statement can be grasped in implicitly very different ways, and yet exactly.

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If we today dwell in exactly what earlier thinkers thought, we move beyond them. We sense a calling for thought that is new. I have tried to dwell in what Heidegger said exactly. Just that calls for thought, and not only as he explicitly calls for thought. As we dwell in that, "it" calls for more than he said.

Heidegger's poetic procedure instances what he says. If we dwell in examining how it instances itself, we dwell on a calling for thought, how such poetizing is possible.

Dwelling is in the built forms yet beyond them. If we turn 90 degrees and look at dwelling thought-steps themselves, we can compare and contrast them with logical thought-steps. We can also see that much used to be said about the world which stemmed from the kind of order logical steps characterize. With at least equal cogency (which can be followed) we can say that the world has an "order" that enables poetizing steps which can be followed. The world has at least both sorts of "order".

All the specifics that are specified in this way would lack the kind of explanation that traces the same units, parts and forms through a transition, so that the formed parts at time two are seen to be the same as those at time one. That is the logical kind of explanation and following. Instead, such steps as I examined have the character of what is for dwelling.

For example in studying poetizing in the usual way, even the theory which most emphasizes the novelty of metaphors still uses only the old order. Max Black, emphasizing that metaphors create a new meaning and pattern, explains them this way: If a smoked glass has a pattern drawn with the finger on it, so the pattern is the only transparent part, and this held up to the stars, a unique new pattern emerges, neither the usual star pattern nor the one drawn on the smoked glass. Here we see that only a selection of the [Page 150] otherwise same fixed stars is possible. The new pattern from the poetry must be explained as what was already there, consisting of the same fixed units traced through from before. The theorists of metaphor have not thought that the world might be "ordered" more like metaphors, or so that metaphors are possible. Instead, even the most novelty-concerned theory assumes what it studies in fixed, pre-existent units. A new theory of metaphor follows, if we open "metaphor" to itself. It makes/finds in a poetizing that is a dwelling in and beyond the old units. They do not trace through as pre-existent similarities, pre-existing respects of comparison, arrangements of fixed units. The "order" that calls for the various modes of poetizing is very demanding and only just certain steps "work." But it is an order that makes poetizing possible, an "order" of that character, an order-for further steps of this sort.

When we dwell in what is already built we hear what calls for further poetizing, and poetize freshly. The more is already built, the more this is so. In the "order" for poetizing the same built forms function differently. They are not missed or ignored. The order for poetizing is not less ordered or less demanding, but more so. It is not illogical but includes and dwells in old order in a different way. Extant forms not only limit what can follow, they also enable and open for poetizing. In the old view the more forms exist, the less can follow. From dwelling the order is such that the more forms exist, the more can follow.

Therefore, not any and all metaphoric or poetic productions have the required character. Not at all. Two specifications we have expanded from Heidegger are strongly against that. First, we are asked to think on what calls for thought, which can be heard only in dwelling. Only in dwelling because what calls for thought cannot be said, is not formed. We dwell in the forms, but not from them but from the dwelling in them does something call for thought. Because dwelling involves the not yet formed beyond the [Page 151] forms, therefore also the other poetizing modes can meet in dwelling. As formed they would exclude each other. What calls for thought is more than language, and comes from dwelling in much more than language.

Secondly, opening words in this way requires that they instance the poetizing order, so that they account for how they themselves work. The words must take their new order from how they newly work. This is missed when poetic ways serve just any argument, and especially (as is sometimes done) when one argues in fresh, poetic ways that fresh thinking and dwelling are impossible. One can do that, but then one cannot specify how one's own procedure is possible, how metaphoric ways work.

I have tried to show that Heidegger's words also say what their new way of working freshly instances. They instance the new ways they tell about, and so they tell about how they can work as they do. I tried to show that we can examine this self-instancing directly by opening the further words we use to such instancing, exemplifying and specifying various aspects of this poetic "order." I showed how language is surely implicit in what cannot be said. We dwell in what is formed and thereby we dwell upon what calls for thought and is not formed, and cannot be said. Extant forms that explicitly exclude and limit, function differently, in a different together, when they are implicit in dwelling. The further and the more exactly they have built and formed, the more "order" is for, and calls for, further steps from dwelling.

Any aspect of anything we study can instance this "order."

The basic character of being to which mortals correspond, is dwelling. [*]

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NOTES

[*] Joan Stambaugh asked Heidegger what had become of his concept "Befindlichkeit" from Being and Time, since it is not mentioned in his later writings. "It is now 'dwelling'," he said.

See: Gendlin, E.G. "Befindlichkeit." Review of Existential Psychology and Psychiatry, Vol. XVI, Nos. 1-3, 1978-79.

I am grateful to Professor Keith Hoeller for letting me read his paper: "Is Heidegger Really a Poet?" presented at the Seventeenth Annual Meeting of the Heidegger Conference, University of New Hampshire, May 1983.

The following abbreviations for Heidegger's writings have been incorporated in the body of the essay.

V&A: Vorträge und Aufsätze. Neske, Pfullingen, 1954.

H: Holzwege. Klostermann, Frankfurt, 1950.

UzS: Unterwegs zur Sprache. Neske, Pfullingen, 1959.

N: Nietzsche, Vol. 1. Neske, Pfullingen, 1961.

EHD: Erläuterungen zu Hölderlins Dichtung. Klostermann, Frankfurt, 1971.

Read at Seventeenth Annual Meeting of the Heidegger Conference, University of New Hampshire, May 1983.

The Notes were revised for easier reading, April 2007.

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