Be someone who brings the light. I'm tempted to think a purpose of the dark is to raise up light-bearers among us. It's a noble task to which we're called, one that gives benefit to many. We all steer through our lives by the glows of illumination sprinkled about us, some near and others far. If you have a lamp to light, spark its flame and hold it high.
Wisdom often finds itself out on a limb, doing and saying contrarian things. Love your enemies. Become like a little child. Most things aren't what they seem. Selfishness is self defeating. Pure giving is the best getting. Joy is at the bottom of the jar. Humility is the path to positive power. Vulnerability is strength. Stoop to rise. Serve to rule.
But everything great has its imitators and counterfeits. Publishers discovered years ago that confidently contrarian announcements got attention, sparked controversy, and could sell books by the millions. Whatever was common sense or received opinion was wrong, backwards, upside down. "We've always thought X; but a series of clever experiments recently proved Y instead, the very opposite of X. We've always been wrong! Buy this new book to see how."
Beware the charlatans, the con-men, the flim-flammers simply out to make a buck. They end up sawing off the limb they're sitting on. But real wisdom retains its perch. Wait. How then do we know the difference? Well, what lasts? What echoes through the centuries and when lived makes people better, deeper, and more loving? That's the test. But to apply it takes a measure of, well, you know: wisdom. And yet, only a dollop, a modicum, an open leaning forward with a modest discernment, and that will get you more. Guaranteed. And to learn more about this unexpected insight, buy my books. Just kidding.
The main character in a seventies movie once remarked in existential exasperation, "Don't you realize what a thread we're all hanging by?" The metaphor may change, but the reality is the same. We live on something like an edge at all times, near a precipice, whether we realize it or not. The wise are those who know exactly what the situation is, and where they are, and possess an inner calm about it, along with an agility of balance and correction to deal with anything that may come. Agitation never helps. Fear can be self defeating. A peace deep in the spirit is the sole fount and fulcrum from which good things may arise and even endure, despite the age of the thread or the bare breadth of the edge.
When you’re out in nature and in a philosophical mood, it’s amazing how many moral and spiritual lessons you can get if you pay attention. I like to go out in the morning now and then and drop down on my hands and knees in the backyard to weed. It strikes me that the stuff we don’t want in our yards and gardens grows quickly and profusely on its own, and with no help or encouragement from us. That’s a lot like our personal vices: irritation, irascibility, lust, greed, pride, envy, laziness, and any form of harmfully addictive tendencies, to name just a few. We don’t decide to cultivate them, plant them in our souls and work intentionally to nurture them. They’re the weeds of the soul.
So, if we want a nice landscape, we weed. It used to be that when I noticed a stray weed in a place I’d worked hard to clear earlier in the day, I got mildly frustrated. Now I just get busy. Weeds grow. The ones we don’t uproot today, we’ll pull tomorrow. You rarely get it all done at once. And I used to be overwhelmed seeing how many needed my attention in certain stretches of the back. Now I simply know my coming days will allow me to get out into nature again and do something needed, something that’s good. Plus, the exercise itself is its own thing, and beneficial.
It’s important for us to realize that the garden of our hearts, the landscape of our souls, needs similar attention and work. Every day, try to weed a little. And while you’re paying attention, also check on the good stuff. A little water here, some organic fertilizer there, and it’s heartening what a bit of care can accomplish. But there’s always work to do, which is not something to be regretted, or to sprout new weeds in your spirit, but to be embraced as a reality of why we’re here in the first place. The inner exercise itself keeps you sharp.
The Garden is vitally important in the Biblical narrative, and it’s an equally crucial metaphor in our own stories.
I woke up early this morning with these thoughts rolling through my head and had to write them down.
A Good Life. We all want to live a good life. But what does that mean? I suspect that at the core it’s fairly simple.
We all want a life in which we make our proper difference in the world and it makes its proper difference in us.
We seek the journey and result that our being here makes a positive impact for good, however small it may seem, since there is no such thing as small in the realm of the spirit.
We want to be and become with appropriate action, wonder, and most of all, love.
We hope to serve as a blessing to others wherever we are, and to the broader natural world.
And we want to grow into some version of our better or higher or even best self, in the circumstances given us and that we form throughout this adventure.
We may not have all the words for these things explicitly in our minds along the way, and we may not keep consistently on track, but this is what we are born to aspire to, and what's always hidden away in the bottom of our hearts. And all of this, seasoned with gratitude, hope, and compassion along the way, is, I think, a good life.
“You need to get out of your comfort zone!” “It’s important to get as far out of your comfort zone as you can!” “You gotta escape your comfort zone!” “You’ll never experience real success or happiness or fulfillment until you get far out of your current comfort zone!” “Everything great happens outside your comfort zone!”
Approximately 12,347 public speakers, business gurus, and motivational mavens have thundered this advice from more than 1,928,342 stages, podiums, and small carpeted areas at the front ends of hotel meeting rooms for the past 20 years. Books are written around this injunction. Podcasts reinforce it. Blogs repeat it. And they all make it sound like the most important and universal advice you can ever hear coming from the mind, or mouth, or preferred media of another human being, while somehow also implying that it’s something revolutionary and great that, after millennia of human history, they’ve finally managed to discover and are willing and eager to tell you at last, now that you’ve heard all the other “secrets” to success so often spoken and written about everywhere else, and yet have strangely found them not quite to work as advertised.
The idea is simple enough. We all have habits, routines, patterns, and surroundings that give us a sense of normalcy, or comfort in knowing what we’re doing, what’s likely to come, and how to function without too much worry or deliberation. We get in a groove. There’s a small circle of light in which we all enjoy a sense of assurance and the warm glow of the ordinary. And as we often likewise feel under toasty bedcovers on a cold morning, we want to stay where we are. The last thing we want to go is get out of that snuggly place of pleasantness. But of course, we have to in order to accomplish anything of importance, or greater value in the world. Yes, and that’s a metaphor for life. We have to get out of our ruts, our actually dangerous comfort zones, in order to live the adventure we’re here to experience and in which alone true value and delight are to be found. That’s the message we’re sold over and over.
But there’s a major flaw in this ubiquitous advice and in how it’s given. Maybe it’s even a fatal flaw. How are we supposed to escape these insidious comfort zones? Well, you know that too. How many times have you been told to “Face your fears!” “Confront your demons!” “Do the thing that worries you most!”
And yet. The greatest exhibitions of excellence and joy I’ve ever seen on basketball courts or football fields, in concert halls and artists’ studios, in college seminars, business meetings, and on any of those stages in all those convention centers and hotel ballrooms where we’ve all been roused to new levels of inspiration, it was always an individual or team operating in the magic of “flow” in which they weren’t anywhere outside their comfort zones at all, but had created a superior and special zone of comfort in being and doing the very best in their various fields of endeavor. Their performances happened precisely in the middle of the sweet spot of a well cultivated and exalted comfort zone. The best TV newscasters, sportscasters, and talk show hosts aren’t nervously “facing their fears” and going “way beyond their comfort zones” in doing their jobs with ease and peak excellence each day. When they’re in front of the cameras, they’re in the very middle of their comfort zones, and that’s why they make it look so easy, with their natural and casual seeming performances.
But, wait, you may think to yourself: Didn’t all these great people now operating at the peak of excellence, didn’t they have to leave previous comfort zones in order to get to the ones they now occupy, and maybe many times, and isn’t that why the motivational speakers are always accosting us with their endless advice to get up off our butts and go and do the same, now and forever?
Well. The advice can seem good, and perhaps important, but even when it seems needed and appears to work, I would like to suggest that the focus of it isn’t quite right. The most successful people in the world don’t get to their peak performance level by simply leaving comfort zones, but rather by learning to take their comfort zones with them wherever they go. The standard motivational speakers and business gurus seem to think of comfort zones as mostly an outer thing, as really all about our normal circumstances or situations where we feel at ease. But what if a comfort zone is really supposed to be an inner thing, an existential state or inward attitude arising from our souls or spirits, and so is something we can bring with us into new circumstances?
Many years ago, when I was trying to go to sleep in my hotel room in New York City without much success the night before I was to undergo my first interview live on national television, an idea suddenly occurred to me that changed everything, settled my unraveling nerves, and allowed me to drift into the needed slumber that alone would prepare me for the high anxiety situation that awaited me only hours to come.
I was to appear on “Live! With Regis and Kathy Lee” at the peak of the morning television show’s popularity, in August of 1994. I had met Regis a year and a half earlier, and was thrilled to be invited to his show to help launch my new book “True Success,” my first nonacademic foray into publishing a book of helpful public philosophy. It was going to be great. The publisher was thrilled and sent their top publicist to be with me backstage, a bright young woman whose husband had written a movie I had just seen and found to be a real delight, the Stanley Tucci film about a restaurant called “Big Night.” But I’m getting ahead of myself. The night before my guest slot, as those in the biz would call it, as I was worried and nervous and scared half to death about making a fool of myself in front of many millions of people, I suddenly said to myself, “Wait a minute. Regis is as comfortable every day there on his set at the ABC Studios as I am in my classroom at Notre Dame (where I was a professor at the time). Our session is just going to be part of a normal day for him. He’s not out of his mind nervous, worried, and scared about it. It’s his comfort zone. That’s why he’s so good at it. So, Ok, I’m going to borrow some of his comfort tomorrow. I’m going to pretend like it’s a normal day for me, too, just like a day in classes at Notre Dame. Regis is going to lend me some of that television comfort and I’m going to use it and feel it and enjoy it and just go and have fun like he does every single day on the show.” And that was miraculous, and worked beautifully. My emotions and attitudes were calmed like a Biblical storm, and I was at peace and even eager, not anxious or scared half out of my mind. And the show went great. And ever since, I’ve managed to carry my comfort zone with me wherever I’ve gone, even if I had to borrow part of it from someone else to make it my own.
Ultimately, it’s an inner thing. It’s an inner game. And just remember that those motivational speakers who are urging you so convincingly to leave your comfort zone are bellowing out their advice from right smack in the middle of their own comfort zone if they’re any good at all. They brought it with them to the speech. So do as they do, not as they say. Take your comfort zone with you wherever you do.
Or here's another metaphor: Expand your comfort zone. Stretch it. Make it bigger. Don't ever abandon it. Either metaphor works, but I like to carry stuff around, and I make sure my zone surrounds me at all times.
But, sure, early in the process of learning how to take it with you, you’ll slip up now and then and find you’ve left your comfort zone behind. And outside it, you may make some progress working through anxiety or facing fear. Good for you. But when you realize that your comfort zone can and should go with you inwardly wherever you go, it will be revolutionary, and freeing, and truly inspiring after all. And then you can be truly great.
Oh, and you know that comfort I borrowed from my friend Regis? I forgot to give it back. Yeah. I still take it with me wherever I go. In fact, I have more than I need, in case you'd like to borrow some. Help yourself.
Kindness. In a surprising cultural time of snark, derision, and callous cruelty among people, it becomes a powerful and healthy counter-cultural act to be kind. If you use social media for any time and watch the news nightly, you'd almost think kindness was a foreign language, or perhaps the hardest thing in the world. And it's the very opposite. It's built into our nature as one of the requirements for proper spiritual growth and inner fulfillment. When we show kindness to others, we certainly benefit them, as well as the general tenor of society, but the deeper reality is that we cultivate our own garden in a beautiful way. So I often ask myself: Why wouldn't everyone want to do this? Nasty benefits no one. Kindness is good for all.
Last night, I was in another great Morehead-Cain Zoom session with one of my MC cousins, this time George Hodgin, UNC Class of 09, who began his short chat by describing an experience he once had at 2 AM, 60 miles from the Pakistan border, hearing the crunch of gravel under his boots as he led a group through the dark for his first time as team leader. He was in his twenty-fifth year, a quarter of a century young, and for most of us what happened in the next seconds would have aged us through the rest of that century. His night vision goggles picked up a shape ahead, what turned out quickly to be a human shape that instantly turned and started spraying George and his men with automatic weapon fire. That was the challenging start of a mission of overwhelming success that ended with George getting his entire SEAL team back to base completely uninjured and ready for the next adventure.
After seven years as a SEAL, George decided to go to Stanford Business School. But the change at first was tough. As a SEAL he had experienced a daily sense of fulfillment from a clear purpose and with great camaraderie. That wasn’t all reproduced automatically in a business school setting. At first, he didn’t have a compelling, clear sense of purpose, or great partners in the challenge like the guys who had been on his team. He learned some important advice for anything we do. Last night he put it like this: “Find a partner to pick you up when you fall.” It’s Biblical, and it’s the principle used by Batman when he sheds the loner MO to take on a sidekick known to us as Robin.
"Two are better than one; because they have a good reward for their labor. For if they fall, one will lift up his fellow: but woe to him who is alone when he falls; for he does not have another to help him." (Ecclesiastes 4:9-12)
Speaking of the Dark Knight, in a masterful series on Batman entitled “Hush”, superstar writer Jeph Loeb quotes Aristotle: “Without friends, no one would choose to live, though he had all other goods.” Friends, colleagues, comrades, good partners: This may be the most commonly overlooked secret to success in anything we do. It’s no surprise to me that the oldest western war epic, The Iliad, is really about the power of partnership and what happens when it isn’t properly maintained. The Odyssey is then about the power of purpose and its importance to help us get through the greatest difficulties we face.
George’s favorite professor at Stanford one day wrote this on the board:
"Regret for what you have done can be tempered by time. Regret for what you haven't done is inconsolable."
It lit a fire. George needed a new sense of purpose and new partners, or at least a challenge from a friend. One of his SEAL pals was struggling with injuries and the opioids used to treat his pain. The man wanted to use the known properties of marijuana as a safer alternative, but there wasn’t any medically available. And doctors couldn't even do legal research on what might work. So my MC cousin quickly went on to succeed at Stanford Biz, a daunting task in itself, did a tremendous amount of research on the health relevant properties of marijuana, and has now taken on a new major challenge: to become the first federally approved legal provider of medical marijuana, nationwide. But federal agencies can be tougher than the Taliban. They’re uninterested. They drag their feet. They produce obstacles instead of solutions. But George says, “I have to be an optimist.” It turns out that SEALS don’t quit. No surprise there. And they’re opportunistic, always looking for the hidden doorway, or the covered path forward that others might not see. And I learned a few other things in our session.
There’s a common misconception that Navy SEALS are successful because they’re very good at doing enormously complex things. But George says the truth is rather that they do the basics best. I like the old football analogy. It’s not trick plays. It’s being the best at blocking, tackling, catching, and running. Be better than anyone else at the basics. That's the secret.
And you don’t have to go out on night patrol in Afghanistan to experience fear. There’s plenty of it readily available in our business lives, and in our personal affairs. George says the key is to manage it and your other emotions well. “You are not your emotions.” You are the person who can manage and control your emotions. But fear can be instructive. When you feel it, ask what’s causing it, exactly. It may be able to speak to you on a deep level about something you need to notice or address. Then act on it or move beyond it.
George points out that having pre-established procedures, like a checklist, is immensely helpful. When you’re doing combat scuba and you suddenly hear a boat above you that’s not supposed to be there and there's an instant visceral reaction that could get in your way, you need to fall back on procedures and checklists. Yeah, thanks George, I’ve had exactly the same experience. Just kidding. But we all have our own shocks and reactions of fear from things we didn’t expect. It always goes better if you have something to fall back on, some rehearsed way of responding, at least inwardly.
And even in a business meeting, the 4x4x4 rule can help with anxiety or stress. Breathe in for four seconds. Hold it for four. Breathe out for four. Use your breath to calm your heart and head and center yourself for the challenge.
I love this. George gave us one of his favorite analogies. We’re almost always juggling too many balls in the air. Just don’t drop the glass one.
Don’t drop what’s actually most important, dearest, and perhaps preciously fragile, in your pursuit of any success. Know which balls can be dropped, which will bounce and be fine, and which must be protected most of all. In a great zoom session today with bankers, I mentioned this advice and mused that for most of us, those glass balls may be faith, family, or friends, perhaps proper self care, and likely our basic integrity.
George Hodgin is like Steve Jobs in taking on big challenges, problems that are as big as his heart and head, his spirit, and his talents. And he’s learned the joy of the journey. It’s not the mission accomplished that brings the delight, but the deed well done in the doing.
And I could go on. Lots. But it’s fifteen hundred hours and by the ROE, I’ve got to pull chocks right now and get outa here. The only easy day was yesterday. Hooyah.
Courage has nothing to do with a lack of fear. It's all about how we react to the fear, worry, or anxiety that we naturally feel in the face of any danger, including the unknowns of radical uncertainty. Do we feed the fires of fear, do we allow anxiety to grow insidiously and uninhibitedly, or do we act inwardly to redirect our emotions, attitudes, and actions in more positive directions? Courage means first and foremost doing what's morally right for both you and others around you. It means prioritizing our values properly, giving up what's not necessary, and protecting what's most valuable.
Every one of us capable of extended thought is by nature a philosopher, whether we realize that or not. Every one of us has a basic worldview, however well or badly developed. The only question that remains is whether we'll be good philosophers or bad ones, which is to say, whether we'll live from the resources of a powerful and productive worldview, or a poor one. We all need a good philosophy of life, or a basic worldview that will allow us to respond wisely to the ups and downs of life with a measure of inner peace and calm. Anything positive that you think anxiety may help you to achieve can be had without its intervention, as a gift from wisdom alone, without the worry.
In our unusual time, we have the need and so the opportunity to examine our personal philosophies of life and ask whether they're up to the challenge we clearly face now, and that we could well encounter in different forms in future years. The courage to engage in self examination, to seek new self knowledge, and to work toward developing a robust philosophy of life that can give good guidance and inner peace will repay us in benefits for as long as we live, and perhaps even beyond those bounds.
Note: These issues are addressed more deeply and I hope helpfully in my Egyptian novels and in the new book Plato's Lemonade Stand, in case you want to explore them more fully. Just visit TomVMorris.com and click around.
I hope I get all the details right. So. One of the best people I've ever known had a very bad heart attack on SuperBowl Sunday. We first heard of it, and that, as a result of it, our friend and former pastor whom for present purposes we'll call Bob, since everyone does anyway, was then "on ice" and in a coma in intensive care in Raleigh, and that we should all pray for him. It sounded like the sort of story that would not normally end well, from a worldly point of view. But Bob had moved from the beach to Raleigh to lead a church there, and the area happens to have what may be the best cardiac care in the state (which is impressive, considering the facilities at UNC, Duke, and Wake Forest, as well as here in Wilmington and elsewhere). Updates trickled in that he seemed stable. Then news came that he was making small bits of progress, but would need a triple bypass surgery if he could ever regain sufficient strength and functioning, which he then quickly did within days rather than the hoped for weeks, and had the surgery successfully, and was then said by the medical staff on site to have had a truly "miraculous" recovery.
I was having breakfast with two friends yesterday and mentioned what looked like the providential care of Bob, if just in the fact of his location when the heart attack happened, and then I heard the story behind the story. You know the old real estate adage: Location, location, location. And the spot of the attack was vastly more significant than I had known, or could even have imagined. Bob was picking up his dry cleaning right before a planned two hour or more trip alone on the highway. And he suddenly had trouble trying to pull away from the drive through window. A guy in the car behind him noticed something strange in the movements of his car, which had now come to a full stop. The stranger put his own car in park, got out, walked up to the driver's side window of Bob's car, and saw our friend slumped over the steering wheel. The door was locked, so the man broke out the car window, determined Bob's condition, went back to his own car, pulled out a portable defibrillator that he happened to have with him (And really, who doesn't, on an average trip to the dry cleaner?), got Bob's seat reclined, shocked him back to a heartbeat, and waited for the EMTs he had already summoned to arrive.
If your heart stops beating, you don't have very many minutes to survive the event. If you're alone on the side of the interstate in your car, a thousand other cars and trucks may pass you by before someone, at some point, thinks to stop, and then of course it will likely be too late, especially when you factor in the initial caution of anyone approaching an occupied car in the middle of nowhere, and then the eventual emergency call and the likely long wait to get professional help. There aren't even that many busy public places that would be ideal for a heart attack, if you were to have one, in terms of available people nearby who would have a clue what to do to help other than dial 9-1-1 and hope that emergency assistance arrives soon enough.
But there's my man Bob, who decided to go to the dry cleaner before hitting the highway, where otherwise his episode most likely would have occurred. And he happens to be in a parking lot RIGHT IN FRONT OF the ONE GUY in the state who happens to have a defib machine in his car, who of course had himself earlier decided to go to the SAME dry cleaner at precisely the time he'd be needed—not three minutes earlier or ten minutes later. He doesn't just honk his horn at the aberrant driver or merely pull around him. He goes to look, and BREAKS A WINDOW and gets down to business. And then of course, later, when they learned the details of what had happened, NO ONE KNEW who the mystery man was or how he disappeared into the traffic of Raleigh after tucking in his superhero cape and giving a pat to his favorite machine. Of course, the cumulative magnitude of intrinsic probabilities that this would all work out as it happened would be absurdly small to the vanishing point. Which makes it look like someone was looking out for Bob. And who knows, maybe you and me, too, despite how things sometimes might seem.
It's almost as if things are going on behind the scenes, between the lines, and hidden from normal view, perhaps all the time, which is a major theme that runs through my Egyptian novels, and is something that continues to impress me and deepen my own worldview. There are odd wrinkles in the affairs of this world that not even the best dry cleaner can press away. They're worth our attention as, perhaps beautifully revealing as to the ultimate fabric of reality.
Wow. I just finished reading Edith Wharton's classic The House of Mirth. It follows a young woman, Lily Bart, through her energetic and often successful efforts to ensconce herself well within the most elevated echelons of high society in New York at around the turn of the previous century. The insights of the story about success, happiness, wealth, reputation, and status are deep and lasting. It's an incredible book. And, what an ending! But no spoilers here are to be feared. The main lesson I took away from it is how common and awful and damaging cowardice is in human life.
Many of us have times when we refrain from speaking up as needed, or doing the right thing, the hard thing, and the best thing, out of cowardice. But it's often terribly hard to admit that, and why? Again, cowardice. It's a quality that hides itself with itself. The word has such a demeaning negative connotation that no one wants to use it of themselves, even to themselves. But sometimes, the first spark of courage is the frank recognition of cowardice.
When I've been courageous, most often great things have ensued. When I've been ... the other thing ... events have not tended to go so propitiously. And that's just a way of saying that the fears ingredient in cowardice tend to be self defeating in their unintended consequences, a matter which is both ironic and noteworthy.
Cowardice is just the momentary state of being overcome by the feared consequences of an action that we believe to be right, or demanded of us. The problems with it go even beyond its self undermining tendencies. First, it typically depends on an overheated imagination, an inner mental vision of consequences that's often very wrong in its projections, either about what would happen if we did the brave thing, or about how we'd make it through those troubles that we envision as following from it.
Second, individual instances of cowardice, moments of failure in this regard, tend to create a habit of allowing its fear nature to hold us back. And with a strong enough habit, you have a disposition or an ongoing character trait that you don't want to have. No one seeks to be a coward.
The morally preferable alternative of courage isn't about doing dangerous things, or living on the edge. It's only about being able to do what's right, even when it's challenging or difficult, or when it may have some personally unpleasant consequences. Courage is guided by higher values. Cowardice is never the path to happiness or success. Courage often is. And that's a deep lesson in many works of illuminating fiction, including The House of Mirth.
“I vant to drink your blood.” No, that’s not in the famous Bram Stoker book Dracula, nor is it necessarily the subtext of a certain contemporary individual’s political rallies that, nonetheless, do feature the color red. If you haven’t ever read Dracula, you’ve missed out on a great experience. It’s an extremely well done story, and it’s not even very explicit or gory, at least to a modern sensibility. It’s just an engaging suspense story.
I’ve come to think of classic literary monster tales as great metaphors for the most difficult challenges we face. You can find deep insight in Beowulf, in how he pursues and takes on the monsters, and in Mary Shelley’s great novel Frankenstein, in how the title character creates one.
In all these stories, in one way or another, we learn about the power of partnership and collaboration. That would be my main takeaway from the account of Count Dracula, who represents a great evil that can’t be defeated by any one person working alone, but can be confronted most effectively by a team of likeminded people in partnership. for a shared purpose. Interestingly, that was Aristotle’s account of what it takes for the greatest human goods. And the morals of the story for us are simple. Be willing to face any challenge. Don’t go it alone. Gather support from people you trust. Then, no matter how daunting the odds, you stand your best chance of success. I recently reported throughout social media on my reading this week of The Three Musketeers, Alexander Dumas’ wonderful romp amid swordsmen of seventeenth century France. The same lessons came through it as well, loud and clear.
Dracula is cleverly written as entries from various characters’ journals and letters and telegrams. But it’s so well done as to read smoothly and without any confusion. You sample various points of view in a way that enhances the drama and suspense.
My favorite actual quote may be: “As I came along the corridor I saw Mr. Morris looking out of a window.” (248)
Other notable reminders:
“We learn from failure, not success!” (129)
“Oh, friend John, it is a strange world, a sad world, a world full of miseries, and woes, and troubles,; and yet when King Laugh come, he makes them all dance to the tune he play.” (188)
Here was my own pet lunatic—the most pronounced of his type that I had ever met with—talking elemental philosophy, and with the manner of a polished gentleman. (251)
“He is finite, though he is powerful to do much harm and suffers not as we do. But we are strong, each in our purpose; and we are all more strong together.” (337-338)
It is really wonderful how much resilience there is in human nature. (344)
“Friend John, to you with so much of experience already—and you too, dear Madam Mina, that are young—here is a lesson: do not ever fear to think.” (364)
And, too, it made me think of the wonderful power of money! What can it not do when it is properly applied; and what might it do when basely used! (381)
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Decently smart people can do indecently stupid things. An intelligent and attractive young man from a country town near Paris moves to the city to find wealth, fame, and love. But it never seems to occur to him that he might have to do or be something of merit in order to deserve any of these things.
Frederic Moreau becomes a clever manipulator of others to further his own aims, and demonstrates what a life is like with no inner core or reliable sense of what’s right. He’s fickle, undependable, and greedy. He falls in love with a married woman more than once and finds himself living parallel secret lives with his various lady friends, all in his efforts to advance his own interests in fortune and status. Revolutionary events begin to swirl around him and it’s never certain who can be trusted. Ambition drives everyone else in his circles as much as it does him. Lust and despair alternate in his life, causing giddiness one minute, and grim hopelessness the next. When he does come into money, he wastes it on showy extravagances to impress those around him as he seeks to heal an inner need that can never be satisfied in such a way.
At the end of the story, he sits with his one remaining friend, the companion of his youth who had become a lawyer in order to prevail in politics, and they reflect on their lives.
<<They'd both been failures, the one who'd dreamed of Love and the one who'd dreamed of Power. How had it come about?
"Perhaps it was lack of perseverance?" said Frederic.
"For you maybe. For me, it was the other way round, I was too rigid, I didn't take into account a hundred and one smaller things that are more crucial than all the rest. I was too logical and you were too sentimental."
Then they blamed it on their bad luck, the circumstances, the times in which they'd been born.>> (462)
Frederic never came to realize the inner man he had neglected to his own great detriment. He never understood the role of character or true commitment in life or love. And in that blind spot, he prefigures many in our own time.
Looking back over the past 30 years as a public speaker, I've enjoyed every audience for its own distinctive merits. I love the small groups for the intense intimacy and give and take. I love the medium sized groups of a few hundred for the ways in which the chemistry in the room works. I love the bigger groups of 2,000-5,000-10,000 for their immense emotional waves of resonance and the sense of helping so many focus at once on things that matter. One idea in 10,000 minds at one moment, in the same room, is an amazing experience. Here's a photo I just found. I have no idea who it is. But it's the sort of room that I would always view in advance, to anticipate the challenge, opportunity, and energy on tap. Before getting on the stage, I'd silently pray for every person, and then go philosophize with them. My goal has always been to plant seeds that would begin to germinate right away, and produce unexpectedly great fruit for years to come.
So, whenever I’m in someone else’s audience, I try to make myself good soil for the great seeds that they may seek to plant. And if I experience with them the joy, I try to contact them with appreciation and perhaps a story. Teachers should be lifelong learners. And philosophers always welcome partners. Thanks to any of you who have shared the experience of ideas with me. And if you haven’t, yet ever want to, I’d warmly welcome your thoughts! We are greater together than we are apart.
I was googling something about top public speakers today, focusing on various popular keynote speakers (my competition), and came across a Google question on my screen that gave me pause:
<<What are the best small speakers?>>
I thought, "Really? That's a thing?" I had instant visions of little people on stages all over America. I remembered one five year old boy in the news years ago who was a fiery gospel preacher.
Then I suddenly realized I had transitioned into the audio/stereo section of Google Results. Oh, Ok. Speakers. Yeah, I see. Klipsch. JBL. Sony.
And of course, this happens all the time in business and life. We hear something different from what was intended and then we keep running down that path without checking to make sure we heard it right or interpreted it as it was intended. Natural languages are useful tools, and are among the most useful we have. But we have to be aware of how we're using our words, and of how others might be using theirs. Context can be misleading. Perhaps even the smallest of speakers would urge caution as another useful tool.
In 1975, my next door neighbor Paul was a very famous architect, a graduate of Harvard, the University of Berlin, and the Bauhaus. He was in his 70s and an avid skier. He was a handsome man in great shape and with a lively mind. I had seen his homes in books of modern architecture.
I would go visit him frequently. He asked to borrow my books about Wittgenstein. We loved to sit and talk philosophy and modern design. I liked to play on his tennis court. My wife and I took care of his chickens when he and his young Chinese wife traveled. They lived in an old New England farmhouse that had been added onto time after time. It was an architectural mess. He was an architectural marvel. And he was my favorite unofficial mentor.
But then we had to move out of the one bedroom "mother in law" apartment in the big house where we lived outside New Haven. The husband of the family owning the home had disappeared for a year, only to show up one day in a crazy disguise. I didn't recognize him at all, but his kids yelled out "Daddy!" Weeks later, men in dark suits and Ford LTDs arrived to take boxes of things out of his part of the home. And soon, we had to move a mile away.
I later heard that Paul had been diagnosed with cancer. I tried to figure out what to say to him before I visited. I couldn't come up with anything. I was afraid to visit without good words for him. I thought I had to have answers. I postponed seeing him. I procrastinated. I was busy. I was in graduate school at Yale. I thought of him often, and put off what I thought would be a very awkward visit to a man who had been so full of life. Then someone told me he had died. Waiting for words was one of the worst mistakes I had ever made.
Don't wait for words. Don't wait for answers. Go to people in need and just show you care, words or not. People need love more than answers. People need you.
Sorry, Paul. I was an idiot. Actually, I was a coward. But I didn't understand that at all. I do now. And I've developed a little more courage, the essential courage to just go forth and be. I don’t have to have all the answers. But I do have this one. And now, all these years later. I have the courage to admit my weakness and to say thanks for the lesson. I still love you, man. I finally realize what it takes to show that to others.
Synchronicity: Just the right thing at the right time.
We often mean by this something like the sudden and meaningful intersection of otherwise apparently unrelated causal streams of events to provide needed help or insight at an important time. A God wink, some say. It could be a small thing or a big one. It could be encouraging or revelatory or both. It could help you along the way, or stop you right before the brink of a cliff. It might lead you to a new path, or keep you on the one you've been walking, despite a time of adversity and pain.
Meaningful coincidences. Do you have any of these in your life story? Have you ever experienced synchronicity, where the right thing happens improbably at just the right time? Or do you experience such things a lot?
I'm starting to think about this more. Let me know if you have this phenomenon in your life.
The most important distinction in this world isn't between success and failure, but effort and inertia. Forward movement counts. Destinations can change as we learn and grow. But growth requires movement. And that depends on effort. So rev it up and go.
Subtitle: The Heroic Hester Prynne
Have you ever read Nathaniel Hawthorne's 1850 novel, The Scarlet Letter? Some of us may have read it in school, before we were prepared to squeeze all the wisdom like a great juice out of it.
I just read it anew, and was amazed. I had just enjoyed Hawthorne's other well known story, The House of the Seven Gables, a couple of weeks ago, and I have to admit that I didn't look forward to The Scarlet Letter, fearing a bit that it would be a dull moralistic tale. But I was so very wrong. Hawthorne is a keen observer of human nature, and a real philosopher.
The book dives deep into such issues as morality and hypocrisy, shame and courage, vengeance and forgiveness, self identity and redemption, and does so in ways that relate to each of us now, in our own time and lives. Hester Prynne, publicly shamed sinner, ends up being the hero of the story, displaying great inner strength and our deep ability to do good for others, despite how they might despise us in return. Our own alchemy can then in the end work surprising transformations in the lives of those others. Mistakes can be woven into the cloth of success for ourselves and others.
It's a great, great book. Some random quotes.
Human nature will not flourish, any more than a potato, if it be planted and replanted, for too long a series of generations, in the same worn-out soil. (14)
Mighty was their fuss about little matters, and marvellous, sometimes, the obtuseness that allowed greater ones to slip between their fingers! (16)
It is a good lesson—though it may often be a hard one—for a man who has dreamed of literary fame, and of making for himself a rank among the world’s dignitaries by such means, to step aside out of the narrow circle in which his claims are recognized and to find how utterly devoid of significance, beyond that circle, is all that he achieves, and all he aims at. (25)
The page of life that was spread out before me seemed dull and commonplace only because I had not fathomed its deeper import. (34)
When an uninstructed multitude attempts to see with its eyes, it is exceedingly apt to be deceived. (110)
It is the unspeakable misery of a life so false as his, that it steals the pith and substance out of whatever realities there are around us, and which were meant by Heaven to be the spirit’s joy and nutriment. To the untrue man, the whole universe is false,—it is impalpable,—it shrinks to nothing within his grasp. And he himself, in so far as he shows himself in a false light, becomes a shadow, or, indeed, ceases to exist. (128)
"Then I consented to a deception. But a lie is never good, even though death threaten on the other side!" (169)
And, as Hester Prynne had no selfish ends, nor lived in any measure for her own profit and enjoyment, people brought all their sorrows and perplexities, and besought her counsel, as one who had herself gone through a mighty trouble. (227)
My page numbers are from the Barnes and Noble edition, but for an easily accessible edition, click HERE.
Sometimes, we fail through no fault of our own. We try something and it doesn’t go as planned. It may be the overall economic environment, or local conditions. Or it could be that the enterprise is undermined by someone with money and connections whose plans are contrary to our own.
This is the aspect of our common condition explored in the delightful little novel, The Bookshop, written by Penelope Fitzgerald, a British lady who first published, I believe, at the age of 60 and went on to win several awards for her short books, including the prestigious Booker Prize and the National Book Critics Circle Award.
I happened across this gem at Costco, where I was loitering after the purchase of three forty-two pound bags of kitty litter and pondering the wisdom of trying a $7.99 bottle of Kirkland Bordeaux with a beautiful black label. I got the book instead. It was more pleasant that I reasonably could have expected with the Bordeaux.
It’s about a lady who opens a book store in a damp old haunted house in a small town on the coast of England, a place that hasn’t had a bookshop before.
I offer here some nearly random free samples, which you won’t get with the Bordeaux, although, there were some tiny sausages being cooked up and offered for tasting in another part of the store. Our lady referred to below is a Ms. Florence Green.
She drank some of the champagne, and the smaller worries of the day seemed to stream upwards as tiny pinpricks through the golden mouthfuls and to break harmlessly and vanish. (20)
Will power is useless without a sense of direction. (37)
Back in the shadows went the Stickers, largely philosophy and poetry, which she had little hope of ever seeing the last of. (43)
He might be grievously disappointed, possibly after a lifetime of disappointments. (92)
“Understanding makes the mind lazy.” (101)
She looked with shame at the rows of patiently waiting unsold books. “You’re working too hard, Florence,” Milo said.
“I try to concentrate—Put those down, they’ve only just come in and I haven’t checked them. Surely you have to succeed, if you give everything you’ve got.”
“I can’t see why. Everyone has to give everything they have eventually. They have to die. Dying can’t be called a success.” (133)
For the book, CLICK HERE. And enjoy. Cheers.
