Breakfast with the founder of Whole Foods

One more in my accounts of memorable philosophical meals. So. It had been a long time since I had spent the night at anyone's house but mine. Yeah, dozens of hotels a year, sometimes scores, but no sleepovers at private homes. Before or after a big talk on a stage in front of however many hundreds or thousands of people, I like the quiet isolation of a hotel room. We don't have to go all the way back to bunny pajamas for my last sleepover at somebody's house, but still, it had been long ago. Yet, when John Mackie, the founder of Whole Foods, invited me to come down to Austin a day before I was due there for a talk, and stay at his house, I couldn't pass up the chance—just to see what was in his refrigerator. While he was cooking us dinner, we drank champagne and talked about life. And with the meal we had a nice red wine. He's a strict no oil vegan, so it was with some trepidation that I took my first bite of the baked potato piled with water-sautéed veggies that he had prepared. But it was surprisingly good. His wife had just returned from one of her frequent spiritual trips to India, and the three of us stayed up late talking about the top gurus there and the legendary feats they reportedly accomplish, through a mastery of the mind and its impact on the body.

But I was going to talk about breakfast. So, I got up the next morning in the beautiful book-lined home and padded down to the kitchen, where I think I remember various granolas, great breads and jams and juice and coffee. But I could be wrong, because it was early, I was still half asleep, and it was the conversation during that entire visit that stuck, including that morning. Here's an example.

John told me about his first little health food store in Austin. It was his dream. He and his girlfriend ran it, and lived upstairs, without a bathroom or anything. They were barely surviving. But they had a great idea for providing a place for healthy fresh foods, and they loved their early customers, and those people felt their care and responded with a special affection for the little shop. Then an unexpected flood nearly destroyed it all. Everything was ruined. They were devastated. It looked like the business couldn’t possibly recover. There was little or no insurance. But customers, neighbors, and friends spontaneously showed up the next day and voluntarily got to work, cleaning up the monumental mess, rebuilding the store, and giving us the foundation of what would soon become the national chain, Whole Foods. What had looked truly terrible was the prelude to something great.

In 1971, the night before the rock band Deep Purple was going to record an album in Montreaux, Switzerland, their venue burned to the ground. The musicians watched all their plans go up in flames as thick smoke spread over Lake Geneva. And yet, they didn’t get discouraged, give up, and go home, but instead wrote and recorded the classic hit song, “Smoke on the Water.” 

Scientist Percy Spencer was visiting the Raytheon Company and stood too close to a magnetron, a tube that released energy as a part of radar equipment at the time. A forgotten candy bar in his pants pocket melted, made a mess and ruined the pants, and yet got him curious and thinking, which quickly led to the modern indispensible marvel, the microwave oven.

Swiss engineer George de Mestral was on a walk in the woods with his dog. At some point, he realized that they were both getting covered with annoying burrs, sticking to the pants of one and the fur of the other. After painstakingly plucking the burrs off, he examined a few closely and, with what he learned, invented velcro.

Floods. Fires. Melted candy. Sharp, irritating burrs. The world is full of problems that come our way, large and small. But you don't have to be a guru in the mountains of India in order to use your mind and spirit to transform the situation, often with the help of likeminded people, friends, and colleagues. What may initially seem bad can be the doorway to something very good indeed. Even when it's vegan cooking.

What I Don't Know Could Fill a Library

I Know Much Less Than I Think.

Socrates knew more than anyone around him realized when he presciently claimed that his wisdom consisted in his awareness of how little he knew, by contrast with the crowds of people in his day who thought they knew much more than they did.

A review of a new book helped me to recapture today the Socratic sensibility that, in our own hearts, a nobility of aspiration should always be wed to a humility of belief. The book is The Knowledge Illusion: Why We Never Think Alone. It can be found at the link: http://amzn.to/2pTwssT

And the interesting review is here: https://www.nytimes.com/2017/04/18/books/review/knowledge-illusion-steven-sloman-philip-fernbach.html

Lunch with Norman Lear

Ok. So. One day years ago I had lunch with Norman Lear at his vacation home in Vermont, formerly owned by Robert Frost, and then the famous abstract artist Kenneth Noland (look him up if you don't know his work). It's a beautiful place adjacent to a state forest. The photo here is Norman standing at one of the doors. We ate outside on the porch. Sunny. Perfect temperature of about 70 degrees, with a light breeze. I think we had sandwiches and various picnic salads fixed by his chef and staff. I could hardly focus on what I was eating. Because, hey, it was Norman Lear. Sitting two feet away from me. Maybe three. Creator of All in the Family, The Jeffersons, Sanford and Sons, Good Times, Maude, and on and on, while also funding and producing movies like This is Spinal Tap, The Princess Bride, and Fried Green Tomatoes. And in his spare time founding People for the American Way, among other organizations. I later had lunch with him at a Las Vegas hotel dining room, and later still at the Biltmore Hotel in Montecito, California. The food was always good, I think, but it's the talk I remember. And one day, walking through the kitchen in his Brentwood Hills LA home, The kitchen staff was cooking up something really great, but I had to be somewhere else. You know philosophy. Always something. Busy, busy.

But back to the vacation house. We had a nice little lunch party. Norman and me, along with the then Dean of the Harvard Divinity School and his wife, and Tom and Kate Chappell, married founders of Tom's of Maine, the eco friendly personal care products company. The six of us laughed a lot. I was pretty funny. Norman wasn't bad, either. I remember that Fed Ex pulled up with a package about every fifteen minutes, and he got a phone message about every five minutes, all of which he waved off until somebody important was "calling from the plane" and he had to absent himself for a few minutes. Hollywood. 

After lunch, Norman invited me to take a walk with him, just the two of us, to talk. We ended up lying in the grass in his huge front yard and pondering life and creativity and the spirit. He said, "It took me a long time to realize the importance of ethics and spirituality in life, and that if you don't get these two things right, you'll not likely get anything else right." That was pretty profound, and deeply true. He also asked me if being creative ever made me romantically frisky. But he used other words. I said, "Hmm. I never thought about it, but I guess so. How about you, Norman?" He said, "All the time, Tom. All the time."

Ethics. Spirituality. Creativity. And other stuff.

I've got many more stories from that and other lunches, but I should sign off now. I'm feeling creative.

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.

A Few Thoughts on Kindness and Love

Kindness is a connection that allows wisdom, virtue, and inner growth to flow in both directions.

When the powerful cease to care for the powerless, when the rich ignore the poor, the world has developed a malady of the very worst sort.

Kindness should be as natural as breathing. It should be our heartbeat, our DNA—not just a default, but a constant under all else.

Perhaps God made you big to help the very small. Or maybe you're now small to challenge and inspire the large. Either can be a blessing, and confer one, as well.

Only the confused are without compassion.

Love is giving more than getting. It can be wonderful, severe, and challenging. It's the work for which we're here. And it is its own reward.

There is a deep magic beneath the turbulent surface of the world. And in that underground stream, peace and power are to be found. The waters that flow there are those of love.

What you love will reveal you, and further form your soul. Therefore: Love the right things. Avoid the unworthy. Live with compassion.

When you love the right things, the right things will find you.

Friday Thoughts.

Aim at lofty goals. The higher and farther away they are, the more likely you'll fall short. But the aspiration will alter and ennoble you.

The wheel of worldly fortune will turn and whip you from high to low unless you let wisdom center you at the hub. There, you can be calm and steady.

We too often see what we want to see, and what we expect to see, not what's actually there to be seen.

Anyone who thinks they have access to all the facts is kidding you. Anyone who denies there are any facts is seeking to harm you, or help themselves to something that's not rightfully theirs.

When people are afraid to tell the truth or just don't want to, they start saying there's no such thing as truth. Beware. Withdraw trust.

Opinion can be a good place to start but never a good place to end. Knowledge is always better, and that takes evidence and reason.

If we exist for eternities but are here only for decades, that stunning fact alone should help to put things into perspective.

Why is it so hard to have good and deep conversations with people? There's so much we could learn from each other. We need to find a way.

To live in the present moment, enriched by both past and future, and yet never diminished by either, is the secret to contentment.

To engage fully in a task that demands your talent and skill and strong mental focus is a step along the path of personal fulfillment.

Evil is typically noisy. Goodness is more often quiet. But only goodness can last.

We're here in this life with matches. Some of us try to strike them and hold them up to illumine the dark. Others seek to burn things down.

Who do you look to, and even emulate? We're all formed by those we admire and who spark our aspirations. We all need mentors who are wise.

Surround yourself with wisdom. Surround yourself with love. That's the only way to surround yourself with proper support and encouragement.

One of the greatest tests of spiritual maturity is patience. And, yeah, I know.

When God called Abraham, Moses, and Isaiah, each said, "Here I am." The Hebrew word signaled an attentiveness and a readiness to serve.

Life is best lived as a conduit for those great good energies that come from far beyond us and inspire us as we use them to lift others up.

One day can bring both charms and alarms. We should cultivate our ability to appreciate the former and tolerate the latter, unruffled.

They say we become what we think about. Not really. But our habitual thoughts do begin to color us, or stain us, with their tonalities.

Inner strength is different from physical strength. It's about being open to power from beyond yourself that you can spiritually leverage .

Self Cultivation and The Spirit

We've all heard stories about former couch potatoes who became marathon runners, or the morbidly rotund who slowly developed themselves into chiseled Triathlon specimens. And, I don't know about you, but, as the first person in my family ever to go to college, I entered higher education not knowing a lot, and by the time I graduated from UNC and Yale, I had become intellectually transformed.

Blaise Pascal suggested in the seventeenth century that there are three levels of life:

The Physical

The Intellectual

The Spiritual

We know we can cultivate ourselves physically. Just a little extra exercise every day can begin to work wonders. In my late fifties, I tried for the first time the weight lifting workout called bench press. I remember vividly my first session on the bench, lifting 85 pounds. I wondered if I could ever get as high as 150. A few years later, in my early sixties, I could bench 315 pounds—a result far beyond anything I could have ever imagined. During the same time, in simple pushups, I went from a maximum of 25 pushups in a set, all the way to 120. Again, I never could have even dreamed of that. But little things added up. Physically and intellectually, we can cultivate our capacities in remarkable ways.

Can we do the same thing spiritually? I've come to think so. But how is not quite as obvious. We don't have any comparable college of spiritual knowledge with a football and basketball team in our home state, or spiritual gyms and trainers all across town with proven methods and the testimonials of many, along with before and after photos. Or do we? Maybe it just requires more digging to find ways to cultivate and develop your spirit. And perhaps, getting started, just like with early reading and exercise, depends a lot on us, and our habits.

Do you read for spiritual cultivation? Do you meditate or pray? What else might be relevant to the cultivation and development of this level of your life? Do you have the equivalent of a study partner or workout partner for spiritual matters? I discovered in the weight room that a mentor, someone farther down the path, can be of immense assistance. And don't think that just going to church or synagogue or mosque or temple will do it. As an old saying has it, hanging out in a garage won't make you a car.

Can you become a spiritual marathoner? Or the equivalent of a Triathlete? As Socrates might say, and as Pascal would agree, these are questions well worth asking. Just imagine if you could make the same leap of growth deep in your spirit that you can realize in body or mind. Do you find it hard to imagine this? Yes, so do we all. But as we begin to explore this rarely explored realm and get to work, we might just find that self cultivation can here as well generate literally unimaginable results.

Three Kinds of People

You may have heard an old proverb: There are three kinds of people in the world—Those who make things happen, those who watch things happen, and those who go around saying, "What happened?" I’ve always loved that distinction.

A different but related three-fold difference has been on my mind recently. There are lots of people who will run way from a building that's on fire; there are many others who, from a safe distance, will watch a building burn; and then there are a few brave souls who will actually run toward a building in flames—to see if they can be of help to anyone in there who might desperately need their assistance.

Most of us will go through a time in our lives when it seems that things are burning up, or burning down. An important business or financial opportunity has burned to the ground. A trusted relationship is being consumed by flames. An inner psychological or emotional conflagration has been sparked unexpectedly. And some people we thought we could count on will see it happening and run away. Others may choose to watch from a safe distance. And yet, there are a precious few who will run toward the fire, and into the building, to try to be of help. When there's someone like that in your life, you should be very glad. But what’s even more important is to try your best to be that person for others.

The late novelist Reynolds Price once wrote an amazing short book with the title, Letter to a Man in the Fire. It was a heartfelt response to a correspondence he had with a young medical student whose life and career were suddenly being consumed by the inferno of cancer. The young man had deep and personal questions. The writer ran to the fire and sought to bring him answers.

There are people in our lives who are in a fire. They’re in a burning building. Will you run away to keep yourself safe, or just far from the discomfort it might bring you? Will you watch it all burn from a distance? Or will you run toward the flames to bring whatever help you’re capable of offering? We should want and strive to be in that category. We won’t always succeed. We’ll sometimes fail our fellows and friends. But we can seek to embody that courage in all things to run toward the fire and seek to aid anyone who might be endangered by the flames and need, perhaps, such as we can bring.

Early Sunday Thoughts

Every morning, your soul parachutes into this world anew. Look around your landing zone and see what good you can do where you are.

Life is a spiritual obstacle course, with "refreshment centers" scattered about. When you pick up a cool drink, pass one on to someone else.

In this journey, sometimes you lead, sometimes you follow. Always be ready to do your part well and help others with theirs.

A little zen in the morning will prepare you for cacophony throughout the day. Breathe. Be. Do.

In the daily torrent of sights, sounds, and news, find a still place, an Oasis WIthin, from which to act well and powerfully.

It's good to keep track of the news from the nation and the world, but don't neglect the good you can do where you are.

Anger is energy and should always be transmuted into something more productive—like creative, benevolent action.

A great sunny morning reminds me of the inner light that always awakens us and lifts us up when we let it in. And even more, when we bask in it.

Sometimes, soar.

Wisdom: The Pearl of Great Value

Wisdom is never just a matter of words. It's embodied insight, lived discernment, and really more like love than knowledge.

There are of course a lot of things that get discussed under the name of love but aren't wise, and under the name of wisdom but aren't loving. Those are always pretenders, counterfeits, and inauthentic substitutes.

True wisdom is loving. True love is wise. When we use those insights as touchstones for authenticity, we're better able to spot the inauthentic for what it is.

Give me wisdom. Give me love. And I'll give both away as soon as I can. And then, wonderfully, I'll somehow have more.

Your Natural Stoic Joy

When I was growing up, I often heard the word ‘stoic’ in the context of not showing emotion, or even not feeling it. I had to become a philosopher and read the stoics to learn that was wrong.

My favorite stoic teachers—Seneca, Marcus Aurelius, and Epictetus—seemed to think that we have, as our deep natural state, a sort of joy. This joy in living, in being a part of such a wondrous world, in being with others under the warmth of the sun, or amid the nightly spectacle of the sparkling stars, should be our default position, our resting state, and our ordinary possession. But many of us, they suggested, have allowed it to be lost because of worry, fear, concern, anxiety, upset, irritation, anger and a host of other negative emotions that rush at us, day after day. Some of us are even pulled away from that natural joy by what we might think of as positive emotions like exuberance and excitement and passion. When even positive feelings become too strong, or are sparked by the wrong things, we can be dislodged from the joy that’s meant to be ours.

So the stoics urged us to be guardians of our souls, protectors of that natural joy. We should be skeptics and doubters in the face of anything that might take it away. And that’s a challenge. I just went through one of those medical tests where, for a man of my age, there could have been something that severely challenged the joy. But there was what we call by contrast good news instead. And yet the stoics cautioned us on thinking any news was in itself either good or bad. They wanted to reserve those terms for the states of our own souls, and never apply them to externals. While we may not be so extreme as they were in this regard, I get their point. We too easily rush to judgment about what seems good or what seems bad. And this alienates us from our joy. But in the end, what is good for us or bad for us may turn on what we make of it in the long run. And we can act best to be spiritual alchemists when we’re in that state of joy.

As you read the news today, or hear someone say something that disturbs you, don’t grab it and hold it close, but loosen your grip on it emotionally. Let it go enough to return to that state of mind and heart our stoic friends would wish for you. Then, you can be your best as you do and feel and create.

Walt Whitman, Democracy, and My New Novels

There's a wonderful short essay today about Walt Whitman and his views on American democracy, at the always insightful website Brain Pickings.

Whitman believed that having an idealistic literature would be crucial to our survival and flourishing as a democracy. Reading him, I became aware anew of how the novels I'm now publishing exemplify eactly that in their tone. They even feature an enlightened Philosopher-King preparing his people for the demands and opportunities of democracy. There are criminals and power hungry men and revolutionaries, as well, but we see in the stories what it takes for the best people to stand up to the worst and prevail.

Whitman thought that a nation's literature ought to show the deepest resources of human nature by which we can deal with our toughest challenges. And that again brought me up short, with a realization that this is exactly what my new stories do. And so, as their readership grows, day to day, I hope they'll make a difference in our time that would make Walt proud. I didn't realize until this morning that they have been written over the past six years for exactly our time. We have plenty of dystopian tales in our bookstores and libraries. We need more inspiration and wisdom for the path we're on. For more on the new books, go to:

www.TheOasisWithin.com.

For more on Walt and his message:

https://www.brainpickings.org

On Kindness

Am I centered enough, grounded enough, confident enough and strong enough to be kind? Those who aren't display these other deficiencies for all to see.

Any small act of kindness that I offer another person typically ends up doing me more good than it accomplishes for the recipient. It even seems to be the most reliable path to my own happiness. And in a world that seems not to value it nearly enough, it's simply the right thing, whenever possible, to do and to be.

Therefore, I hereby vow in any situation to think: How can I be kind?

The Christmas Review of My New Novel, The Stone of Giza

First of all: Merry Christmas to all of you and thank you for reading these little blog posts. I appreciate the chance to think with you about things that matter. I'll have a new nugget for you tomorrow on wisdom. But today, I want to share the nice Christmas gift that came for me today with the first review of my new novel. It starts like this:

Imagine a concoction that's part "Raiders of the Lost Ark," part Harry Potter, part Dan Brown, part Hardy Boys Meets Nancy Drew, with a strong dose of philosophy and ethics.

That might give you an idea of "The Stone of Giza," Wilmington author Tom V. Morris' latest novel in his "Walid and the Mysteries of Phi" series.

A self-described public philosopher, Morris is known for such best sellers as "If Aristotle Ran General Motors." "True Success" and "The Art of Achievement." Lately, though, he's been dabbling in fiction. His "Walid" books serve up a mix of boys' adventure yarn—the hero, Walid, is 13, after all—with a philosophical narrative along the lines of Voltaire's "Candide."

For "Stone of Giza," Morris throws his readers in the deep end ...

The long review ends with the words: "Morris supplies a satisfying adventure story that could appeal to a larger audience." 

Thanks, Ben Steelman and Star News!

The book can be found at: http://amzn.to/2gaAQ1S

The Oasis Within and Self Examination

I'm so grateful to everyone who's been writing me about my short novel, The Oasis Within and the series it begins. I'm getting two sorts of emails: (1) "I wish I had been able to read a book like this years or decades ago" and (2) "This book has come into my life at the perfect time." I'm sure there are also people with the response (3) "This is an extremely odd book for Tom Morris to write," but so far they're not emailing me or posting perplexed reviews on Amazon. Many readers are asking how I ever came to write such novels at all, set as they are in Egypt in 1934 and 1935. 

I've just come to understand the role that relentless, deep, and difficult self examination played in freeing me up for this great adventure. 

If you had asked me ten years ago about my childhood, I would have sincerely said, "It was great." But that was because I was blocking a lot of the real truth, which was that I had an attractive, young, emotionally damaged mother who had been raised in an orphanage and was determined to live out her frustrated ambitions through her only child, who therefore could not possibly please her. Such damage is never confined to one generation. So if, as a child, I brought home less than excellent grades, war ensued—a scorched earth spiritual Aleppo campaign against the loudly delineated deficiencies of a frightened bewildered little six or eight or ten-year-old. And so I lived for decades unaware of the engines of need buried deep in my psyche. Nothing was ever enough. I couldn't write one article, I had to write fifty. I couldn't have one fountain pen. I needed twenty. Imagine how expensive this could get with BMWs. Until I was one day able to face up to the fact that my constant need for achievement, my continual rushing about, my never being satisfied, might all be due to something that desperately needed attention, and perhaps healing. 

Socrates stressed the importance of self-examination, and when I decided to do it relentlessly, and even with a measure of courage and great pain and glimmers of hope, it cleansed me and freed me from so many inner obstacles that I had not been aware existed. 

And then my mental movie started to play. it was showing me in living color and surround sound Dolby X the great lessons of life wisdom that went beyond anything I had ever felt or thought. I met young people in Egypt in 1934 and the adults in their lives, and I fell in love with them to the extent that the criminals and revolutionaries who were their enemies caused me great concern for their safety as I wrote and wrote, typing as fast as I could, while the scenes and stories and insights poured over me—the inner visions that, so far, have resulted in eight novels of over a million words, with the first three now in print: The Oasis Within, The Golden Palace, and The Stone of Giza. And I'm already excited about the next installment just months from now, The Viper and The Storm. But I truly can't wait until the one after that, The King and Prince, that taught me some of the deepest lessons of my life. And still the very deepest is in the last that's now written, a book called The Ancient Scroll. There I learned the most powerful lessons about redemption and personal transformation.

I tell you this short and ultimately happy story in case you may have hidden, deeply buried obstacles in your own psyche that need your attention. A program of honest and relentless self examination may just be the thing to free you for your own next adventure, which as I've experience, can be a joy you could never otherwise have even imagined.

www.TheOasisWithin.com

Our Actions Matter

Our actions matter. All of them do. And that’s a lesson most often learned from the more unfortunate of our choices, rather than through the better things we produce. 

In the novel, A Place on Earth, by Wendell Berry, a father has long taught his son to farm, and the time has come to turn over a patch of land to the young man to let him plow and plant it on his own. The father is later reminiscing on the event, and ruminating on how much topsoil has been lost over the years to bad decisions—from mistakes he saw his own father make, as well as from his own misjudgments. He then tells what happened with his son:

“Anyhow, Virgil broke his ground farther over the brow of the hill than he should have. Like a boy, you know. Didn’t stop in time. But he got his rows laid off about right, and got his crop out—and I didn’t say anything, hoping he’d have luck and get that mistake free. Thought I’d show him later what he’d done wrong, soon as I could do it without hurting his feelings.

"But there was an awful rain one night after his crop had been out, I guess, two weeks. I heard it begin and lay listening to it, knowing what was bound to be happening. And the next morning I said, ‘Let’s go look at your crop.’ So we went, and walked all the way around it. It was hurt. Bound to have been. There’s no way to plow sideline ground so it’ll hold in a rain like that. ‘Virgil,’ I said, ‘this is your fault. This is one of your contributions to the world.’ That was hard for me to say. And he took it hard. I saw he was about to cry. And bad as I hated to do it, I let it work in him while we stood there and looked. I knew he was hating the day he ever thought of raising a crop, ready to give up. Finally I put my arm around him and I said, ‘Be sorry, but don’t quit. What’s asked of you now is to see what you’ve done, and learn better.’ And I told him that a man’s life is always dealing with permanence—that the most dangerous kind of irresponsibility is to think of your doings as temporary. That, anyhow, is what I’ve tried to keep before myself. What you do on the earth, the earth makes permanent.”

I love the words: Be sorry, but don’t quit. What’s asked of you now is to see what you’ve done and learn better.

We can recover from most mistakes. But the world somehow records them all. And that’s a serious thought. Equally important is the idea that we’ll all make mistakes, and our job then is to keep going, learn, and improve. We’re not here with the expectation of perfection, only with the hope of improvement. Our actions do matter. One way or another, they're all permanent. And we have to live with that fact.

Little Things

Sometimes, it amazes me how little I've been able to accomplish in my 64 years, so far. And that puts things into perspective. I think that if I could live to be 250 or 300 years old, I might be able to get something done and make a real difference for others. But of course, that would depend on medical science giving me its own little boost along the way. Fountain of Youth Researchers out there, get busy. Otherwise, 200 year old philosophers aren't exactly yet known for ongoing beneficial achievements.

Psychologists warn us about comparing ourselves to others. But the real warning should be about comparing our actual life accomplishments, whatever they might be, against the vastness of the possibilities that necessarily elude our grasp. We're always like Sir Isaac Newton, merely playing with a few seashells on the shore while that ocean of potential lies out there, still forever unexplored.

My daughter just did some pumpkin-carving art for Halloween at our house that's really world-class sculpture. I mentioned to her that people should be lining up to pay thousands of dollars for these ephemeral works of art, and she laughed and said that she'd be lucky if more than four people ever see them. I know how she felt. I've written philosophy articles in the technical academic journals like that, hidden away on remote library shelves. But you know, when I reflect on it more, I have to admit that I'm even prepared to write entire books like that. Why not? We do what we do, and we always hope for the best as a result. But the best isn't essentially about changing the world on some grand scale. It could be about delighting one person, or a few. It could be like that mythic little pebble tossed into a huge calm lake and creating its tiny ripples that, at some point unseen, keep going. Whether we toss our small stones out into the lake of life for 30 years, or 90 years, or 300, their ripples may yet go where they are meant to go, and do what they're meant to do, whether we ever see their results, or not. We're never in a good position ourselves to say, at least on this side of the pond. 

So I'll draw a conclusion. It's quite Ok to accomplish little things. Even if it may take a lot longer than you think.

Grace: A Quick Sunday Morning Thought.

What is it to embody grace, to be gracious in word and deed? 

It's positioning ourselves alongside the highest and best of what is. It's joy. It's love. And it's our greatest opportunity. There is no ungracious path to real happiness or true success. Grace touches deep in the soul and elevates us in a unique way. It means acting beyond the calculus of merit, with forgiveness and transformative power, demonstrating both nobility and humility in equal measure each day. It's the spirit of living well and abundantly in all good things. It's our calling and chief dignity in the world.

Some Random Thoughts

Courage. It's necessary for all the best things we might do, have, or become. It somehow matters every day.

"Courage is the only soil in which our talents can grow and be used well." Ali, in The Stone of Giza, soon to be published.

Speaking the truth in love. That's one of my favorite phrases in the Bible. And it's a great ideal to aspire to. Both parts are important.

Don't fear being contradicted. Fear only being too incurious to see what's true. Keep your guard down and your mind open to learn well.

Discernment and logical care are vital components of what we call wisdom.

Whatever your work or life might be, a sense of nobility and humility kept in balance will allow a level of greatness otherwise impossible.

The Double Power Principle: Anything with great power for good has equal and opposite power for ill. It's normally up to us how we use it.

The Dual Significance Principle: Any job productive of good can be given a trivial or noble description. Ultimate motivation needs nobility.

When people use a holy book or scriptural quotation to condemn and divide, it makes me sad. There is one Judge, and none of us is that one.

Your inner thoughts can enrich or corrupt you. Nothing else has that power without engaging your thoughts. That means you can choose.

When you have the deepest understanding of life, you come to realize that we're here to help and not harm those around us. Compassion rules.

Good people can make bad mistakes. Let others back into your heart when they learn and recover. You'll need them to do the same for you.