Wisdom and Virtue

The most dangerous things in our time may be counterfeit wisdom and faux virtue. Without real wisdom and virtue, there is no peace, no authentic partnership, no true courage, no genuine friendship, and no chance at all for any deep and abiding happiness.

Wisdom and Virtue: Simple. Elusive. Vital.

Rumination

Our noun comes from a Latin verb meaning "to chew." In the life of the mind, rumination is chewing over some idea or problem thoroughly. And that can be a very good thing to do.

But as with nearly all good things, rumination is subject to the Double Power Principle. The power it has for good is matched by the power it has for ill. I recently read a short article about the downside that's manifested in the mental activity of going over and over and over something that's negative in your life—mulling it, stewing over it, pondering it, trying to figure it out, repeatedly sensing anew how wrong it is, and endlessly asking, "Why has this happened to me?" Here's the problem. When the situation is something you can't control or even act on productively, rumination can become a very unhealthy habit. A better approach is to act on what you can control and walk away from what you can't control. Sure, seek to understand it. But then: Drop it. Forget about it. Move along.

Sometimes, we break out of the chains of rumination best when we find other things to do, creative projects, fun activities, any alternative things to keep our minds busy. Rumination has its place. But out of place, it can turn into a destructive loop of obsessive thoughts. The good news is that our thoughts are ultimately up to us. It make take effort, but with enough work, we can keep ourselves on a healthier track.

Go Deep. Be Wise.

It's time we stopped defining ourselves and others by our opinions, our beliefs, and even our knowledge, or ignorance. It's as bad as defining anyone by color or ethnic origin or gender. We're much more than that. And we have to look more deeply in order for understanding and compassion and love to get a firm hold in our lives.

It's also time we stopped defining ourselves by the perspectives and habits that have worked well for us in the past. We too easily fall in love with our own mindsets and frameworks, intoxicated by the sweet smell of their success. When we learn to hold more loosely to all our property, and that includes our "intellectual property," we then become more open to the new and perhaps superior path that a subtle form of arrogance or comfort would otherwise block us from seeing.

The moral structure of the spirit requires us to be closed off to very few things and their implications. Otherwise, to be open is to be empowered. To go deep is to be wise.

Developmental Epistemology.

One of the most important things I came to realize in graduate school eons ago at Yale was that there are, throughout life, conditions and preconditions for knowing. The basic idea is simple. Not everyone can, at any given time, know just anything. Little kids don't know algebra. A six year old doesn't understand the job of a comptroller. The deeper realization is that, all through life, there are developmental conditions for knowing. The first time I looked through a microscope, I saw only my own eyelashes and some blurs. I didn't know how to look, or how to see in that context, properly.

Time and experience led me to understand that there are also moral, aesthetic, and spiritual conditions for knowing. If you've not grown in the right ways, you won't be able to see certain things, or understand them, even if you do see them.

For example, a malignant narcissist can't even understand what's wrong with his actions. He also can't fathom the motivations of altruism. Likewise, a superficial materialist can't understand things of the spirit. Even a religious person may not grasp the deeper matters and perspectives of faith. It depends on whether they've grown yet into the requisite conditions for knowing.

There's an assumption of epistemological egalitarianism in our world that's just false. We aren't all equals in knowing, at any given time. Some of us are farther along than others of us. But there is, in principle, an equality of opportunity to develop appropriately with regard to the basics needed for true wisdom in daily life. The road is there. We just need to walk it.

Remember this when you're in conversation with another person who just does not seem to "get" what you're talking about. There may be an epistemic gap, an incomprehension that can't in that moment be breached. Further growth is needed. Patience may be required. And compassion.

Wisdom

Wisdom.

When you hear or see that word, what do you think? Far too many people seem to mostly draw nearly a blank these days. If asked what it means, they might hesitantly venture that wisdom has something to do with age, or insight, or a calm and peaceful perspective on things. But it seems to be a word and a concept on the far periphery of our culture now. And that's the opposite of how things should be.

Wisdom isn't an extra swirl on the icing of the cake representing a good life well lived. It's a main ingredient of any such cake whatsoever.

There have been times and places of greater perspicacity where wisdom was seen as the ultimate edge in life, or in business, or in all political and military affairs. Look at the book of Proverbs in the Bible. Wisdom is praised as precious beyond all other things. A Japanese proverb states that wisdom and virtue are the two wheels of a cart. In my view, you can't have one without the other. And you can't have either without at least some measure of the additional quality of love praised by top saints and sages—that compassionate care and concern for ourselves and others that lifts us above the petty and degrading squabbles and needless anxieties of this world.

My job is to bring people more wisdom for their lives. And this is more of a challenge than you might imagine. I used to think that people pursue what they need and what they want. I now realize that we pursue only what we KNOW we need and what we want. And too many people in our day have no realization that they need wisdom for the journey. They think that "basic common sense" is all they need, and they have too low a standard even for what constitutes that.

Help me bring an appreciation for wisdom back to the culture at a time when we all greatly need it—across demographics, professions, genders, political parties, industries, and races. Its absence grows increasingly dangerous as the world rambles and meanders forward without its guidance.

People or Principles?

What's more important, the principle or the person?

I was in a fascinating discussion the other day with some university deans. I had just introduced them to my 7 Cs of Success (for more on them, go to the web page located at my site, http://www.tomvmorris.com/the7csofsuccess/. We were talking about successful individuals and organizations and what makes for their success, consulting the wisdom of the ages.

One of the deans asked something that posed an interesting question: What's most important, people or principles? In his well known book Good to Great, Jim Collins talks about the crucial importance of, in his favorite metaphor, getting the right people on the bus, and then getting them into the right seats. In the recent political election, I found myself reminding people over and over that you can vote for principles and policies only by voting for people you have good reason to think you can trust to implement those principles and policies. So, considering Collins and politics both, it can seem like principles have to take a back seat to people. If you want a great business or great team, hire the right people. Principles like the 7 Cs may be interesting, on this line of thought, but are never the most important.

It's an interesting line of thought. But my reply is that the people we deem to be best for our teams and organizations are precisely those individuals who have, however explicitly or intuitively, lived and worked in accordance with what I call The 7 Cs of Success, which crucially include a Character condition, from which trustworthiness grows. In the end, it's so important to have great people because those are the people who act in the right ways to attain proper success in any endeavor. Then, when we show them a framework of wisdom like The 7 Cs, we give them more of a perspective on what they've been doing and will need to do to retain the trajectory of their success in new challenges. The framework itself, in its universal comprehensiveness and logical inter-relations, will help us to take whatever we do to a next level.

The Paradox of Our Time

There is a great paradox in the human experience right now. We've never understood leadership better and we've never had worse leaders. We're inundated with books on success and yet failure is everywhere. Never have there been as many courses, essays, and studies stressing the importance of ethics, and yet unethical conduct not only surrounds us but threatens to take us under. We've never understood better the need for unity in our world, and yet we've perhaps never been so divided in so many ways. We live in an age of medical miracles, but far too many struggle to have any access to basic healthcare. We're poisoning the air we breathe and the water we drink. Nations threaten nations at a time when there could be no winners. Knowing that we face imminent existential problems as a species, we dawdle and deny and postpone doing anything.

In every case, at the core of each of these paradoxes we see people valuing position over purpose, status over service, and money over meaning. Warring egos become warring ideologies. We need to turn that around. There's no benefit to being King of the World if the world is in ashes. And it strikes me that our fundamental attitudes are key for any likely transformation. Only the right values and commitments can pull us out of this global and cultural tailspin. And that can arise only from a worldview that values Truth, Beauty, Goodness, and Unity above narrow considerations of self-interest. Working for a true revolution in human hearts and populations is the only way to break the paradoxes than now hold us back and threaten our existence. We can't let the human adventure come to such a sad impasse that we're surrounded with riches and resources that we're unable to use because of the turmoil in too many souls. It's my job as a practical philosopher to point this out. But it's everyone's job to help turn it all around.

The Coming Train

Near Clio, South Carolina
It's a clear fall day, 1960
and I'm eight and I've never
been so far from home.

I'm outside my uncle's house
that badly needs paint
in the hot dry country
that's desolate and remote.

And in his front yard,
if you can call it a yard
since it's all dirty white sand
and tall scattered weeds

There's an old railroad track
crossing the yard too close
to the porch and you can stand
on it and gaze for miles each way.

And then I see a distant train
coming toward me with its light
dim in the distance but I know
it's really bright and it scares me

And I want to cross the track
if I have time to get back again
on the side by the house before
the dark awesome force arrives.

It's an urge to run across that
no-boy's land if I dare, but why
should I care about it at all? And
as the train approaches closer

I feel the pressure inside me
to cross or not to cross.
Will I do it or try it, as the
opportunity rushes on by?

Can I catch it—the chance, not
the train—or will I wait a second
too long and dash just to be dashed
and end my world in that strange place?

And now I know I can cross tracks,
but it’s not always good, and not
ever healthy to wait too long to make
the choice if you might want to return.

Give Your Best. Consistently.

I'm editing a book manuscript on what a successful life is, in our time. In the book I'm interacting extensively with six great thinkers throughout the centuries, including Lao Tsu, Confucius, Cicero, and Emerson. In a passage on Confucius, while explicating some of ideas, I made a point that I'd like to pass along today.  We enter amid the passage. So here goes.

<<When there’s action to be taken, give your best. This is great, basic advice for any endeavor. Early in my career as a public speaker, someone occasionally would tell me in advance of a talk, “This is a really important group”—as if I should take care to be on my game for this one. My response was always, “Every group is a really important group.”  And I meant it. Whether I’m earning the equivalent of a year’s academic salary from speaking to an international group of powerful leaders for an hour, or I’m giving a free talk to a local school or charity, I can’t even conceive of not doing my very best.  

Each group I speak to is, in my estimation and for the duration of that presentation, the single most important gathering of people on earth—regardless of their worldly status as measured by any other standards. I have my own standards. That group is of unrivalled importance to me. The same goes for sitting at home alone with a book, or typing away at the computer. My level of commitment is always the same. Why? First, it’s a matter of personal identity and professional honor. I am who I am. And my work is what it is. No external circumstance can change that. I bring to any situation the utmost of respect for all the people involved, or even potentially involved.

But there’s a second reason as well. A consistent effort in all things on a daily basis can make a huge difference to the ultimate outcomes we experience. Consistency is akin to what military thinkers call “a force multiplier.” It’s a source of leverageand power. And yet, it’s oddly and surprisingly rare to come across this quality in people’s lives – which truly astonishes me. Whether we think of consistency as harmony, fidelity, or constancy, this characteristic is as vital as it is widely ignored in our day.>>

The Meaning of Life is in Small Things

My favorite line in the ancient Chinese wisdom text, The Tao te Ching, always makes me smile. The first time I read it, I laughed out loud at its insight. It says:

"Accept being unimportant."

The New York Times today ran an amazing essay on big dreams, fame, and meaning. Author Emily Smith reflects on George Eliot’s novel Middlemarch, where a character has to give up her big dreams and find her meaning in the small details of a faithful life, raising a family. She will never be famous, or celebrated, Eliot says, and points out to us all:

“But the effect of her being on those around her was incalculably diffusive: for the growing good of the world is partly dependent on unhistoric acts; and that things are not so ill with you and me as they might have been is half owing to the number who lived faithfully a hidden life, and rest in unvisited tombs.”

Yes. It's worth reading that again, and slowly. Smith goes on to say, and I'll quote her liberally here:

<<It’s one of the most beautiful passages in literature, and it encapsulates what a meaningful life is about: connecting and contributing to something beyond the self, in whatever humble form that may take.

Most young adults won’t achieve the idealistic goals they’ve set for themselves. They won’t become the next Mark Zuckerberg. They won’t have obituaries that run in newspapers like this one. But that doesn’t mean their lives will lack significance and worth. We all have a circle of people whose lives we can touch and improve — and we can find our meaning in that.

A new and growing body of research within psychology about meaningfulness confirms the wisdom of Eliot’s novel — that meaning is found not in success and glamour but in the mundane. One research study showed that adolescents who did household chores felt a stronger sense of purpose. Why? The researchers believe it’s because they’re contributing to something bigger: their family. Another study found that cheering up a friend was an activity that created meaning in a young adult’s life. People who see their occupations as an opportunity to serve their immediate community find more meaning in their work, whether it’s an accountant helping his client or a factory worker supporting her family with a paycheck.

As students head to school this year, they should consider this: You don’t have to change the world or find your one true purpose to lead a meaningful like. A good life is a life of goodness — and that’s something anyone can aspire to, no matter their dreams or circumstances.>>

The author, Emily Esfahani Smith, is an editor at the Hoover Institution at Stanford University, and is the author of The Power of Meaning: Finding Fulfillment in a World Obsessed With Happiness.

Philosophy: Some Musings

Philosophy is an object of study that's ultimately meant to be a way of life.

Philosophy can confuse and confound, irritate and even enrage before it enlightens. But it will ultimately justify its pursuit and contribute to a distinctive inner peace.

A little philosophy is a dangerous thing because it easily raises questions that can be answered only with great effort in more philosophy.

At the root of philosophy is the love and quest for wisdom. And at the heart of wisdom is compassion. If anyone purports to espouse philosophy, but without compassion, walk away.

Philosophy is questioning what others take for granted, and seeking to understand whatever can be understood among life’s most important matters and mysteries.

Philosophy will not stay silent in the face of lies, ugliness, evil, or alienation because it values Truth, Beauty, Goodness, and Unity.

Philosophy is a calling for some, a reminder for all, and a resource at each of life's big junctures.

Philosophy at its best encourages not just the good of a few but the proper inner health of us all.

E Pluribus Unum: The Eclipse and Our Unity.

It was a remarkable day, wasn't it, with everyone focusing on the sun and its eclipse. People of all races and ages and political persuasions were putting aside all that for a moment with a greater, single unified focus. All the various tribalisms gave way, if only in our attention, to a passing sense of our common plight and wondrous journey on this small planet dancing around a minor sun, tucked away in a far corner of a galaxy among billions of others, flying through space at greater and greater speeds.

I was reminded of our unofficial national motto, found on coins and often repeated—the Latin phrase, 'E Pluribus Unum,' one from many, or "out of many, one." That's the brilliance of our history as a nation. We weren't founded on the traditional basis of "soil and blood" that's so common for national origins around the world. We didn't all always live here or come from ancestors who did. We're not all related by the tightest weaves of family and tribe. We have originated from many places and nations, and out of many religions and views, and yet we came together under a single set of ideas to unite us as the classic hope of the world.

In the gym today, my workout partner Don and I talked about tribalism and the global imperative. We can't survive as a species and as a world unless we're ultimately able to rise above the identity politics and splintered nationalist affiliations that spark anger and hatred and wars. Carl Sagan and other astronomers have worried that we've never had verifiable contact with an advanced civilization from another planet, perhaps, because intelligent beings always destroy themselves before they can engage in extensive intergalactic communication or travel. We seem to be rushing down such a path ourselves, with hot spots around the world, and nuclear weapons poised for action while irrational rhetoric heats up with threats and warnings. Perhaps we need a new attitude focused on our commonalities. Maybe even the celestial event of today can remind us of this. It's easy to do globalism badly. It's easy to do anything wrong. As Aristotle suggested with his favorite analogy of an archery target, there are lots of ways to miss any bullseye, and there is only one place to hit it precisely right.

I would encourage all of you to ponder this. Let's find ways of celebrating our differences, while valuing each other and rising about the tribalisms that threaten us and our future. Let's find something to focus on that will unite us and not divide us. Any other path will lead to an eclipse that no one will want to see.

Fear. And Love.

What should we think about fear? Maybe Aristotle can guide us in the way he assessed the very different, but often related, emotion of anger. He believed the value of this powerful state of mind and heart could be revealed by such questions as: Toward what or whom? In what measure? For how long? And to what end? We should probably ask the same questions about any instance of fear. When there are real dangers, fear is rational. And it can be reasonable for us to allow it sometimes to call the shots, determining our thoughts and actions at a particular moment, or in a certain fraught situation, and thus guiding our behavior then and there. But this should not be a common occurrence. And there could be a better alternative.

A courageous person never lets fear unhinge him or her and always seeks to do the right thing, regardless of any dangers that might loom and threaten. Sometimes, that means listening to fear and accepting its guidance to pause, or stop, or retreat, or avoid. There are times when it's wise to be moved by fear. But in modern life, this emotion tends to intrude into our thoughts and feelings much more often than its help is needed. Practical wisdom, or prudence, demands that we respect a wide range of values in our actions, and those values encompass proper concerns for our own health and self preservation, as well as for those we love, and even to consider and protect a positive reputation among at least the wise in our communities. But fear is often a bully in its warnings that we may lose what we value, and is as subtle as any insidious force can be.

Fear has a thousand faces. It quite often presents itself as something other than what it is—as perhaps a common sense and reasonable desire for safety, or security, or comfort, or simply for what's known, as distinct from what might be clearly uncertain and unknown. It can make itself look like altruism, or moderation, or sheer rationality, and even when it's the polar opposite of these things.

I've let fear influence my choices far too often in life. But I never recognized it at the time. I was a master of self-deception. And, whether I know you well or not, I can imagine that you are, too. We all have this unfortunate skill. We can rationalize almost anything. And the smarter we are, the more convincing we can be, not only to others, but to ourselves. We allow fear to mask itself as a proper concern for another person, or as the voice of reason, when it's not that at all. And we need to learn the form of discernment, a component of wisdom that allows us to spot our emotions and motivations for what they are, rather than being moved around by what they appear to be. It's almost as if negative emotions can be illusionist shape-shifters and masters of disguise. Part of the Platonic program of stripping away illusions and getting beyond appearances means unmasking them and refusing them illegitimate power.

Fear can present itself as any reasonable person's primary concern. After all, what's more important than survival, it asks us. Well, perhaps a lot. I've come to see fear as being, at best, a rare and secondary motivator along the course of an imperfect life. Yes, it can be helpful. And for that we should thank it. By I now refuse to allow it to call the shots as often as it would like. I'll feel its cousin anxiety arise within me, but nowadays I'll spot it, and question its validity in the moment or the situation, and dismiss it from my heart and mind when it's counterproductive, or in other ways uncalled for. I hope you will, too.

Salespeople are trained in some organizations to act on the fact that most people are much more motivated by a fear of loss than by a desire of gain. And I have a corresponding suggestion: We should not be among those fearful people, and thus, by our own independence, diminish their numbers. No one has ever attained excellence or greatness by following a path of fear. No one ever made his or her best contribution to the world from a place of fear.

It's often been said: Two forces motivate us—love and fear. I recommend love. It's a vastly better guide, overall, than fear. It can give us the true safety that fear always pretends to care about, and yet without the illusions, constraints and deceptions of fear. Love, understood properly and done right, should be our prime mover and most consulted guide.

I think of love here in the deepest spiritual sense, and very differently from the popular understanding—not as an emotion at its core, but as a perspective and commitment to certain positive values, and to the good of all souls. Love is, on this perspective, the main application of wisdom, which is both love's fount and guide. If you value the right things, and embrace those values properly, if you have the right perspectives and insights, you don't need the goad of visceral emotions like fear or anger to motivate proper action. Love wins over all.

On this view, fear is merely a substitute motivator for those who have not fully developed love. And the tug of this pretender can misfire frequently and actually keep us away from the path of what we ought to do. Sometimes, the visceral electric shock of the snake at your feet or the sound in the night simply prevents the right exercise of the mind and the quick action you need. That's why the quintessential hero has a calm mind and a good heart. She does what needs to be done not from fear but love.

And in the end, I think that the deepest spiritual love is a mark of true courage. That's why we hesitate ever to attribute this virtue to suicide bombers or any terrorists, despite the actions that intentionally take them to danger and death. Their fanaticism may mimic courage and produce a counterfeit that's convincing in the minds of their fellow fanatics, but that's because they fail to understand the nature of genuine courage, by their blindness to true love. Any of us, in lesser ways, can make the same mistake. Love puts fear in its proper place. And as the Gospel says, perfect love casts out fear. When love is perfected, this alternative motivator is not needed in any way. It’s left behind. And this is a state of being for us all to hope for and to seek to attain.

Sponge-Worthy Morning Thoughts

Fear is not typically your friend. Anxiety isn't your best advisor. Hang out instead with hope and courage for your finest path forward.

My dreams bring me issues I need to address, and most often in a very creative form. I've learned to pay attention.

The thing about Socrates that most stands out to me was his courage. And I've come to see that as a central quality for any fulfilling life.

Compassion and Courage. What would the world be like if these two qualities led us every day, in equal measure, and applied by wisdom? Let’s bring a little more of each into our lives.

When we cultivate the thought beyond words, we begin to explore a realm of wonder that far exceeds the reach of language.

What if creativity is really your default setting? It could be that you just need to remove some artificial obstacles in order to be your innovative artistic best.

When circumstances squeeze you, it's best not to be a dry sponge. And what you'll give out will be what you've soaked up. Remember that.

Friends can double the good and cut the bad in half. Aristotle understood that it would be difficult to live a great life without friends.

The one external good that's of genuine internal worth is a friend.

Philosophy: Some Thoughts

Philosophy etymologically means "the love of wisdom." And since wisdom is more than knowledge, but is a whole-life phenomenon, philosophy is about living well.

Philosophical wisdom is the depth of understanding that's meant to percolate through every aspect of your life—guiding your path, and lifting you up.

Philosophy isn't argument. And it isn't about intellectual positions. It's a life commitment to wisdom and virtue in all their forms.

The philosophical quest is meant to be the deepest and most comprehensive adventure of them all. Without it, we either drift, or run headlong down all the wrong paths.

Discernment and courage, along with compassion, are or ought to be, the pillars of philosophy.

Philosophy is first of all about love (philo). Without that, wisdom and virtue are genuinely impossible, at the very deepest level.

Speak the truth in love, live with perspective, explore the rich realm of possibility with boldness. Nurture others, encourage them, and build creatively in all things. That’s the challenge of philosophy, done right.

Wisdom. Some Musings.

Wisdom is perhaps the greatest human good, because it can then lead to most or all of the others.

It's never about aphorisms or clever sayings, but can at times be captured or stimulated by such verbal artistry.

Wisdom is about perception, interpretation, perspective, attitude, emotion, commitment, and action. It's all encompassing.

Too many of us come to wisdom much later in life than we would, in wise retrospect, have liked. But: Better late than never.

Wisdom is a matter of the soul and the body together.

It's as rare in our world as it is important.

We need it in our own hearts and minds, but also in our friends, families, associates, and political representatives. The more we cultivate it within, the better we can bring it to others, and receive it well when they bring it to us.

A lack of wisdom isn't just inconvenient, but actually dangerous.

Wisdom is almost as contagious as foolishness, but not quite.

The best way to enhance it in your life is to network with sages, and engage in often and honest self examination.

Wisdom can lead us down surprising and wonderful paths, if we'll just let it. But of course that requires courage, which, fortunately, wisdom can itself bring.

Joyful Mediocrity

Joyful mediocrity. It's a thing. It's what I feel when I’m playing my guitar, amped to the max. I don't need to be the best at it. It can bring me joy even if I’m just Ok.

How about you?

Do you really have to strive to be the best at everything you do? Can’t you just enjoy whatever makes your heart sing, regardless of how good or proficient you might be? Is everything necessarily about improving, and fighting to be better than others? Is life optimization a constant duty and demand?

Maybe not. Perhaps the truth is very different from that. We should consider the possibility that life is really not an endless competition in every one of its nooks and crannies. It’s not in all respects an Olympic track where we’re supposed to be racing and struggling to beat everyone else, or even our own past and fleeting personal best. It’s often a buffet, a playground, a quiet river, a dance, a meditation mat, or a comfortable room where you can pick up that musical instrument and just mess around.

Do you have a mug that says “World’s Best Dad?” Or “World’s Best Mom?” Guess what. You’re not the only one who was presented with that noble award. And you could then ask: Was it really something like a 3 million person tie? Or is it Ok to just be a wholehearted, kind, supportive, loving dad, or mom, or spouse, or friend, or boss, regardless of any competitive metrics that might be conjured up and imposed on you?

Don't get me wrong. Personal growth is one of the reasons we're alive. Getting better at anything can be enjoyable. Getting great can be just that—great and soul stirring. But it's not necessary to import this perspective into absolutely every area of your life.

I love Frisbee, and I'm average at it, at best. Mediocre would be the right word. But it's fun, even joyful.

I love to joke around. Am I a world class comic? Not by a long shot. Do I care? No! How about throwing a football? Fun, fun, fun. How good am I? Passable. See what I mean about the humor? I like to grab my wife and dance terribly until she makes me quit, about 5 seconds into the first awkward twirl. And I could go on. But she won't let me. Just kidding.

Fun. Soul elevating stuff. My heart sings while I recite Shakespeare. And I'll never be cast. But downcast? Never!!!!!

Am I alone in championing this concept of joyful mediocrity, or do you also have an experience of it in your life? If so, what’s it for you? What’s your love and joy—regardless of talent, acumen, praise, or skill?

A friend told me recently that he’s really bad at golf, but loves it. It’s his joyful mediocrity. I know people who love to play cards, but don't even think about winning. They relish the experience, the chit chat and just the time together. Sometimes, I get a kick out of whipping up a meal. And I usually dive into the result with enthusiastic gusto, although I wouldn’t expect anyone else to do so, and I’d really hate to see any review of my culinary achievement on Yelp.

Our entire culture seems to goad us on to work hard at everything, hone our chops, and rise to the top. But what if there’s a different way of rising, altogether, and it has nothing to do with any top?

In a culture of striving to be the best, perhaps sometimes it's best to just be.

So. Cultivate joyful mediocrity now and then. Unless you're my airline pilot on the job. Or a president in the Oval Office. But in other things, it's Ok to be average, or even bad, if what you're doing gives you joy. And if others can take joy in it, as well, even by laughing at your wonderful, delightful incompetence, then that's good, too.

A Cluster of Thoughts to Ponder

As Rome burns, I refuse to be a fiddler and insist on being a fireman. Grab a bucket, won't you? Join me in rushing to the calamity. Let's do what we can.

Words you never want to hear the dentist say to his assistant while he's in your mouth: "Get me the saw." Yeah. It's from personal experience.

Lesson from the dental chair: Almost nothing is quite as bad as it seems, or as good. So stay calm.

My job is to respect and nurture Truth, Beauty, Goodness and Unity—cultivating the intellectual, aesthetic, moral, and spiritual sides of life. And, yeah, it’s your job, too.

Justice is everybody's business, in the small details of life. Fairness. Kindness. Evenhandedness. And then mercy can take its proper place.

When we lose sight of the best in us, we tend to manifest the worse in us. That's a key to personal life, and to national politics as well.

Every difficulty, every challenge, every disappointment tells me something about myself, and provides me an opportunity for transformation.

Nothing's really ours. Everything's given to us for a time. We're stewards meant to care for all the outer and inner blessings of life, and share them.

How hard is it to listen? Just listen. Really listen. Quietly. Attentively. Compassionately. Imaginatively. As an act of love. Courageously.

We can't overstate the power of humility in life, to be like the humus, the soil of the earth, open and ready to grow what you're given.

When we seek to love more than to be loved, to appreciate more than to be appreciated, to encourage more than to be encouraged, we get it.

In times of high emotion and deep division, we're to love our neighbors as ourselves, and even our "enemies" - valuing their true good.

Too many people live lives of illusion. And that's a great tragedy of the human condition. Refuse illusion. Seek truth. Have courage.

Plato's insistence: Never let appearances blind you to realities. And that may be one of the hardest tasks in life.

Aristotle's formula for the highest human good was simple: People in Partnership for a shared Purpose. There's nothing solitary about it.

Never let adversarial thinking be your baseline or default mode of thought, outside the bounds of a real battle with bullets and bombs.

Dreams are the engine of achievement. But the gas in the tank is hard work.

Our Choices, Our Lives.

With graduation time here again, there's something well worth our reflection. In ancient Rome, only the upper classes had much choice as to occupation. And Cicero pointed out that the age at which such fortunate youth were supposed to choose their path in life was precisely a time when they were least prepared to understand the range of their options and the consequences of their choices. Interestingly, the same truth holds today.

When my friends were seeking to pick their major at UNC, they would most often ask themselves, "What do I want to do for the rest of my life?" And many froze in fear that they'd choose wrongly. My father taught me that, by contrast, and in a Ciceronian mode, "You never have to ask what you want to do for the rest of your life, only what you want to do next. The rest of your life will take care of itself, as a result of these much smaller choices."

In my novel, The Oasis Within, young Walid Shabeezar has just turned thirteen. And as he crosses the desert with his uncle and a group of friends, he discovers something about his family and himself that he had never imagined. The discovery then confronts him with an unanticipated choice. There are certain expectations for him. Will he agree to accept them, or not?

A famous literary agent who read the first draft of the book worried to me about Walid. She said, "But he doesn't really have a choice. He does what he's expected to do. And that just seems unfair." But is it unfair at all?

For most of history, young men and women grew up to do the exact work they had seen their parents do. Hunters became hunters, farmers became farmers, and homemakers engaged in home economics. A blacksmith's son would also begin to shoe horses. A shopkeeper's child would learn that trade, as well. But in more recent decades in the developed world, there has come to be an increasing range of options open to us all. And that's become a problem. Some well-known psychological experiments have shown that if you give people too many choices, our ability to choose at all breaks down. Faced with a display of 100 different jellies in their grocery store, people simply walk away. Confronted by 12, they may make a choice.

Mondrian once said that for a painter contemplating a blank canvas, the first brush stroke is always the hardest, because it eliminates countless other possibilities.

If a young man follows his father's work, or a young woman her mother's, or there is a continuity crossing the gender divide, yet taking family activity into the next generation, has such a person abdicated choice? In my view, not necessarily at all.

Let's consider for a moment the most extreme case. A couple wants to pass on to their children a business they've created. And all but one of the siblings prefer instead to do other things. Will the youngest then face a level of pressure that eliminates any real freedom of choice? Certainly not. Of course, the young person may opt to do something different, however challenging that may be. But suppose, by contrast, that this young adult child does agree to take on the family business and tradition. There are clearly two ways to do "what's expected of you." One way is to defer unwillingly, give in, and allow the choice to be made for you. This is of course a path to resentment and diminishment. But there is another way. And that is to freely embrace what's set before you, and take it up as your own chosen path. In this modality, you take emotional and existential ownership of what's been offered you, and you make it your own. It's a path of career choice that nowadays is rare, but there's nothing inappropriate or inauthentic about it when it's done in full knowledge of options, and with courage as well as compassion.

In like manner, many of us feel a sense of mission in what we're doing. I've felt that since one day in college, when, on a walkway near the math building at UNC, I experienced a sense of calling that was not yet fully specific, but almost an alert that I had a special mission upcoming, one that was soon to be assigned to me. This experience gave me great hope and confidence and enthusiasm about the future. And I immediately embraced whatever this specific mission would be, wholeheartedly and with great gratitude.

Did I not have a choice? Certainly, I did. But I responded ultimately to something that felt given to me, and yet I took my own ownership of the adventure to come, and have so ever since. There's a false view of freedom that we have to make up everything ourselves from scratch in order to preserve the entirety of our integrity. But there's another perspective in accordance with which authenticity means respecting who you most deeply are and what you're most deeply given to do, and then working with that to the utmost of your ability.

I hope for our current graduates that they can come to make such choices well, and in the way that will lead to a deep sense of gratification and fulfillment for them, as well as a greater good for us all.

Self Examination

In a talk I gave this week to the 160 top executives in a great company, I began with some drawings I had done of Socrates, Plato, Aristotle And William of Ockham. I mentioned what I think of as their greatest gifts to us, gifts we would use in our hour together.

Socrates called us to self examination and self knowledge. He even went as far as to claim that "The unexamined life is not worth living." He taught me that we should examine our beliefs, assumptions, values, emotions, and attitudes on a regular basis, and relentlessly.

Plato clearly expressed the difference between appearance and reality, and pointed out that most of us live our lives in bondage to illusions that constrain us and hold us back, distorting what we're able to know and do in this world.

Aristotle called us to dig deep in order to rise high, and base our lives on the virtues, or strengths, that we can ideally bring to any challenging situation, the chief of which is courage.

Ockham helped us to understand the importance of simplicity. In any complex situation, however complicated, there is a simple core. If we can grasp that essence, we can deal more properly with all the other issues.

For the first time in a talk, I suggested that we could all heed these pieces of advice in an interesting way. We should at some point take some time and do a personal inventory of the general beliefs and assumptions we have about life and work that we may never have examined before and that just might be among those illusions that Plato suggested affect us all. What have I been assuming or taking for granted? Is it really true? Or is it a mere illusion I need to shake free of? This sort of self examination, testing appearances and pursuing realities, will require a dose of Aristotelian courage and may bring us to some simple truths that might be liberating.

It's worth pondering.