David Hume Helped Me Solve My Midlife Crisis

Not knowing anything about philosophy, I started reading Nietzsche. I really couldn't even understand what he was talking about. After beating my head against it for some time, I reached out to an acquaintance who was a philosophy instructor at a university and told him about my experience.

"Try reading Hume," he advised me.

So, I read Hume, and I enjoyed it.

Last summer, I was visiting Edinburgh, Scotland for the first time. I've always had a fascination with cemeteries: how the stones were carved, how old the people were, how long they lived, how long did their widows outlive them, etc. In this particular cemetery in Edinburgh, I came across the tomb of David Hume. It was completely unexpected: I was vaguely aware he was Scottish, but I didn't expect to find his tomb. I took a picture and excitedly sent to all my friends. "Hey, I found the tomb of David Hume!"

I guess my comment is a bit tangential to the article. Like the article author, I found Hume interesting and accessible. I still don't understand Nietzsche.