A Brief Thought for Our Fraught Moment, or Any Challenging Time

Remember: Don't mistake a frame in the film for the film itself, a chapter of the story for the whole tale, or a moment in your life for more than it is. We're all in some way the co-creators of what comes next and can make a positive difference to the outcome in the overall flow of things.

In many great stories, the hardest things happen before the most wonderful things come to be. And we tell such stories and love to hear them because they reflect the strange movements of our world in a way that we need to be reminded of, time and again. It’s always darkest at some point before the dawn. Things look hopeless for the hero when he’s down, and then there’s a great turnaround.

Courage. Faith. Hope. Love. Creativity. Openness. Peace. Positive Action. Many things can float our boat well.

When to Take a Risk

"And he found out that if he wanted to fly, he first had to jump."  - The Little Paris Bookshop, 141.

"If you don't take any risks, life will pass you by." - The Little Paris Bookshop, 188.

A few days ago, I told the story of being stuck in a Costco store for an hour after the intended day's shopping was done. I just had to wait. And rather than let either frustration or boredom have a run at me, I decided to take positive action and explore the books and the wines in the shop. As a result, I made some wonderful discoveries - the big, engaging supernaturalist novel by David Mitchell, The Bone Clocks, and a wonderful new book by Nina George called The Little Paris Bookshop, which is set mostly on a river barge that's been turned into a bookstore, and is really a story about risk and love. And, oh, yeah, there was also an amazing 2010 Bordeaux red for $16.95 - a vintage where you'll often pay hundreds of dollars a bottle. But $16.95? I took the risk. And it was really nice.

Risk.

When I chose to leave a tenured full professorship at Notre Dame to launch out on a mission as a public philosopher, people said two things to me that gave me pause, and actually kept me up for a couple of nights: "Do you realize all that you're giving up?" And: "How do you know you can sustain this new adventure?" They were asking me to consider the clear sacrifices I was making, and the lack of guarantees I had about my new venture. That was 20 years ago, this month.

Those are two questions that can always be asked about anything new. And they should be pondered. What are you giving up by doing this? What are you getting by doing this?

Whenever you leave one thing, or form of life, or comfortable way of engaging the world, and take up something new, there is, presumably, both risk and reward. You should indeed reflect on both.

There's a general truth in life: No risk, no reward. It's of course the cousin of "No pain, no gain." Every time we commit to anything new, anything that involves a new path forward, we risk our hearts, our status in the eyes of others, sometimes our finances, and of course, always, possible failure. Whenever there's a fork in the road that's unmarked, and we choose to choose and keep moving, we risk picking the wrong path, one that won't be right for us, in the deepest ways. But risk is inescapable in life. Given that truth, we want to take the best and most reasonable risks we can, given who we are and what we most properly value - however crazy they might seem to onlookers. What does your heart tell you? What does your head say, as well? And can you get them to agree? If you don't take any risks, life will certainly pass you by.

Reasonable risk contemplates the ration of risk and reward, as well as whether worst-case-scenario possibilities would still allow you options to move forward in a different way. Some risks have possible downsides that would clearly end your adventures on earth. In fact, many do. Some are worth that risk. Others aren't. Some risks could potentially wreck havoc, while still allowing you another chance in the game. And in each such case, you should make sure you're fully committed to the potential rewards before launching out in the face of such risk. But since, in the most general sense, some form of risk is really unavoidable, we should indeed be prepared to embrace the risks that seem right for us, the ones that can potentially grow us and our positive impact on the world, starting with those fellow citizens of the world who are closest to us.

Life is a dynamic flow that at best involves protecting some things and letting go of others, as we move and change and grow. Risk is about release, but it's also about reaching out for something new and great.

The New York Times and many other news outlets recently ran glowing obituaries on a remarkable man, Nicholas Winston, who, as a young 29 year old clerk at the London Stock Exchange, visited Czechoslovakia, saw a need, and did some amazing things to save the lives of 669 Jewish children from the growing Nazi threat, and despite the tremendous risks he took, lived to the ripe old age of 106, from which vantage point he could see the 6,000 descendants, and counting, of those he saved. When he was asked to reflect on his choices, he said, "Why do people do different things? Some people revel in taking risks, and some go through life taking no risks at all." His risks had consequences for good that will go on forever. Yours can, too.

We should all be willing to take the risk, however big or small, that can have great consequences for good. We should consider what we're releasing, and what we're reaching for, and when conviction propels us onward, we can listen to the concerns of others without letting those worries stop us from taking the risk that seems right.

Life While-You-Wait

Today I just want to share a powerful and profound short poem by Nobel laureate Wislawa Szymborska (1923-2012). It comes from her book Map: Collected and Last Poems. I came across it on www.brainpickings.org, one of my favorite websites. Read it twice if you can. The last two lines are particularly striking, in the context of the poem, and of our lives. I do grieve for some of what I will forever have done. Perhaps you do, too. But there is an alchemy that can redeem and reweave even our worst into a different and never expected best.

LIFE WHILE-YOU-WAIT

Life While-You-Wait.
Performance without rehearsal.
Body without alterations.
Head without premeditation.

I know nothing of the role I play.
I only know it’s mine. I can’t exchange it.

I have to guess on the spot
just what this play’s all about.

Ill-prepared for the privilege of living,
I can barely keep up with the pace that the action demands.
I improvise, although I loathe improvisation.
I trip at every step over my own ignorance.
I can’t conceal my hayseed manners.
My instincts are for happy histrionics.
Stage fright makes excuses for me, which humiliate me more.
Extenuating circumstances strike me as cruel.

Words and impulses you can’t take back,
stars you’ll never get counted,
your character like a raincoat you button on the run —
the pitiful results of all this unexpectedness.

If only I could just rehearse one Wednesday in advance,
or repeat a single Thursday that has passed!
But here comes Friday with a script I haven’t seen.
Is it fair, I ask
(my voice a little hoarse,
since I couldn’t even clear my throat offstage).

You’d be wrong to think that it’s just a slapdash quiz
taken in makeshift accommodations. Oh no.
I’m standing on the set and I see how strong it is.
The props are surprisingly precise.
The machine rotating the stage has been around even longer.
The farthest galaxies have been turned on.
Oh no, there’s no question, this must be the premiere.
And whatever I do
will become forever what I’ve done.

Curiosity Has a Magic

Curiosity has a magic that's equal parts attention and desire.

It means you care, and makes you observe. Your mind is alive. Your perceptions are heightened. You now have a quest, however big or small.

Curiosity shines a light into the darkness. It chases away shadows and illumines what's hidden. It reaches out and feels its way forward. It's a collector of endless gifts.

It's a birthright. It's the push that makes the unknown to be known. Uncertainty piques it. Certainty ends it. Its job is to move on, farther down the road of possibility of what can be done and discovered.

Both delight and danger begin with curiosity.

Curiosity is the engine of innovation, the cradle of creativity, the air that genius breathes. It's fragile in some, and robust in others. Can it be cultivated? Can it be enhanced?

I'm curious.

I am.

We Know So Little

We don't know one tenth of one percent of anything. Who first said that? I think it was Thomas Edison who, at least in that remark, knew one hundred percent of what he was talking about.

It's easy to think that our best science already basically understands the world and those of us in it, until you talk to real scientists, or at least the ones who are the pioneers at the cutting edge of their specialities. Human history is a series of misguided certainties. People have always thought that they basically knew what was going on in the world around them. And people have been so very wrong so many times that it should give us pause and instill in us a little humility, along with the measure of confidence that we also rightly need.

Modern medicine is at the brink of discoveries and changes that will so deeply revolutionize everything that it's hard for us now to imagine what health and healthcare will be like in a hundred years. And it may come much sooner than that.

Robotics will drastically alter manufacturing. Bigger, better, and much faster computers - even different sorts of computing - will reinvent business in many ways, only a few of which are already evident.

I suspect that psychology will even make discoveries that will transform our self understanding. And philosophy may make inroads that have been hitherto unanticipated. We're moving into the unknown at a faster pace than we can even guess on our wildest days. The cosmic and epistemic wind is strong at our backs, but we don't always feel it.

There are times on board a plane when it can seem like you're just sitting still in a nice leather armchair. But you're moving at hundreds of miles an hour. I see this as a nice metaphor for the human condition. It can sometimes feel like we're sitting still, when we're all moving forward much faster than we can sense.

When I was in middle school, and even high school, I'd ride for an hour in the family car to visit my grandparents, my father's parents, on their farm. They didn't have indoor plumbing or an electric stove. To wash my hands for lunch, I'd first go out behind the house to a dark metal pump. I'd put a basin beneath the spigot and grab the old rusty handle and pump a couple of times, before the cold, clear water began to flow. With the basin full, I'd take it back into the house and wash up in it, using soap someone had made, and then I'd go eat whatever had been cooked on the wood stove. Later in the day, we'd find leftovers stored in the unrefrigerated white wooden "pie safe" and have a snack. The "bathroom" had no walls, roof, or floor, and was out back behind some bushes. Things have changed, to put it mildly, at least for most of us. But the changes we've seen are nothing compared to what's around the corner.

So, when you're tempted to think you've got it all figured out, remember our kinetically kaleidoscopic context. We all could use a little Socratic self-realization about how little we truly know concerning the most fundamental mysteries of existence, and even the mundanities of everyday life. We need to open our minds a little more than ever before, with genuine curiosity to learn. The pace of change won't slow or stop, apart from a technology ending global catastrophe. The only way to dance with change well is with a humble spirit, an open mind, and insatiable curiosity.

I'm a philosopher who believes that we know many deep truths about life already. But I also think we have much more to learn yet ahead. And this sense impels me to explore, and seek more avidly than ever before. I hope you feel the same.

The Most Important Thing I've Learned

Perhaps the single most important thing I've learned as a philosopher is, that life is supposed to be a series of adventures, lived with love, confidence, and a real concern for others, as well as for ourselves. The adventure we're on right now, whatever it might be, and however great or challenging it seems, is preparing us for the next one, and often in ways we can't even imagine.

The uncertainty of the future is just the open field of possibility for adventure and creativity that we all need, moving forward, even though it can feel uncomfortable and even, at times, scary.

The key to successful living is to be open to new ideas and new paths along the way. The world is an endless kaleidoscope of opportunities, many of which may be so hidden as to require your investigative discovery, as well as openness.

Your ongoing job that's connected with this is what I call 3-D Living:

Discover your talents,

Develop those talents, and

Deploy them into the world for the good of others, as well as yourself.

3-D Living is a process that, ideally, never ends.

The most important moment in your life is the Right Now that allows for the Soon Next. And even though that sounds a little bit like a prolix fortune cookie, it's true, whether Confucius said it or not. Life is a dynamic process. We're to carry with us a dynamic orientation, leaning forward with the adventure we're now on, embracing the present, and preparing for the future.

Sometimes, Leap

"Don't be afraid to take a big step if one is indicated. You can't cross a chasm in two small jumps." David Lloyd George.

This is a nice image that I've long loved. You can't cross a broad chasm in two small jumps. Sometimes, you have to take a huge step, and sometimes a giant leap.

If you're normally a small stepper, that can be hard. But some things can't be accomplished any other way.

There are some big leaps in life that don't make sense. And there are others that do.

How can we know the difference? Discernment. Wisdom. Intuition. Listening.

What are your values? What do you love? What matters to you?

What do your dreams tell you? What is your heart saying?

If you're led to the edge of something new, and it's something very good, and a leap needs to be made, and your heart is nudging you forward, then leap!