Digging Deep into the Obvious

“Each second we live in a new and unique moment of the universe, a moment that never was before and will never be again.” - Pablo Casals

I find this observation of the obvious to be both profound and inspiring. But I also know that there are a lot of pseudo-intellectuals in public life who would scornfully dismiss it, and label it tautological, or trivial, or trite—a platitude that tells us nothing we didn't already know, long ago, and that we don't need a musician to tell us. But then again, as Georg Christoph Lichtenberg said once about how critics view a longer form of the written word, "A book is a mirror. If an ape looks into it, an apostle is hardly likely to look out." We see what we're capable of seeing, and typically no more.

Philosophy is most often about digging deep into the obvious and finding the treasures that hide there. This remark by Pablo Casals reminds me to make each moment count, to seize the day, to venture boldly forth within the possibilities that each new moment affords me, and not to let any of these precious opportunities go to waste. Life can be a thrilling ride. It's a swirl of unique chances to grow and do and make a difference. Casals is certainly one who, within his own lifetime, made the most of this insight. We would all do well to follow his lead.

When someone of intellect and sensitivity draws our attention to a familiar facet of the world, it's not usually because he or she thinks we've never noticed the most superficial aspect of that thing; it's normally due to the fact that if we view it properly, it can contain within itself a spark, a goad, and an inspiration for us to enjoy.

The Storms of Life

What can we learn from the storms of life?

I've mentioned before that over the past four years, I've been on an unexpected and unplanned adventure of writing a series of novels set in Egypt in 1934 and 1935, a time and place about which I knew little, when on a cloudy day in February of 2011, a movie began playing in my head and I rushed to write down all that I saw and heard. 

This morning, as I edited a passage, I came across a statement on learning from life's storms that I wanted to share. An older man crossing the desert says this to his nephew, right after they've survived a big desert windstorm and the boy thanks his uncle for a lesson he just taught him:

The world teaches me something every day. When you pay attention to life, truly pay attention, many good lessons come your way. Some arise out of darkness and wind. A mighty tempest can teach us in unforgettable ways. I wager that you’ll never forget this brief and violent storm today, and what you learned about how to act quickly, to protect yourself, to stay calm, and endure. The most tempestuous things in life often carry with them the deepest and most useful lessons about our actions, and our abilities. If we use our minds well, we can learn from even the most fearful and difficult things. Often, we gain the best insights from precisely those events.

I hope this statement resonates with you like it does with me. We can't keep the storms from coming, but we can learn from them if we pay attention and use our minds well.

An Imagined Exchange Based Loosely on True Events

Editor: We all admire your previous books, and find your platform as an author to be quite impressive. It's wonderful that you bring philosophy into the broader culture! And your current book manuscript doing so is certainly very elegantly written. I enjoyed it immensely. But I'm afraid that there's a problem that prevents our publishing it.

Me: What's the problem?

Editor: There's really nothing new in the book, nothing completely original.

Me: Hmmm. If that were true, why would it be a problem, exactly?

Editor: We publish new books to provide people with new ideas.

Me: Why do you do that?

Editor: Well, to help people solve their problems.

Me: What if that's not the best way to help them do that?

Editor: I don't understand.

Me: You want to provide new answers to old problems - problems people already have, or have had?

Editor: Yes.

Me: Have you ever considered, instead, the very different strategy of providing old answers to new problems?

Editor: What does that mean?

Me: Good. You've asked your first question.

Editor: What?

Me: We're on a roll now. And thank you for asking. I want to address new problems - the next ones that we'll face, the ones that will come our way tomorrow, and next week, and next year.

Editor: Ok. How?

Me: With old answers - ancient wisdom, ideas that have stood the test of time, reliable perspectives and recommendations, the tried and true, the deep and enduring insights that our upcoming problems will require, and that alone can provide the solutions we'll need.

Editor: So, instead of new answers to old problems, you're giving old answers to new problems?

Me: Yes.

Editor: Well, that is indeed original, and new.

Me: You think?

Editor: I do, but we still can't publish anything like that.

Me: You can't?

Editor: No. But, good luck with it. It deserves a great home.

Me: Thank you.

Editor: You're welcome.

Defeat, Rejection, and Victory

"No matter how often you are defeated, you are born to victory." Emerson.

No one is in the world for the purpose of failure. No one was born because there was a need for more rejection, dismissal, and defeat.

Too many people operate on the old “Three strikes and you’re out” mentality. I once had a professor who gave me some unsolicited but very helpful advice about submitting articles to professional philosophy journals for possible publication. He said: “Don’t even THINK about being discouraged until you’ve been rejected at least six times!” Shortly after that conversation, my first book was rejected thirty six times. At that point, I must admit that I was thinking very seriously about being discouraged. It was an obvious option. Depression was even a possibility. But the thirty seventh publisher I approached said yes. And I was a published author at the age of twenty-two.

One author I’ve heard about has wall-papered his office with rejection letters. Some of the top all time hit songs have been recorded by performers who were told repeatedly that they had no chance at all. There are great actors whose first two or three or seven movies were all bombs.  We won't even speak of all the actors who dream about being in any kind of movie, even a terrible one, while they finish yet another long shift as waiters in LA restaurants, or clerks in stores there. How many times have they heard "No"? 

A professor out west mailed his prized manuscript to a major publisher hoping for a quick ascent to fame and fortune. A month later, an envelope arrived by return mail containing literally the ashes of his hard work.

Don’t let little defeats get you down. Even repeated defeats. As Emerson said a hundred and fifty years ago, we are indeed all born to victory. We can rise again from any ashes we encounter.

Endure and Persist

Endure and persist. This pain will turn to your good, by and by. Ovid

Have you been hurt, in body or soul? Is there some pain due to difficulty in your life right now? The ancient poet Ovid wants us to know that every pain can produce positive results if we respond to it properly.

We must endure and persist, he says. Persistence is a forgotten concept in our quick time culture. We do indeed want instant gratification, and we’re often strangely surprised when it isn’t forthcoming. But the ancients saw more deeply. Anything of value takes time, and persistence. The word itself comes from two Latin roots that mean, “standing through.” To persist is to stand firm through time and challenge and difficulty. To endure is to take up a purpose or set yourself a goal and stick with it, regardless of the inconvenience or pain that may come between you and it.

Endure and persist.

Enjoyment, gratitude, and even a celebratory attitude toward the small daily joys of life, along with wonder at life itself should be important parts of our experience. But so should persistent effort toward worthy goals, and the ability to endure difficulty, buttressed by the realization that any the pain we experience can be a deep opportunity for growth, and a rich source of wisdom for the future.