The Past and Future You

There's a Biblical story about Lot's wife that you likely know. She's supposed to be leaving the past behind, but looks back and is turned to stone, or a stone-like pillar of solidified salt. There is a way in which our inability to let go of the past hardens us in the present and makes any real dynamic movement into the future impossible. We're no longer limber and resilient or able to grow and adapt.

It's always been puzzling to me that we identify the Biblical character not by her proper name but by the phrase 'Lot's wife.' Her very identity is in her circumstances, in her external relations. And that's itself a warning. We are not ever just where we've been or what we've experienced, who we've known, or what we've done. There is a core identity that is intended to be open to the new, spiritually transformable by the alchemy at work in the world at all times and that we can use to form our souls anew as we move forward into our best possibilities. I suspect those guys on Easter Island were also too caught up in pondering the past, nostalgically looking back. And there they are, stuck in that past. Don't be like them. Focus forward. And go forth anew.

Og and Moog: A Thought Experiment

Og and Moog. Travel with me back many thousands of years to early humans, or their ancestors. Imagine two of them, hunter gatherers Og and Moog, walking around hungry and seeing some wheat blowing in the breeze in a clearing they've come across. Imagine this is a day before anyone has ever thought of baking anything, except maybe wild boar on an open fire. Og stops and stares and has a creative moment, saying, and I translate here from cave man talk, "You know, some of that would make a nice loaf of bread." Moog replies, "Loof! Loof!" Then a cow walks by and Og says, "Yeah, a hot loaf smeared with ... butter." And Moog just looks at him, puzzled. My point of course is a simple one. We need in our time to be able to do the equivalent of looking at wheat grains and seeing for the first time bread, or at a cow and envisioning butter. It's much more than seeing an oak in an acorn, by a big leap. It involves the mystery of our own alchemy, the transformative creativity, the ability to make beyond what anyone else has ever imagined, that's sleeping deep in our souls most of the time. We need to awaken it in our day, more of us than ever before, and see the world around us not just as it is, but as it could be. And then get to work baking the bread we need. We need to be like Og. Amen?

The Lessons of Socrates and Christmas

Socrates called philosophy a preparation for death. I guess he never heard of estate planning. Philosophy in my view is a preparation for life—a full and good life. For death, it gives us very little solid guidance. For life, it offers a lot.

And yet then, perhaps the wise and good life it prescribes is in itself also the best preparation for death, or the final ending of this life. So, in a sense, the old boy was right. But then, I think I am too. And he left out the middle part, which is not to be ignored. But then again, our Christmas and Easter stories imply that even the finest intellectual guidance or theoretical preparation for life or death is never enough. Inner transformation is required of us. We come into the world like unmolded clay. We need first to be formed, and then transformed. And while that never comes from philosophy, it can be mediated through it. Perhaps that was the one more thing Socrates would have told us if he had not been required to drink the particular spiked punch that ended his time here. But don't worry about him. He was prepared.

Happy Christmas. May the joys and lessons of the season infuse the new year for you and yours.

We Don't Always Know What We Need

Ok, Homer once more. When The Odyssey opens, King Odysseus has been away from home for nearly twenty years. For ten, he fought at Troy. For the remaining time, he’s been trying to get home. His wife Penelope is besieged by suitors, all the young men of the region, princes and kings, who admire her beauty and want to marry her. They’re constantly trying to convince her that her husband is dead and so she should move on. She has done everything she can to delay the day when, for the sake of her son, she should indeed remarry and move out with a new husband, allowing her son to have the palace, grounds, and crops and herds he is to inherit. The suitors are crowding into the house every day, feasting constantly, and eating up a lot of the boy’s inheritance.

Telemachus, the son of Odysseus, is of course now twenty years old. He has the genetic endowment of his heroic father and smart, beautiful, and resourceful mother, but he has grown up without his father’s influence and, instead, surrounded by anxiety as to the welfare of Odysseus, and then the grief of all who loved him that he might indeed be dead.

Telemachus is in despair that the suitors constantly harass his mother and blatantly consume the family’s resources on a massive scale, day after day. And he is not yet old enough, strong enough, or bold enough to do anything about it. He feels helpless, and despondent that no one knows for sure whether his father is dead or alive. But at this point, he and his mother have emotionally had to accept the worst and assume that he’s gone and never coming home.

Early on in the story, there’s a puzzle. The Goddess Athena, a great friend to Odysseus, comes to Ithaca and the family home of Penelope and Telemachus disguised as an old friend. She greets Telemachus and speaks with him. She tells him that his father is alive somewhere out there in the world, but he doesn’t believe her. As a top goddess, she has the power to make him accept her words, but she doesn’t. She doesn’t put him into a hypnotic state to elicit assent, or do any of the other things she could have done to change his mind, which she thinks is important to do. And this is puzzling. Instead, she suggests that he go on a voyage, a quest to learn if anyone has word of his father, as to whether he’s still living or may have perished in his efforts to get home. She urges him to visit King Nestor and Menelaus, old friends of Odysseus who fought with him at Troy.

Now the problem, the conundrum for the careful reader who may have learned from the Iliad and other mythology what Athena was capable of, is why she didn’t just change the boy’s beliefs on the spot, so that he would have the hope of awaiting his father, and the courage to do what might be necessary to prepare for his arrival home to end the scourge of the suitors. Why didn’t she just implant in his brain the crucial information he needed to accept?

And the answer is as simple as it is revelatory. Athena knew that what Telemachus most needed was not just information but transformation. She had to send him on a quest that would grow his sense of self, his self knowledge, and the self esteem that would be required for the courage he would need in the coming days. It would be hard, and risky, but it was also necessary.

And that’s a lesson for all of us. In a summer seminar for school teachers long ago on meaning in life, one of the participants actually became angry because he thought, a week or two into the seminar, that I was playing a game and withholding a crucial piece of information, a sentence or statement that, if I would just share it with the group, would clarify his questions about the meaning of life. He had been left by his young wife, with nothing more than a goodbye note on the table when he got home from work, a day before he was to come to my seminar. He was in a tailspin. He wanted information.

But I, like Homer, and like Jesus, understood that there are matters where what’s needed isn’t propositional information but personal transformation. And before those deep changes, it may not even be possible to know what we most want to know. In the story, it turns out that Athena was right. Telemachus goes on his adventure and returns changed and ready, even though he’s not aware of how ready he is until Odysseus shows up and they join together to do what needs to be done.

Oh. And the student. I went to his dorm room and sat with him for two hours, listening at first to a tirade, and then a dirge, and then I worked hard to explain to him the limited role of propositional knowledge in wisdom and existential understanding, and how we need to be formed in order to see certain things and be certain things, and how it's our struggles and sorrows that deepen us the most. And in the end, he understood. He and I, like Telemachus and his dad, were able together to slay the philosophical suitors who had besieged the home of his heart.

Mistakes and Transformations

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.

The Piano Tuner

Adventure. The new. The unknown. Courage. Discovery. Personal Transformation. What people seem to be and what they truly are. These are some of the unexpected themes in a wondrous book I just discovered and read, called The Piano Tuner and written by Daniel Mason, published by Knopf in 2002.

The story takes place in the 1880s. The British are fighting to subdue Burma. A brilliant surgeon takes up residence in a remote fort, a small beautiful village, really, far from civilization, and seems to have uncanny success in bringing peace to the area of warring tribes. He leverages his success to request that the government send him an Erard piano, which is shipped and carried to him against all odds. But a piano in the jungle will have problems. So he asks for a piano tuner from London to come repair it. Thus our story begins.

What was supposed to be a three month trip from London to upper Burma solely for the purpose of fixing and tuning a rare piano turns into so much more than a brief writeup could even hint at. It’s a remarkable book on the human spirit, music, beauty, and the uncertain journeys of life.

Do yourself a favor: Grab it! Read it!

For the book on Amazon, click HERE.

Alec Baldwin on Redemption

I don't read many show biz books. But on occasion, they can tell great stories about people's struggles, failures, and successes, both in their work and in their lives.

In his new memoir, Nevertheless, actor Alec Baldwin tells a fascinating story that begins with his parents raising six kids in a small two bedroom house with almost no money for anything. His life prospects didn't look rosy. But I won't go into the interesting details. He has certainly had his ups and downs as a public figure and as a human being. And he's able to write about these things with an unexpected measure of self reflection and honesty. I found that the book was well worth my time, and it may be worth yours. It may even spark insights into the life of someone you know.

I'm bringing the book to your attention today mainly because of two passages I'd like to quote. Baldwin is speaking in general. But he's also reflecting on his own trajectory in ways that apply to things we all face. Here's the first:

I love second chances. I love the concept of renewal. I love to see people come back from some adversity, self-inflicted or not, and untangle themselves from a difficult situation. They may correct some perceived mistake they've made. Make amends, if you will. Consequently, they prove to themselves and to others what they're capable of, what they're made of. You can call it redemption, or choose another word, but most important, they find some real degree of peace, even happiness. (page 245)

Now the second and related passage:

I believe that things change only when we are truly ready for the change. We come to a situation or event that could be a great turning point in our lives having been prepared by both adversity and hope. And then, if you let it, the future just opens like a flower, becoming more beautiful every day. (page 209)

These are wise words, and sentiments that we can all embrace. We have our ups and downs in this world. We make mistakes, and sometimes big ones. And then, we most often have a choice about what to do with what we've learned. The alchemy of wisdom can allow us a great gift of transformation and renewal at any stage of the adventure. We should keep this in mind for those around us we see stumble, and for ourselves when we're at our lowest points. Change can happen, and as a result, the future may just open like a flower from here on out.

Resurrection: The Insight of Easter.

Resurrection. It's about radical transformation and new life. It's about disaster and even death as the doorways for redemption. It's about apparent failure and ultimate success. It's about vivid appearances and unsuspected realities. It's about having these treasures in earthen vessels.

The original disciples, our predecessors and paradigms of faith, abandon the one in whom they had hoped, and give up their aims in despondency—they flee the path and the project, in a failure of both understanding and courage, and thereby provide an example for all of us unfaithful, weak, panicked souls that we need not be shamed by our lack of sturdy steadfastness, but rather inspired that strength can come of weakness, that honor can come of humility, and that the plan for all things is a massive, wonderful turnaround.

In the darkest of times, the light still shines. Happy Easter.

Redemption

I'd never read Truman Capote. It's hard to have grown up in the twentieth century and not have come across and read anything by him. But just the other day I picked up the Modern Classics book, A Christmas Memory, One Christmas, and The Thanksgiving Visitor, largely because I noticed it on a shelf in my house. He was an amazing writer.

In the story about Thanksgiving, the narrator is an eight year old boy who has been relentlessly and cruelly bulled by a twelve year old boy in his class, a young man who has failed grades, and comes from a background of failure. Our narrator, Buddy, lives with some older relatives, several sisters and a brother, in Alabama, and is closest with a lady in her sixties, Miss Sook, he calls her, who is in many ways like a child. Her simplicity causes her to favor the company of young children. But it also helps her to see deep truths that normal people would miss. This comes across in all three stories, and struck me deeply as I read.

Because of an act of kindness she does for Buddy's tormentor, the sort of favor he's never received from anyone, apparently, he changes. He becomes a better person, in contradiction to all his previous behavior. The story reminds us that almost anyone can be redeemed, or transformed. But it rarely happens apart from an act of love and kindness.

We tend to think in the opposite way, that bad people deserve bad consequences. But sometimes, a small act of acceptance, and respect, and care, can change a heart. The author Truman Capote suffered much in his life. And because of that, he has some lessons to pass on to the rest of us. Redemption is possible. Change can happen. But if it's radical enough, it has to be helped along by acts of love, which themselves are radical enough to make it happen.

Our lesson is simple. It's important to be able to rise above things, and even act in love toward someone who seems not to deserve it. That way, you just might help make something radically good happen.

A Celebration of Transformation

Easter is a distinctive holiday. It's a celebration of transformation - from death to life, mortal to immortal, defeat to victory, illusion to truth. It's about the most powerful force in or beyond the universe displaying an undying concern for the worth of each person. It's about redemption, second chances, and the triumph of love in the end.

It's also, of course, a holiday and a message surrounded by controversies of all sorts - what are the historical arguments for resurrection, or the philosophical possibilities of such a unique and fundamentally revelatory event? And what about all the organizational, political, ethical, and social issues that swirl around the diverse community of people who are celebrating this day?

As a philosopher, I like to avoid distractions when a big issue is at stake. So I'd recommend a few minutes today of meditating on the core issues of transformation and the potential power of love in our lives, in everything we do. A holiday such as this can easily be lost in its trappings. Or it can act as an aperture to allow us to view things differently. And this one, in particular, gives us all an opportunity to think deeply and arise with new insight, boldness, and compassion for our fellow creatures.

We're ultimately not here to be overcome, but to overcome with creative love.

Happy Easter.

Transformation

One of the most enduring themes in world literature is transformation. The great commonality among the otherwise very different religions across the globe is the possibility of transformation. And in business, there's nothing more important than the promise of this very thing.

Transformation is all about where we are now, where we ideally need to be, and how best to get from this present to that future.

In the world of work, transformation is about turning potentiality into actuality, a need into a business, raw materials into products, people into performers, potential customers into loyal fans and investments into profits.

In life, our weaknesses can be transformed into strengths, our limitations can be morphed into the outlines of our distinctive excellence, and our mistakes can be redeemed into new wisdom.

The nearly magical spark of all positive transformations is a vision that can turn regular men and women into heroes, despite all the challenges and setbacks they might face. The right vision creates the right energy in the right people to produce the right results.

The greatest wonder in our world is the ongoing possibility for transformation that it allows.

When we understand deeply where we are, envision clearly where we could be, and create boldly a path forward that will spark the best in those around us, as well as in our own hearts, we provide the leadership necessary for great transformations.

Our Desires and the World

"Human beings are works in progress that mistakenly think they're finished." - Daniel Gilbert.

It's often been said that there are two big-scale strategies for living:

1. Seek to conform the world to your desires.

2. Seek to conform your desires to the world.

The idea behind the choice is that unhappiness resides in a gap between our desires and the way things are in the world around us. If we can eliminate the gap, theorists reason, unhappiness will vanish with it. And, obviously, the two strategies outlined in such stark simplicity are two ways of effecting that elimination.

But. of course, this, like many things that are often said, is just wrong. It presumes that our desires are either perfectly Ok as they are, at any given time, and should be imposed on the world around us, or that they are always wrong, in some sense, and in need of replacement by alternatives that reflect the way things already are. The truth is more balanced and more liberating than either alternative would suggest.

At any given time, for the vast majority of us, some of our desires are altogether proper, and some aren't. Of the latter, some aren't realistic regarding what's possible, others are not right for who we are, and still others are just, in some other sense, wrong ill-formed, or ill-advised. There's an old motivational adage, "If you can dream it, you can do it." But this saying, on top of its magical thinking, brackets the question of whether a particular dream should be ushered into reality.

Harvard psychologist Dan Gilbert had it right. We're all works in progress. That means that we can and should change. But so should the world around us. We're all in a state of becoming. And so is the world. We're here to learn and to make, to grow and to influence. Some of our desires should be the basis for goals, and for changing the world around us. Some of them should be merely the basis for new levels of self knowledge, and then should be set aside as we grow and mature and become more perceptive.

The potter molds the clay. The clay molds the potter. The former is quick and clear. The latter is slow and subtle.

We properly seek to conform the world to some of our desires. And we properly seek to conform other desires to what we learn from the world. Then, we also rightly develop new desires and insightful aspirations that will transform us within, and perhaps, in that way, allow us to creatively transform the world around us, as well. But this insight doesn't as easily fit onto a bumper sticker or T shirt. And it's important to realize that we need not desire it to.