Simple Can Lead Into Deep

When I was a professor, a reviewer of one of my academic books wrote of the "deceptive simplicity" of my writing style. That made me smile. I've always worked hard to get to the masterful sort of simplicity on the other side of complexity, fighting for the core essence of truth. And now, I'm glad to see early readers of my short novel The Oasis Within talking about the deceptive simplicity of it. 

One prominent author wrote me that his intellectually advanced and quite literary teenage son had started the book, read the first couple of pages, and put it aside, saying it was "too simple." I was sorry.

Then a man named Bruce, who was reportedly a longtime reader of deep spiritual books, bought The Oasis Within and began it. He emailed me and said that the opening pages couldn't command his attention and that it was probably too simple a book for him. I urged him to read on. Days later, he wrote back to say that it had become one of his favorite books of all time, and that now, he's given dozens of copies to friends, and has continued in his enthusiasm at the books of the series it begins, The Golden Palace and The Stone of Giza. 

Bruce recently told me that he had given a copy to a lady he knows and that she had called to tell him what she thought of it. He wrote me this:

<<Effusive has to be the word.

Gail called. She is the lady who is renting my daughter’s house. I had given her a copy of Oasis suggesting she might like it. This afternoon she called and said she started to read it last Thursday night when her husband was watching Football. She explained that she just couldn’t get much out of it, but decided she would just push on. I figured to mention that there are some books that may just not appeal to everyone, but before I spoke, Gail continued.

Soon she found she could not put the book down and that it might well be one of the most meaningful books she had ever read. It captures all of the important values that could make our lives better, and yet it is not religious. She feels every youth should get and read this book early in their teen years. But more; they should be encouraged to reread it every year to engrain and refresh this wisdom as they mature. She says her grandchildren are too young for the book as yet but will get a copy for each one as they move into their teens.

I told her I will loan her a copy of The Golden Palace so she can see how a more story-based theme can carry the message in a new way to younger people.

For me, it is so encouraging that more people are seeing the inherent truth and worth within these writings not even knowing the underlying reality of how they have come about. Though the ultimate medium for the Walid materials seems almost certainly somewhere in the video sphere from which it emerged, the value must rest in the written form for now. We can be grateful it is now available to all. Many different movements will be necessary to make this a better world and this can be a true step in the healing direction.>>

I was deeply gratified. Then, I got a note from the reader herself, addressed to me and her friend:

<<Good evening Bruce and Mr. Morris,

I truly feel blessed to have read "The Oasis Within". I know that I will read it again. And perhaps again and again!!

Bruce, you very eloquently summed up both my reaction and my response to this book. The beauty of it is that it offers much in its simplicity. Yet, although it is simple, it is not at all simple. One must read it to know what I mean.

Thank you, Mr. Morris, for writing this in such a way that it makes me wish I had had this book to read and learn from many years ago. I hope many people, both young and old, hear about your book and read it. It is a guide book one can refer to throughout life. In my mind, it is a classic.

Sincerely,

Gail G>>

One CEO has told me that pages 5 and 6 of The Oasis Within changed his life. But he had to get through the "deceptive simplicity" of pages 1-4 to get there. Then he saw what was really going on. 

I had a similar experience. These books all came to me unexpectedly, as something like a movie playing in my head, or as what Mary Shelley once described as a “waking dream.” The opening scene was of a man and a boy sitting in the sand under a palm tree, talking. Their conversation was simple. And yet, it provided a doorway that, since I was willing to walk through it, brought me into an unanticipated land of deep wisdom. And that’s the way the best simplicity can work—as a doorway to depth. But it’s up to us to use it. 

If you haven’t yet had the experience of The Oasis Within, The Golden Palace, and The Stone of Giza, I hope you will soon. Then, The Viper and the Storm will be available this spring, as the latest installment in the series. One book reviewer said recently that it’s The Temple of Doom and Dan Brown, and The Hardy Boys Meet Aristotle, and that when reading, he felt like he was thirteen years old again. I felt that way when writing them. I had no idea how a simple story would bring me the greatest deep wisdom of my life.

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?

Philosophy in Times of Folly

When the world is going crazy and folly envelops us all, philosophy becomes once more what it originally began as: a subversive activity.

To think. To refuse manipulation. To take a stand on truth, or uncertainty, whichever is available. To eschew simplemindedness.

To speak up. To question. To insist on clarity, or at least an open acknowledgment of confusion. To move beyond easy assumption.

To strip away rationalization, deception, illusion, empty rhetoric and callous intellectual laziness. To insist on what's real.

To demand honesty and precision. To show sloppy thinking for what it is. To reveal prejudice and display its utter unworthiness.

There is no greater civic duty required at present than to link hands with Socrates, Plato, and Aristotle and insist on the sharp steel edge of wisdom.

What is Life?

What is life? A dream? A great illusion? The analogue of a computer simulation on a cosmic scale? A divine zoo? A gift? An accident? An absurdity? Or ...

Is it an experiment? A training camp? A carnival? A risky adventure? An action and mystery novel full of comedy, romance, and tragedy that we're all trapped in—or perhaps, that we each can help write?

Is it an extravagant test? A noble gesture? A celebration of possibility? A celestial play of primordial fire? A chance at, and a dress rehearsal for, the truly unimaginable, yet to come?

Could it be: Outward Bound for souls? A spiritual garden and surrounding wilderness for the highest form of growth? A place set apart where you can choose to crawl or fly? Is it much more or much less than it seems?

What, then, after all, is life?

Proper Pride: From Out of Africa

In the great book, Out of Africa, written by author Karen Blixen under the penname of "Isak Denisen," there is a section called “From an Immigrant’s Notebook,” and a short piece within that notebook on pride. Here is an excerpt for your potential pondering.

The neighborhood of the Game Reserve and the presence, outside our boundary, of the big game, gave a particular character to the farm, as if we had been neighbors of a great king. Very proud things were about, and made their nearness felt.

The barbarian loves his own pride, and hates, or disbelieves in, the pride of others. I will be a civilized being, I will love the pride of my adversaries, of my servants, and my lover; and my house shall be, in all humility, in the wilderness a civilized place.

Pride is faith in the idea that God had, when he made us.  A proud man is conscious of the idea, and aspires to realize it.  He does not strive towards happiness, or comfort, which may be irrelevant to God’s idea of him. His success is the idea of God, successfully carried through, and he is in love with his destiny. As the good citizen finds his happiness in the fulfillment of his duty to the community, so does the proud man find his happiness in the fulfillment of his fate.

People who have no pride are not aware of any idea of God in the making of them, and sometimes they make you doubt that there has ever been much of an idea, or else it has been lost, and who shall find it again? They have got to accept as success what others warrant to be so, and to take their happiness, and even their own selves, at the quotation of the day. They tremble, with reason, before their fate.

 Love the pride of God beyond all things, and the pride of your neighbors as your own. The pride of lions: do not shut them up in Zoos. The pride of your dogs: let them not grow fat. Love the pride of your fellow-partisans, and allow them no self-pity.

Love the pride of the conquered nations, and leave them to honour their father and their mother.

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

Philosophy: A Few Thoughts

This has gotten a lot of response on Twitter and Facebook, so I wanted to revisit it here. I hope you enjoy these short ruminations.

Philosophy: A Few Thoughts.

Philosophy is about getting your bearings in this world we've all been dropped into. It's about Wisdom. And that means it’s about Truth. And Beauty. And Goodness. And Unity.

Philosophy can be hard, but all of us are, in a sense, homespun philosophers, trying our best to interpret our experience of this wild, surprising world.

We think of the great philosophers in the past as old, bearded eminences in togas or stiff collars. But they often pondered at young ages and just kept it up.

Philosophy isn’t male or female; young or old; white, or black, or brown. It's all of us seeking to understand our common nature and world.

Philosophy smiles on any of us who will keep it company for a time. It's not great at quick meet-and-greets. It likes to walk with us a while.

Philosophy isn't for show, or profit, or fame. It's the art of living well in any circumstances. It's first inner, then outer in its effects.

Philosophy is an array of habits and skills—of thinking, feeling, and doing. It's not just theory. It's a deep recipe for true flourishing.

Philosophy is a calling, whatever your job. It's a mission of wonder and investigation, curiosity and contemplation, and mostly: perspective.

Philosophy is well acquainted with my better self, and is always wanting to get us together.

I speak of philosophy as if it's singular. But like HipHop, Soul, Rock, Country, and Jazz, it has many manifestations. Yet, they’re all family.

Philosophy has two faces—one fierce, and the other: endlessly compassionate.

Philosophy is: questions in search of answers, in search of questions. And so on. It's the most recursive of discursive endeavors, forever.

Some philosophers build houses of thought. Others stay on the move.

Hill A and Hill B Insight

This past week, I had a new and very different insight connected with a story I’ve told many times. It involved a novel interpretation of a powerpoint drawing I’ve long used to illustrate the story. The point I normally use the drawing to make is the philosophical advice that we should not allow what is very good to keep us from what is best. While a vision of the best should never be an enemy of the good and prevent our enjoyment of it, in its own time, the comfort and proper pride of something good we’ve attained should also not keep us from exploring new heights of achievement. Life is supposed to be a series of adventures. A first good form of success shouldn’t imprison us, but rather empower us to go on and try even higher, or richer, levels of achievement.

The powerpoint slide in question shows two hills, as above, one of medium height and another some distance away that’s of much greater height. I call the shorter one, Hill A, and the taller one, Hill B. And here’s the usual story.

Imagine that you’re on a hike out in the woods and you’re leading a group of people. Suppose you set it as your goal to get to the highest point in the area, from which you’ll be able to survey all the surrounding terrain. And imagine that the highest point you can now see is the peak of Hill A. Whether it’s fog, or mist, or just perspective that blocks any other view, that’s the highest peak you can see from where you are initially. So, in order to attain your goal, you lead the group up Hill A. It’s a struggle. You slip and fall and pull yourselves back up, and finally you get to the top, from which vantage point you can now suddenly see the much higher Hill B. 

At this point in the story, I like to ask: If your goal is to get to the highest point in the area, and you now stand atop Hill A, where you can suddenly see that the highest point is really on Hill B, then what’s the first thing you’ll have to do to attain your true goal? And people inevitably answer, “Go downhill.” And I reply that, yes, they’re right. I also point out that when any leader suggests such a thing, nearly everyone on the team will tend to say or think, “No! It took us a long time to get up Hill A! It’s perfectly fine up here! We’re plenty high! We can see a lot from where we already are! We shouldn’t have to go downhill now at all! We should just stay and enjoy where we are.” It’s nearly universal. Nobody wants to go downhill.

My usual point is that many businesses, individuals, and even families are stuck on their own Hill A, because of the common reluctance to go downhill—which metaphorically represents changing what you’ve just been doing, leaving behind what might be a perfectly good success that you’ve had, and launching into the risk of trying something new and even better. Of course, any new journey will in its initial stage involve getting out of the proverbial comfort zone, and putting yourself into a new position where you’re deserting something good. Because of this, too many companies get stuck in their first form of success and nobody wants to go downhill, which is the only way to change, adapt, and discover new and better forms of achievement. And so the world passes them by. Champions, however, love a challenge, and are open to start the downhill trek as the first and necessary stage in any new and bigger ascent.

The novel insight I just had was simple and revelatory. A panel discussion right before I spoke recently and used this story was on the topic of adversity and overcoming failures in business. I then realized that there’s another way to use my drawing. Many people high up on Hill A get shoved off their place of success by circumstances and are pushed down the side, whether by economic factors they had never anticipated, or the actions of competitors, or changes in the industry. What they were doing and so proud of succeeding at is no longer available, and they find themselves tumbling down the side of Hill A.

Here’s the flash of good news: The sooner you can reframe the descent down Hill A as the first stage in a possible ascent of a higher Hill B, the sooner you turn that downward trajectory into something great: PROGRESS. You’re no longer just tumbling down, you’re moving forward. 

When you set new goals during bad times, you begin to take charge of what you can control, and leave aside what you can’t control. And you can then expand that circle. Tough times can become positive transitions if you make them so. Adversity can contain within itself a gift, and even a momentum that can take you to somewhere great, if you’ll just intervene by reframing your situation and setting new goals. This is stoic wisdom. It’s philosophical insight that you can use. So, whether you’re flourishing or falling, look for the next higher hill, and set a goal to get there.

Contentment

Contentment.

Happiness depends on a measure of inner contentment, and also fulfillment. And there are some distinctions here we all need to understand.

Contentment is simply accepting the present as being what it is—letting go of bitterness, resentment, anger, frustration, and the sting of all such negative emotions and attitudes. It doesn't require liking all that's present, or wanting it to continue, or even not planning to work hard to change things radically from being what they are to what they should be. It's merely a shedding of those negative emotions that get us all balled up and unable to move forward productively and well. 

The person with a measure of inner contentment finds things to focus on emotionally that are good, and that can be a basis for renewal and enjoyment and moving forward with whatever hard work needs to be done, A moment, or stretch, of intense discontent can motivate mightily, but extended, it begins to get in the way. You can set your heart with passion to work for a better future without requiring the ongoing fuel of anger or hatred. Those things are inwardly corrosive over time and tend to guide us to replace one unfortunate state of affairs with another, however well intentioned we might be. For more on this, see the history of revolutions.

Contentment says of the unpleasant, unfortunate, and unjust in the moment, "It is what it is." It takes a deep breath, gets back in touch with the best of inner motivations, like love and compassion, and goes to work with that oasis within needed for the longest stretches of travel through any arid desert.

Fulfillment is something different. It's experiencing an ongoing objective realization of your potential, and feeling that inside. It's objective before it's subjective. Whereas contentment is just an inner state, fulfillment is something in the outer world that reflects itself within. Put your talents to work for the good of others as well as yourse. Be a blessing to others. Work hard for justice and goodness and truth. And fulfillment will come, as long as that enemy of lingering discontent doesn't get and stay in the way.

Contentment and fultillment: Two foundations of that deep Aristotelian happiness that promotes excellence and full human flourishing in all things. May you experience both, in even the most trying of times.

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.

Respect. Honor. Goodwill. An Election Day Thought.

Respect, honor, and goodwill.

Friends! Remember in all your interactions with others today, the qualities of respect, honor, and goodwill. If the other person doesn't deserve these things, you do deserve them: to respect yourself in word and deed, honor the best within you, and lead the way in goodwill. Neither the weight of the world, nor the demands of national justice should be on your shoulders today. Dig deep. Reach high. Make yourself proud of your own kindness and grace in demeanor, tone, and word.

I've already had to turn the other cheek once this morning. I wanted to tell the guy to kiss that cheek, long and hard. But I didn't. I wished him well and offered a blessing. Remember Polonius and Hamlet, when the prince has just suggested that he treat some men well:

Polonius: My lord, I will use them according to their desert.

Hamlet: God's bodkins, man, much better! Use every man after his desert, and who should 'scape hanging? Use them after your own honor and dignity; the less they deserve, the more merit is in your bounty. Take them in.

Let's set an example today for how a person should act under trying and challenging circumstances. You may hear things that nearly make your blood boil. Overcome them with the power of your inner spirit. That person has likely lost or damaged theirs. You're the one who can set the example. 

Good Wishes for a Great Day. And may God bless America, not in accordance with our merit, but out of the abundance of divine bounty!

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.

Difficulty and Heroic Success

I flew to Austin, Texas recently, after talking to 100 doctors here in town, to speak to 300 bankers and software experts about success in changing times. On the four planes to get there and back, I read the amazing new book, Shoe Dog, by Phil Knight, about the founding of Nike, the great shoe and sports apparel company. Phil experienced more troubles, difficulties, bad surprises, terrible developments and unexpected shocks along the way than I've ever heard about in any business or work story. I told my wife that in every chapter it's almost like being chased by a rabid dog and escaping at the last second only to be hit by a car, having the EMTs come to get you and, on your way to the hospital, the ambulance gets swept away into a raging stream. When you finally get airlifted out of the river and make it to the ER, the building catches on fire around you. That would almost be one of Knight's good days in trying to start his company. And yet he kept plugging away. And he intuitively used a lot of ancient wisdom in his quest.
 
In case you don't know my 7 Cs of Success, or do and yet would benefit from having them in front of you for a moment, here they are.

In any challenge, with any worthy goal, we need:

C1: A clear CONCEPTION of what we want, a goal vividly imagined

C2: A strong CONFIDENCE that we can attain the goal

C3: A focused CONCENTRATION on what it will take to get there

C4: A stubborn CONSISTENCY in pursuing our vision

C5: An emotional COMMITMENT to the importance of what we're doing

C6: A good CHARACTER to guide us and keep us on a proper course

C7: A CAPACITY TO ENJOY the process along the way.

You can see all 7 Cs of Success at play in Phil Knight's heroic responses to awful situations, again and again. For years, he made almost no money and it constantly looked like his fledgling enterprise would go under and he'd lose his home and everything he'd worked for. Then, after fighting more battles than you can imagine, he was able to take the company public. By the end of the book, he was able to change sports in America and even our overall culture in many ways. Plus, he winds up with a personal financial worth of over 10 billion dollars—a result he hadn't even sought.
 
Well, we don't all get that pay-day, for sure, but Phil gives us an amazing example of how to persist and perform, day-to-day, even when things are so challenging that others can't imagine how we continue. It has to come from a strong belief and conviction that we're doing something vital and important, something meaningful that makes a difference. When your talents are matched up with a great quest, incredible things can happen. So be of good cheer, and keep hope alive, as you use the wisdom of the ages to power yourself forward!

Patriotic Citizenship at its Best

A few years ago, after 9-11, when everyone was debating patriotism and what it is, I wrote a little essay called “The Everyday Patriot: How to be a Great American Now” and privately printed it for friends and clients. One of the main themes was that patriotism isn’t about nationalism or xenophobic jingoism. It’s not an us-versus-them mentality. It’s not essentially a polarized form of thinking and feeling at all. Not at its best. It’s rather a matter of cultivating the garden we’re in, for the greater good of all. And it’s about voting every day—with our time, attention, energy, and thoughtfulness. That allows us to vote better when the ballot box is available.

Citizenship isn’t the remote, airy abstraction that it’s come to be for most of us. It’s an essentially participatory role. We’re not supposed to be on the sidelines, appraising those on the field and either cheering in support or booing. We’re supposed to be on the field of action ourselves, engaged in the big game.

Consider what’s going on in Charlotte right now. Patriots don’t riot against their neighbors. Engaged citizens find a way to make their voices heard without ripping up their own gardens and destroying their communities. But we’ve forgotten our civic duties. If we think of government at all, it’s either as a big drain on our resources, almost a necessary evil, or else an institution we can call on for help. But in a democracy, we all are the government at its most fundamental level. That’s the most basic truth of self-government. That’s why I pick up litter when I’m out on a walk. The little things add up. It’s also why I write a representative when I think action needs to be taken. And I don’t do nearly enough. Most of us don’t. We need to cultivate the garden more.

So today, perhaps let yourself dwell on that image. Our garden needs tending. Just remember the old adage: Great gardeners live in beautiful places because they make them so. And go vote every day.

Our Blindness

We're all blind to something. This election year proves it anew, in case you ever doubted it. But what we're blind to varies, all over the map. We're each self deceived in some way, and we're all vulnerable to the deceptions of others in a related manner. But it all starts within. We're masters of tricking ourselves through the subtle diverting of attention, that easy assumption, a longstanding resentment, an unexpressed hope, or the righteous indignation toward others that often masks our true need to rectify and reform ourselves.

The most self deceived person of all is the one who sees deception only in the lives of others, and never in his or her own heart and mind. To be blind to your own blindness is a most dangerous state indeed.

Our inability to see damages our relationships, our families, and our work. It fractures our communities and threatens our nation, as well as our world. The insight and empathy so desperately needed for a situation just may not be available when something deep occludes your vision.

But our blindness can be healed. And in every case, it's at least at bottom, a spiritual matter. Spirituality is all about depth and connectedness. It's liberated from the superficial or the alienated. It has counterfeits, of course, that are just in the thrall of other things. But true spirituality is free from such blockage, free from the worst forms of blindness, and therefore free for attaining healthy forms of unity. It's connected with others through kindness, compassion, love, and understanding. Jesus taught its necessity. And so have many other great individuals whose lives we most admire.

Plato urged us to leave the dark cave of delusions and dim appearances to journey in search of the light we need. And so did Pascal. In our time, we need their wisdom more than ever.

Amen?

What is Existence?

I tend to blog on practical topics. But every now and then, we may benefit from diving deep. I was recently on a public broadcasting radio show where the host launched the hour of talk by asking "What is the meaning of life?" I said something like, "Wow, we're not going to start small here today." And, yeah, in case you're wondering, I told her the answer. But that's for another time.

My favorite Southern novelist asked me this week by email how I would define or characterize existence. And that's quite a question. To define existence is such a bear because, in order to be helpful, definitions have to be in terms of either more fundamental things or more familiar things. And what's more of either than existence? But what you can’t define or analyze into component parts, you can sometimes still elucidate or parse. And I'm willing to give it a try.

So: What is existence? Well. Let's try some things.

Existence is the wild unruliest child of thought, which thinks first itself.
Existence is whatever makes illusion possible.
Existence is the great grandfather of thought.
Existence is the domain encompassing all of necessity and a thin sliver of possibility, stirred and shaken.
Existence is the actualization of all the potential that just could not wait any longer.
Existence is the gossamer veil of reality that floats within the vast emptiness of surrounding nothingness.
Existence is the thick, rich, dense soup of the actual.
Existence is the play of divine creativity.
Existence is the actualized realization of potentiality.
Existence is the most basic quality everything shares, down deep, throughout, and shimmering on the surface.
Existence is the ontological moment, the evanescent bubble of being, the knife’s edge between the future and the past.
Existence is what bricks, dogs, numbers and rainbows have in common.
Existence is etymologically to stand out, to rise above the boiling yet somehow nonexistent abstract cauldron of mere possibility, breaking the thin eggshell of mere potential and emerging, whether for a brief moment or an eternity.
Existence is the sparkling foam from the roiling void beneath.

Existence is the gift of God, but a gift that's in the giver and giving as well as the receiving—that one unique metaphysical gift that calls forth the recipients one and all, inviting us to the party, and bringing us here with love and a fierce hope that we'll make the most of this most spectacular present.

The Peace of Mind From Living Deeply

Here’s a short conversation I want to share because of its relevance in our current political season. It’s a sneak preview from page 106 in my next book, The Stone of Giza, that’s due out soon, in November. The setting is 1934 in Cairo, Egypt. Thirteen year old Walid and his best friend, the younger but precocious Mafulla, are having breakfast together and talking. You may or may not yet know these characters from the previous books, The Oasis Within and The Golden Palace.

The boys have been talking about the Greek philosophers and their insights about life. The topic of superficiality has come up, and by contrast, what it’s like to live more deeply than just skimming the surface of life.

Walid is in mid-thought when he says:

“I had a talk with Uncle Ali once when he said that maybe life is toughest on the surface and much less difficult for those who live more deeply. It’s like what people say about the ocean.”

“What?”

“That there can be huge waves and churning on the surface, but deep down it’s calm.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah. The storms happen on the surface, but not far down below.”

“Oh, yeah. Ok. I see what you’re saying. Maybe people who live more deeply feel the troubles of life less and so have less need for trivial relaxations.”

“Yep. That’s what I’m thinking.”

“So it’s living superficially that wears people out because that’s where all the turbulence is.”

“Yeah.”

“And whenever the surface dwellers do confront anything hard or challenging and try to understand it, however little time they end up spending on that philosophical quest, they just don’t do it right—they don’t know how to because they’re out of their depth—and even a little bit of that sort of thought wears them out completely. And then they go running to something really trivial or superficial for rest.”

Walid pondered this for a moment. “I think you’re right. People who don’t ordinarily live life deeply can get all worked up about the least thing when they’re talking religion or politics or philosophy or life. They get all stressed and emotionally wear themselves out for no good reason. It’s like they think they have to protect themselves by either pushing away the issues or else really defending their opinions, whatever they might be. They get all resistant and hostile, and that’s always exhausting.”

Mafulla nodded and said, “It can get emotional pretty fast.”

Walid continued, “People who act that way just don’t realize that you sometimes have to relax into the search for truth, open your mind, and be ready to embrace a new sense of reality.”

“Good point.”

“There’s no reason to be afraid of new perspectives and new truth. Living in the truth is the best protection of all, the safest thing there is. And anyone who can help me do that, maybe by opening my eyes, or helping me change and correct wrong beliefs or attitudes—that person does me a great favor. And I can’t benefit from others in this way unless I relax a little and listen and really open my mind.”

Mafulla replied, “Yeah, it’s a bit like what Masoon says about judo and using energy in a fight.”

“What do you mean?”

“When someone comes at you, sometimes the best move is to relax and lie back and let the blow develop—don’t resist it, don’t meet it with more force, but let it play out, and then see what’s next. People often debate deep issues in religion and philosophy like they’re fighting for their lives and they’ve got to be tense and forceful, or they just get mad and walk away.”

“That’s true.”

“The strange thing is that it would often be best for them not to do any of that at all, but to be open and allow the new ideas to come, and let them develop and play out and then see what’s next.”

“Yeah. And there’s another thing about the Greeks and us.”

“What?”

“Lots of people, at least as adults, just seem to have no genuine curiosity about the world. The ancient Greeks were wide-open curious about everything.”

“You got that right, my very curious friend and fellow philosopher.”

“Thanks. If people would just let us, we could set them all straight real quick.” Walid looked serious and then grinned.

Flannery O’Connor and The Limits of Political Reasoning

In the early 1940s, a young southern writer by the name of Flannery O’Connor spun a tale about an extremist politician and his base that resonates deeply today.

An election campaign is on for the governorship of a southern state. Every time the mild mannered college teacher Rayber goes to get a shave or a haircut, the men who work in the local barbershop are talking and laughing about their favorite candidate, the wildly racist strongman, Mr. Hawkson, known as “Hawk,” and they often repeat with enthusiasm something outrageous he’s just said at a public rally.

Hawk’s campaign is all bluster and insults. He’s got pet-names for his opponents, diminishing “effeminate” epithets that his followers relish and love to repeat. The head barber at one point says that all his talks are “killeroos,” as he recounts to the roomful of chortling and celebrating men some of their candidate’s most recent racist statements. Rayber is shocked that they’re speaking so crudely while quiet George, a young African American man, sweeps the floor of the shop toward the back. The professor has to speak up.

“A great many people,” Rayber said, “consider Hawk a demagogue.” He wondered if George knew what demagogue meant. He should have said “lying politician.”

“Demagogue!” The barber slapped his knee and whooped. “That’s what Hawk said!” he howled. “Ain’t that a shot! ‘Folks,’ he says, ‘them Mother Hubbards says I’m a demagogue.’ Then he rears back and says sort of soft-like, ‘Am I a demagogue, you people?’ And they yells, ’Naw, Hawk, you ain’t no demagogue!’ And he comes forward shouting, ‘Oh yeah I am, I’m the best damn demagogue in this state!” And you should hear them people roar! Whew!”

Rayber is stunned. He doesn’t know what to say. There are so many issues at stake in this election. There are too many obvious things deeply wrong about this man, Hawk. The progressive but timid college teacher can’t figure out where to start. He wishes the barber would read some things. The man says he doesn’t have to read nothing. All he has to do is think, using horse sense. No big words are going to make any difference. Doesn’t Rayber know that Hawk is gonna keep those other people in their place and make sure everybody like him and the teacher make more money if he’s elected? Rayber tries to point out that a little extra money isn’t going to mean anything if the state collapses under the weight of Hawk’s total incompetence and crazy beliefs. So he vows to defend his own sensible candidate some time soon in the barbershop and enlighten all of them. The barbers laugh more and say that he just can’t use the phrase ‘goodgovermint.’ That’s not allowed, they snicker.

Rayber goes home and writes a two page statement about the vast differences between the candidates. At first, it’s hard. The real issues are so obvious. Where should he begin? How do these men not see such things already? He laboriously writes out what’s wrong with Hawk and what’s right about the clearly better candidate, the reasonable and progressive Darmon. He then takes this little two page speech to a friend, the philosophy professor Jacobs, explains what’s going on, and reads it aloud to practice and get some feedback. The philosopher says, simply, “I never argue.” Rayber insists: But what if you’re right? “I never argue,” Jacobs repeats, knowing the futility of what his friend is attempting.

Our hero goes back to the barbershop and reads his treatise aloud, hoping to refute and reform these men, using the real issues and clear reason. They laugh and laugh and laugh. In the end, he punches the barber and runs out of the shop.

The seventeenth century French scientist Blaise Pascal, as well as the prominent eighteenth century British philosopher David Hume, both understood that, for most people, reason is the servant of passion and can rarely undermine or overturn its commitments. Emotion trumps all. So when a political candidate appeals to the basest and most fundamental fears, resentments, and sources of personal bitterness, no amount or quality of reasoning can possibly make a difference. You either walk away, or someone throws a punch.

It’s a sad commentary on the human condition. And in this classic story, “The Barber,” Flannery O’Connor anticipated well what’s going on in our current presidential election. She captures in the character of Rayber the total confidence of progressives in being right, the accompanying astonishment that anyone could possibly support someone like Hawk, and our often Quixotic approach to any attempt at explaining what’s what and turning things around.

Aristotle believed that politics is about how best to live well together. As such, in principle, political discussion should be among the most ennobling forms of discourse. When I recently suggested this during a breakfast in New York City at a table of corporate leaders overlooking the Statue of Liberty, everyone laughed so suddenly and loudly I thought a few might choke on their eggs. There can clearly be a huge gap between theory and practice. And it's one we're all experiencing quite vividly right now. And yet, despite Rayber’s ratiocinative failure in the story, and my own experience of strict limits in similar efforts throughout the current campaign, I remain stubbornly convinced that cool and sensible reason has a role to play. Or else, our democracy is doomed. And if you happen to disagree, please don’t tell me. I’d hate for somebody to have to get punched.