I'll Rise Up and Fly

When I was young
I thought I could fly.
If I ran just right,
I'd rise into the sky
and go over the yard and the house
and the trees
until, floating a bit,
I'd catch a good breeze
and neighbors would see
and squint into the sun
and say "Come here and look
at what this kid has done!"
I'd continue to rise
and with such a big smile
my grin could be viewed
at least for a mile.
And, even today
I think, if I try,
the time may yet come
when I'll rise up and fly.

I've posted this little reflection before, and bring it to you again because of how it captures an aspiration deep in the soul for something lofty and noble. My childhood fantasy and true belief can continue to inspire me to rise high in the world of the spirit. I hope it can touch you with the same reminder of early dreams and ongoing possibilities. TM

My Favorite Book. Ever.

Yesterday, in a magazine interview over the phone, the writer asked me, “What’s your favorite book?” I actually get asked that a lot and never before knew what to say. I have lots of favorites. But I just may have discovered my favorite novel of all time and perhaps even my single favorite book, excluding of course, The Bible, which should never be a part of such comparisons in the first place, for several reasons. And I’ve learned that my new favorite book is considered a classic, though I’ve never heard of it before. It looks like a book for children, and in particular, for little girls. But it’s out now in a beautiful edition that the former little girl in our home had owned for years. Anna Bond, a family friend at Rifle Paper Company in Winter Park, Florida designed the new cover. Look them up if you don’t know their amazing work.

Anyway, the book is A Little Princess, by Frances Hobson Burnett, and was first published in 1905. It portrays the unlikely adventures of a young girl in London who, after living a charmed first stretch of life, is thrust into challenging, bleak and difficult circumstances beyond anything she could have anticipated. And yet, she uses the amazing power of the imagination, and the equally great power of good manners, and ultimately true kindness, to prevail over all. It’s one of the best books I’ve ever come across on inner resilience and the power of the mind. It’s charming, and even heartwarming, but most of all, it’s deeply wise.

Let me give you a sample, although excerpts can’t really convey the impact of the expertly told story, whose lessons often come through in subtle ways. In one scene, the headmistress of her school, Miss Minchin, speaks to young Sara, the elegant princess of our title, with great harshness, heaping on untrue and unfair accusations, while Sara listens without any sign of anger, hurt, agitation, or reply. She then muses over her own restraint, and especially on the fact that, unlike most people, she doesn’t answer the unjust accusations.

"As to answering, though," said Sara, trying to console herself, "I don't answer very often. I never answer when I can help it. When people are insulting you, there is nothing so good for them as not to say a word—just to look at them and THINK. Miss Minchin turns pale with rage when I do it, Miss Amelia looks frightened, and so do the girls. When you will not fly into a passion, people know you are stronger than they are, because you are strong enough to hold in your rage, and they are not, and they say stupid things they wish they hadn't said afterward. There's nothing so strong as rage, except what makes you hold it in—that's stronger. It's a good thing not to answer your enemies. I scarcely ever do. (Puffin Edition, 147)

And another, longer, passage, after a particularly shocking development:

Then a thought came back to her which made the color rise in her cheek and a spark light itself in her eyes. She straightened her thin little body and lifted her head.

 "Whatever comes," she said, "cannot alter one thing. If I am a princess in rags and tatters, I can be a princess inside. It would be easy to be a princess if I were dressed in cloth of gold, but it is a great deal more of a triumph to be one all the time when no one knows it. There was Marie Antoinette when she was in prison and her throne was gone and she had only a black gown on, and her hair was white, and they insulted her and called her Widow Capet. She was a great deal more like a queen then than when she was so gay and everything was so grand. I like her best then. Those howling mobs of people did not frighten her. She was stronger than they were, even when they cut her head off."

 This was not a new thought, but quite an old one, by this time. It had consoled her through many a bitter day, and she had gone about the house with an expression in her face which Miss Minchin could not understand and which was a source of great annoyance to her, as it seemed as if the child were mentally living a life which held her above the rest of the world. It was as if she scarcely heard the rude and acid things said to her; or, if she heard them, did not care for them at all. Sometimes, when she was in the midst of some harsh, domineering speech, Miss Minchin would find the still, unchildish eyes fixed upon her with something like a proud smile in them. At such times she did not know that Sara was saying to herself: "You don't know that you are saying these things to a princess, and that if I chose I could wave my hand and order you to execution. I only spare you because I am a princess, and you are a poor, stupid, unkind, vulgar old thing, and don't know any better."

 This used to interest and amuse her more than anything else; and queer and fanciful as it was, she found comfort in it and it was a good thing for her. While the thought held possession of her, she could not be made rude and malicious by the rudeness and malice of those about her. "A princess must be polite," she said to herself.

 And so when the servants, taking their tone from their mistress, were insolent and ordered her about, she would hold her head erect and reply to them with a quaint civility which often made them stare at her.

 "She's got more airs and graces than if she come from Buckingham Palace, that young one," said the cook, chuckling a little sometimes. "I lose my temper with her often enough, but I will say she never forgets her manners. 'If you please, cook'; 'Will you be so kind, cook?' 'I beg your pardon, cook'; 'May I trouble you, cook?' She drops 'em about the kitchen as if they was nothing." (pages 164-5)

Our Princess thinks of herself as protected by a sort of benevolent magic. She once says, "Somehow, something always happens," she cried, "just before things get to the very worst. It is as if the Magic did it. If I could only just remember that always. The worst thing never QUITE comes." (page 220)

If you treat yourself to this magnificent little book, you’ll be glad, and you'll feel Sara's Magic.

http://amzn.to/2pebli9

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.

Dinner with Jeb Bush

I had chicken. He had a baked sweet potato with kale or something else equally exciting.

So. Yeah. I was having dinner with Jeb Bush the other night, along with a few friends, and was explaining to him that I'm not at a university any more, but for 22 years have been an independent philosopher. He said, "Wait. People PAY you for that?" I should have said, "Not enough." But I just said, "Yeah, for a long time now." He couldn't quite wrap his mind around it, even though he's often said to be the bright son in the family. He had to ask again: "Let me get clear on this. You can make a living by just being a philosopher?" Yeah. I know. It's strange. But, hey, so far: Mission Accomplished.

And yet, like Socrates, I'd do it even if nobody ever paid me a penny. I'd surely have to do something else in addition, as many philosophers of the past did. Even Socrates had bills to pay. You need a new toga now and then. Or a tunic. But the vital issues of our lives, the ultimate questions of this life and beyond, are just that important to me. And it's also important for me to share the answers I get with anyone who will listen. For the first two years that I unexpectedly became a public speaker to business and civic groups, like Ralph Waldo Emerson about a century and a half ago, I spoke without any charge. It was fun. And meaningful. I just wanted to do some good. And Notre Dame was paying the bills. Barely. But then the fun activity turned into a thriving business and allowed me to move back to my home state near family and live at the coast, like Epictetus when he himself was freed from the grind. Full time pondering at the beach. It's hard to beat.

And I really appreciate you all who read these little postings, now and then, where I often just put up small ideas that have occurred to me as I sit at my computer. I can't always be out giving talks across the country. I love to be at home. And posting like this gives me a chance to still interact during the day, even when I'm mostly writing or editing a book. So thanks for reading and commenting. I think this way of doing philosophy would make more sense to Jeb, because no money whatsoever is exchanged over it. Just like politics, right? Cheers!

More Random Morning Thoughts

Too many people condemn things they don't understand, mistaking a lack of grasp for a grasp of lack.

Sympathetic understanding is a spiritual discipline that can be transformative.

We’re here to expand our perspectives, our knowledge, our wisdom, our compassion, and thus our souls.

Depending on your outer circumstances for your inner peace is always a mistake. The turbulence of events around us can never produce the calm we need.

True peace comes from deep within, but can never bubble all the way to the surface if there are obstacles in the way. I should regularly ask what obstacles are in my heart.

The oasis within each of us needs cultivation. And only we can do the inner work to keep it in good condition.

Harmony strengthens. Disharmony weakens. A proper pursuit of truth, goodness, beauty, and unity is thus not unrelated to our other goals.

Souls can be tuned together, as we sometimes see on championship sports teams or, much more rarely, in business. Such harmony is peak power and a way of joy.

A Few Morning Thoughts.

Reading, done right, is transformative.

Listening well is a spiritual discipline. It connects people deeply.

Our own timelines rarely match the pace of events. A measure of patience can be helpful to synch up the inner and the outer.

No matter what you do, there are some people you can never reach. It's not your fault. Let it go and move on.

If someone slights you or insults you, it's more often about them than it is about you. Healthy souls respect others and show kindness.

The unknown is where the greatest things happen. And yet, most people are afraid to venture there. Curiosity and the boldness of love can alone launch out well and conquer.

Courage is often a small inclination of the heart toward what's right and what needs to be done. It's not flashy or heroic. It's just good.

Most of us have a self awareness deficit that hamstrings our ability to do good in the world. That's why Socrates said, "Know yourself!"

Yes. The world is as it is. However, nevertheless, you are worthy of high thoughts, lofty deeds, and lovingkindness in your own heart.

Don't let the news or gossip or the siren song of social media distract you from your own proper path. Anything that stops you robs us all.

We should be thankful from our first conscious breath each day. There's good to be done, beauty to be seen, and love to be shown.

Joy and Some Random Thoughts

Joy isn't properly viewed as an endpoint, but as an energy like no other, a fuel that can propel us to our best and highest achievements.

Love and justice should be the currents along which our spirits flow. Only those waters will take us where we need to go.

The philosopher Epictetus reminded us that we all need liberation from something. We're all chained down by something. Wisdom breaks chains.

Habits of thought underlie habits of action, and either can imprison us in a small dark cell, when the broad bright world outside awaits us.

If half the energy devoted to crime and scam was redirected toward productive good, the world would change quickly for the better.

We've always known that love is the most powerful force in the world. So why do our leaders proceed so often through threats that sow hate?

When will the world wake up to understand that anger and violence never themselves improve anything? They plant seeds for more problems.

The greatest gift you can give yourself is time to be quiet, relaxed, and peaceful. That gift, in turn, can give you all that you need.

The best doing arises out of the deepest being. Constant busyness will not allow for peak excellence or the highest joy. Learn to just be.

It's important to be able to calm your conscious thoughts, make your mind a blank, and get out of your own way now and then. Then, the magic.

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 Passion for Excellence

Chef Anthony Bourdain has hosted a great new series of short films on the passion and impressive craftsmanship that can lie behind amazing handmade items. In one episode, he talks to a tailor who mentions the thousand of stitches a customer will never be aware of. I could relate to that as an author. In editing my novels, I spend hours a day taking out or putting in punctuation marks, or a word, or a phrase. The reader will never know how many thousands of such decisions I've made in polishing the flow of language meant to evoke mental pictures and spiritual insights. But these choices will have done their work unseen and unknown. And each is important. Mastery, in the end, is all about the little details that may never be noticed by anyone other than the master. But they make for excellence.

The tailor episode link is below. I'd guess these films are less than 6 minutes each. You'll be treated by each to new insights.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Jks5VHQ9Q0o

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.

Faith

Here's an excerpt from The Ancient Scroll, scheduled for publication in 18 months or so. Bob Archdale is North Carolina boy who is serving as a Methodist minister in New York City in 1935. Juan Santiago is his name for a man with amnesia who showed up at the church and is now serving as a custodian. It's been a long day for Bob. He's taking a break and found Juan reading a book in the kitchen of the church. They greet each other.

Archdale paused for a moment and then said, “Do you want to hear a short story?”

“Yes, that would be nice.” Santiago put a piece of paper in the book he was holding, to mark his place, and closed it.

Archdale sat down in another chair at the table and said, “Once, when I was a young man, I was at the ocean, in southeastern North Carolina, not far from where I lived, walking on the beach. I was enjoying all the sights and sounds of the day—the graceful, but sometimes noisy, ocean birds, the white caps on the water, the wispy clouds decorating the bright blue sky. I remember the sun was warm on my face. Then, suddenly, it occurred to me that I should try an experiment in faith.”

“Oh?”

“That moment, I stopped in my tracks and looked at the line of the water off to my left, fairly straight and even for at least a mile or more ahead of me. Then I closed my eyes. I stepped forward in the faith that I could walk along the shore in a straight line without seeing, as I moved forward.”

“How was this walk of faith?” Santiago asked, with a smile.

Archdale laughed and said, “I walked only about fifteen steps before I had to open my eyes to see where I was.”

Santiago laughed. “I understand.”

Archdale smiled and explained, “The inner pressure was too great. I gave in to my uncertainty. But then, I thought to myself, ‘This is no good, I have no faith.’ And I decided to close my eyes for fifty steps. That was my clear goal. I walked, and I counted, and it was hard. I wanted desperately to sneak a peek at where I was. The desire to know almost made me dizzy. And that really bothered me. So, standing motionless for a moment and with my eyes still closed, I inwardly screwed up my courage and I said to myself, ‘One hundred more steps—no sight, just feel: for one hundred more paces.’

“Oh, my,” Juan said.

“Yes. I had to defeat this need in me. I had to have faith! So, I started walking forward again with my eyes still closed, and once more I began to count. At thirty more steps, I felt a new form of light pressure in my soul; at forty, more pressure; at fifty, my mind begged me to stop and I felt almost dizzy again, but I kept going. The inner stress of the unknown grew with each successive step. And by the time I got to eighty paces, it was almost painful to put a foot forward again on that path I could not see. Something in my mind was begging me to stop and open my eyes. There was a lack of trust that was almost screaming out to me.”

“What happened then?” Santiago said. “You were so close. Did you make it?”

“At ninety paces, my head nearly started to throb. I panicked. I thought, ‘This is crazy!’ But it was real. So I took a deep breath to calm myself. And I kept going. ‘I'm stronger than this,’ I said to myself. At one hundred steps, I stopped. I had made it.  I opened my eyes, looking first at my feet. It was such a relief! I felt like a huge weight had been lifted from me. But when I looked up and noticed where I was, I was so surprised!”

“Why?” Santiago asked. “Where were you?”

“By a lake on the side of a mountain in Tibet.”

“What?”

“I’m just kidding.”

“Oh! You had me going there for a second.”

“Thank you. I do my best. It wasn’t actually anything that shocking, but it was a surprise. Unknowingly, I had been walking a crooked path, diagonally oriented to the water, moving ever closer toward it. Thinking that I was going straight and parallel to the water’s edge, I had veered at an angle moving toward the surf, as if it had been calling me beneath my conscious awareness. Or it could have been the gentle slant of the sand down to the water, which was so gradual that I was altogether unaware of it at the time. But that very state of unawareness may have participated in allowing it to have an effect on me that I didn’t feel. And that, I think, is why the great spiritual traditions have always stressed the importance of awareness.”

“Very interesting. So, unaware of the forces that had been impinging on you, your path was diverted by them.”

“Yes, I think so. But, whatever the cause, I had gotten way off track.”

"Just as you did a moment ago in telling the story,” Santiago said with a straight face.

“Indeed. Touché!” Archdale laughed and continued, “In that moment of surprise, in my real version of Tibet, but on the beach, it came to me that, without any clear vision to guide us in life, we’ll almost inevitably veer off course. We’ll wander and get out of line, ending up some place we don’t want to be. We can be pulled and nudged by any force that impinges on us, whether we’re aware of it or not, and especially if we’re not. But with our eyes wide open, we can much more likely walk a straight path.”

“That’s very wise. And what conclusion did you draw about faith?” Santiago asked.

“Ah. That was big for me. Authentic faith doesn’t involve just blindly moving forward with no use of the resources you have available to you. Trusting providence doesn’t mean refusing to use what you’ve been given. In fact, it’s quite the contrary. Right then and there, I immediately said to myself, ‘Bob, my good man, always look where you're going. Have a clear vision for your life that’s inspired by the best you can learn. Pay attention to where you are. Consider where you need to be. Look for how to get there. Eyes wide open. Use what you have. And use it well. And then have faith that you’ll receive whatever guidance and support along the way that you need.’ The faith I was experimenting with that day with my eyes closed was really just faith in myself, in my own abilities and orientation. And that doesn't work without also having faith in something greater as well, and a clear view of things.”

“Very good,” Santiago said.

Archdale continue, “I realized, standing so near the water, that blind faith is not what’s asked of us in this life, but faith combined with clear sight—faith with vision: a deep trust that operates with full awareness.”

“Nice,” his guest said, nodding his head. “Very nice, indeed.”

“Thank you, my friend. If I had continued my little experiment in blind faith, I could have walked right into the water, and the whole thing would have ended with a form of baptism I would not have expected!”

Santiago laughed and said, “I like your story.”

Archdale admitted, “I’ve used it in sermons more than once over the years.”

Soul-Sucking Work

A friend said today that he works in a soul sucking environment. And I decided to pass on to him a paraphrase of some advice a guy named Boethius got in the year 524. He was also in a soul sucking situation, sitting in prison on a false charge, lamenting his fate, and Philosophy came to visit him—in the form of a beautiful lady. She brought him a great and useful perspective on his fall from wealth and political prominence into the small stark cell that now held him, as he awaited an unjust execution. And he wrote up the advice that comforted him in a small book that still speaks to us today, a book called The Consolation of Philosophy.

So here's my wild and loose paraphrase of the big picture advice for anyone who feels like they're in "a soul sucking environment," and working for hostile people.

If they've got a straw, don't be a soda. Don't even be a shake. Be instead, a thick steak. Don't fit into any straw. Your soul is not anyone else's to take away.

So, Ok, Lady Philosophy is a little more detailed. But that's what it comes down to. When we build up our own inner wisdom and virtue, no environment can suck away our vital spirits, or the essence of our soul. We become transformative instead. And then, perhaps the environment will stop sucking. At least, for us. But if they go for a knife and fork, take care.

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.

The Keynote Philosopher

This is the season when I begin to fill in my speaking schedule for the year. It always makes me smile. I look back in great enjoyment of all the audiences in the past 12 to 24 months, and look ahead to all the good that can be accomplished with the most practical philosophy in the context of modern business throughout 2017. I've done the joyous work of a public philosopher now for more than 25 years. And I love to see how the wisdom of the ages always has a huge positive impact. 

I want to thank all of you who have invited me in the past to speak to your group, whether it was an audience of 10 people or 10,000. It's always a great experience, from an hour keynote to half a day's workshop. If you have a meeting coming up and would like to talk about my being a part of it, come by www.TomVMorris.com, look over the topics I most often address, scan recent clients and testimonials, and let me know about your group. As a contemporary thinker myself, I can always tailor a presentation to exactly your needs, or create a new talk around your chief concerns.

All the time, people ask me such things as: Did the great thinkers of the past have any secrets about dealing with challenging change? Can you explain how such a difficult person as Steve Jobs had such incredible success in his lifetime? Is there any deep philosophical insight available on the issue of life balance? What makes for the best and most powerful company cultures? What creates loyalty inside a business, and with clients? What do our leaders need to know right now about the deepest wellsprings of human nature? How can we best deal with the various uncertainties we face?

In our time of great change, challenge, and immense uncertainty, we all need the sure guidance of ideas that have stood the test of time. The best wisdom of the past can lead us into the future like nothing else. And we can have a great time together considering the insights that we may need right now. For me, it's always a special experience. There's nothing like telling a story, laughing a lot together, and then seeing the wisdom of the great philosophers honored so often with a long, loud standing ovation. Plato would be pleased.

The topics that have been the most enthusiastically received in the past year include:

True Success: The Art of Achievement in Times of Change

Plato's Lemonade Stand: Stirring Change into Something Great

The Four Foundations of Greatness

The Essential Jobs@Work: Leadership Secrets from Steve Jobs

It's an amazing experience to follow in the footsteps of Ralph Waldo Emerson in traveling the country and various parts of the world, speaking to companies, associations, civic groups, universities, and conventions of all kinds, as well as to small gatherings of CEOs and leaders across industries. I see the same needs in every context, because human nature is universal. And so are our challenges. It's amazing what we can learn from Lao Tsu, or Aristotle, or Seneca, or Emerson himself that may be just the thing to give us the edge we need now. And in every situation, I'm thrilled to be the keynote philosopher who can make a difference.

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.