I'm an Optimist!

I’m an unusual philosopher in several respects. First, I have no beard, toga or tweed jacket. Second, I don't work at a college or university, where most of us are safely confined. But my focus today is on the fact that, even stranger, I’m an optimist.

Survey the history of philosophy and you won’t find many of us smiley faces in the mix.  Thomas Hobbes was no barrel of laughs with a rosy view of things. Schopenhauer was perhaps King of the Pessimists. Kierkegaard was often referred to as "the gloomy Dane." Sartre is famous for his characteristic statement that “Hell is other people.” Ouch. And, you know: Check the news. The world is full of problems - overflowing with difficulties. So, how do I manage to be an optimist, swimming against so strong a tide? Why, for that matter, should anyone with a mind at all be an optimist?

First, I should qualify my confession. I'm often a short term pessimist but always a mid-to-long term optimist. Short term, any crazy thing can happen. Given time, though, things will work out. That's my view. And because the long and mid term encompasses the short term, I'm - all things considered, in the end, and ultimately - an optimist. So I choose the metaphysical smile.

Here's the thing. The same problems exist around the world that always have. But the evil practices and stupid things going on now more widely condemned than ever before. And yet, they still exist. Enlightenment is a rough and curving road, with many back turns and hills, and detours along the way. And of course, as one especially insightful individual once said, “There will always be wars and rumors of war.”

Human aggression seems to be so deeply embedded in our nature that no reasonable person could ever expect it to disappear. Renowned physicist and Expert on Many Things Stephen Hawking recently said that aggression is the greatest threat to our continued existence that there is. As an optimist, do I then think it will just go away? No. But I believe it can be redirected.

Right now, as in all the rest of our history, human aggression is directed primarily toward people. And I don’t think we need to end it. But we need to redirect it toward problems rather than people. If we could get especially the young men around the world and their supporters to go after the problems we all face with the energy and aggression by which they fight and go to war, the world would be a better place pretty quickly.

We don’t need a world with no aggression. We need a world of aggressive problem solvers. And that’s a good thing. In a wise and prescient novel, The Thanatos Syndrome, the late Walker Percy envisioned a place where drugs were put into the water supply to reduce aggression and hostility. The unexpected side effect was that many other things were reduced as well, including creativity. It’s nice to dream of a world where no aggression at all exists. But a more reasonably expected one is where it’s redirected. Will it ever happen? Despite mountains of evidence to the contrary, I remain an optimist. The world is full of problems like this, but I'm convinced we're here to be problem solvers.

Dare Greatly

In a Cadillac advertisement on the back page of the new edition of Esquire, we find this:

It is not the critic who counts: The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, who strives valiantly; who errs, who comes short again and again; who knows great enthusiasms; who spends himself in a worthy cause; who at the best knows in the end the triumph of high achievement, and who at the worst, if he fails, at least fails while daring greatly.

It's an inspiring, shortened version of a famous statement by Theodore Roosevelt, worth representing in its entirety, because it's worthwhile to read and ponder the words again, and the additional thoughts and images that we all need to keep in view:

It is not the critic who counts; not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles, or where the doer of deeds could have done them better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood; who strives valiantly; who errs, who comes short again and again, because there is no effort without error and shortcoming; but who does actually strive to do the deeds; who knows great enthusiasms, the great devotions; who spends himself in a worthy cause; who at the best knows in the end the triumph of high achievement, and who at the worst, if he fails, at least fails while daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who neither know victory nor defeat.

The Roman Stoic philosopher Seneca wrote vividly about a boxer who was bruised and bloodied in the ring, knocked down, but not knocked out, as being the only one who could bring to the next contest the deep confidence that never comes until you've had your teeth rattled and had the breath pounded out of you and outlasted the onslaught. The challenges, bumps, and bruises of life are to be used by us to strengthen our souls, and they alone prepare us for becoming and being the best we're capable of being. So, when they come, use them well, and proudly. 

In the end, it's not the critics, but the struggling creators, who prevail.

A New World Order

We live in a world order that seems to have come to us out of prehistory. It's in the air we breathe - along with a lot of other stuff that's been produced by it. It's the motivational structure behind what most people do, most of the time. It's a world order that's all about position, power, and possessions. It's been responsible for most of the achievements, discoveries, and inventions throughout human history. But it's a recipe for resentment, aggression, and conflict. It's a zero sum mindset - those who want more have to take from others, who end up with less.

An old friend from college, Ed Brenegar, recently visited for part of a day, on a pilgrimage to see several east coast friends before he moves soon from Asheville, NC to Jackson Hole, Wyoming. We sat and talked for hours about philosophy, life, and the spirit. We reflected on this old world order of position, power, and possessions that's beginning to look spiritually threadbare and not merely problematic, but actually self destructive over the long run. And we ruminated on what would be a better alternative - a spiritual vision of creativity, contribution, and service where our aspirations are guided more by love and compassion than by lust and acquisition. We wondered together if we're in a time of transition from one to the other, or whether a better world order of care and concern is just a dream.

What motivates you? Is it just a desire for position, power, or possessions? Or is it something more, something deeper and more lasting? There is something better for us, something calling out to us that will not at all diminish our drive to create and improve, but will put it onto better foundations. There is, of course, nothing wrong with position, power, and possessions. They're all great things, if used well. But they should never be the sole motivating forces in our lives, or the metrics by which we measure value. There is, indeed, something more.

Our Mistakes

We're humans. Given a chance to screw up, we will.

That's a quote from Brent Scowcroft, former, and outstanding, Director of National Security for presidents Jimmy Carter and George H. W. Bush. In a recent New York Times BooK Review Essay on a new biography of Scowcroft, the reviewer Daniel Kurtz-Phelan begins by saying:

In foreign policy, every success is just the start of the next crisis.

And isn't it that way in life, generally? We plan, work, strive and achieve, just to be confronted by a big problem we didn't see coming. And, along the way, we screw up. 

"Mistakes were made." That could be an epitaph for the human adventure. And how do you deal with mistakes or screw ups? Do you descend into the valley of despair, self-recrimination, and toxic guilt? I hope not. Just as much as I hope you don't just continue to dash blithely forth, oblivious to what you've done. 

Mistakes will be made. It's the human condition. The real question is whether they'll be continued, or at least interrupted by a proper response. Can we be learners? Will we be resilient? Even Sisyphus got back down to heave the stone again.

Give yourself a break. But don't let that prevent you from learning. We all make mistakes - sometimes whoppers. And we all can learn. There's a way to be a short term pessimist and a long term optimist. That's what I've been for a very long time. Any crazy thing can happen in the short term. But I'm very optimistic about the big picture.

This is actually a nice posture to adopt. Most critiques of optimism are actually objections against the viewpoint that can't tolerate any pain, and deludes itself to see sunshine in everything. I see sunshine, but not as a delusion - and mostly as a disinfectant of our stained mistakes. It's precisely my long term optimism that allows me to be a little pessimistic in the near term, and be prepared for almost any bad thing to happen. I'm ready for it. And I'm prepared to change it into something good.

How about you?

Self Doubt

Someone asked me to reflect on self doubt. And I was going to, a week ago, but I had doubts.

Confidence is a good thing, so self doubt is a bad thing, right? Well, it turns out not to be so simple, like much else in life.

Socrates said, "The unexamined life is not worth living." He encouraged frequent and honest self-examination. How am I doing right now, as a blogger, a public speaker, a philosopher, an author, a husband, a father, a grandfather, a neighbor, a friend? How am I doing as a human being? The result of an honest self examination in any of our roles or activities can be one of either affirmation or doubt. We might conclude, "I'm doing great." Or: "I'm good. I just need to hang in there a little longer and success will be mine." Or we could see that, "I'm not doing so well in this. Maybe I'm outmatched. This might not be the challenge for me right now." Or the conclusion could be, "I'm on the right track but I need a little help in order to get the outcome I want."

Self-affirmation can be healthy. But then, so can self-doubt. People sometimes chase the wrong things, things that are not right for them. People can also drift in a direction that's not desirable. Self doubt can slow them down and turn them around. It can be a stimulus to additional work and learning. Or, it can be the bane of your existence.

Like almost anything else in the world, our evaluation of self doubt has to turn on the question of how it functions in our lives. Do we experience it in healthy doses, or in a pathological way? Is it an occasional phenomenon that helps us, or a default position that always nags us and even holds us back? Does it result from real self knowledge in the present, or from unresolved issues in the past?

Psychological research shows that proper doses of self doubt can lead to important efforts to improve. It can stimulate collaborations ("I don't think I can do this alone") and needed work in developing new knowledge or skill sets ("I don't yet think I know all that I need to know"). But it can't be allowed to dominate in a life. It should not be the overall tonality of our existence. We're not in the world mainly to refrain from things, but to do things, and to accomplish things. In case doubt is getting in your way, and not allowing you to be and do all that you would like to achieve, I have one piece of advice. Doubt your doubts.

Help For Those Who Need It

My daughter just had a flat tire. It happened not far from home, in a high end gated community. Her car was disabled in an undeveloped area, ten feet off a main road. Lots and lots of people drove by her, a few feet away. Many of them looked at her. She told me that one guy even hung his head out his car window, staring. Her emergency flashers were on, and she was outside the Volvo SUV, a petite blond thirty-something, after her phone call to Triple A, and obviously in need of help. People rode by her on bikes. A man walked his dog by her, a few feet away, twice. And no one asked her if she was Ok, or needed anything.

It's not that people were afraid to stop. She's certainly not a threatening individual. Plus, it was mid day, and the neighborhood has lots of security. Three or four security cars actually drove by during her forty five minute wait for help. One officer waved. But again, even those whose duty is to help didn't. She never tried to flag anyone down. She was taking charge of the situation from the start and calling for a tow truck guy to come help her. But then she waited. And waited, flashers going all the time. She just couldn't help but notice that no one at all inquired about whether she was Ok or needed help.

When she got home, she told me the whole story, astonished that no one tried to be of assistance or had even asked whether there was anything they could do for her.  Bu then she said, "It's called diffusion of responsibility." There's, of course, a related tale in the Bible called the story of the Good Samaritan. There's also some stuff in the same text that we often refer to as The Golden Rule. But she didn't experience anyone applying either passage in a positive way on this particular day.

I'm glad she told me the story. I don't want to be one of those guys who sees a need and keeps going. Her experience has reminded me that if we see anything where another person may be in some sort of difficulty, it would be good to stop and at least ask about their wellbeing, or need, and offer to help anyway we can.

And, hey, it's not securing peace in the middle east, but a mindset attuned to be of help does make the world a better place, if only by a little bit. Let's all try to do our bit as we move about through our days.

A Little Bit of Paradox

Each of us is ordinary. Each nonetheless is more. Each of us has limits. Each is infinite, as well. Each of us is flesh. Yet each of us is spirit. Each is of the earth. Each is of the stars. Each started small. Each can be great. Each has a real past. Each is mostly future.

We all live now. We all can grow. Almost anything can kill us. Almost nothing can stop us. Others can build us up. Others can bring us down. Belief can drain us. Belief can fulfill us. Good action is for others. Good action is for us. 

Wisdom is hard. It's also quite easy. Action is the means. It is also the end. 

Letting Go of the Past

Imagine life in the present moment as a flame, a blazing fire that lights up the dark. The past is just all the ashes from what has come and gone and been transformed by the universal blaze of living. I don't know about you, but I suspect that, like me, you don't collect the ashes from your chimney, or any outdoor fire, pile them up, and spend time staring at them. By contrast, I can watch a roaring fire for a long time. It's mesmerizing. But ashes? No. not at all.

Trying to hold on to the past is like collecting the ashes from the fire of your life and grasping them in your hands, and watching them, and taking in their aroma. What's the point, or the enjoyment of that? We all have some memories of great things past. We also have recall of hurts and difficulties we've lived through. And such memories can often be a proper part of our present. But we should never allow the joys of memory or the rawness of some recollections to pull us back to times that no longer exist and things that are no more. We're meant to face forward in life, not backward. We're meant to let go of the past so we can embrace the present and reach out to the future. That's our calling, and our destiny. To do any differently is to impede our learning, and our growth. So, let go of the past. It was what it was. And now you have a present. It is what it is. Releasing what's gone allows you to relish what's here, or perhaps what's yet to come. The future is our destiny. But the only step we can take to get there is in our present.

Note: This is a second in a new series of blogs on topics of request. Have a concern for me to write about? Just let me know!

Worry

It makes no sense to worry about what we can't control. But then it also makes no sense to worry about what we can control. So, therefore, as a philosopher would say, worry makes no sense.

I've never seen worry improve a situation. I've just seen it stress people out and drag them down.

You may think that it's your job to worry. I respectfully suggest you're wrong. Your job, whatever it is, certainly requires attention, awareness, and care, and perhaps even meticulous concern. It no doubt calls for diligence and foresight, checking, and double checking. It certainly benefits from backup plans and thoroughgoing prudence.

But worry, however natural, is never required. Never. At best, it's a redundant use of energy that would be better put to work in positive ways. More typically, it's a negative void that sucks energy away - energy that you could indeed put to a much more creative use.

So, if you worry, don't worry. Just don't worry.

Exuberance!!!

I've come to think that a vastly under appreciated quality in life is exuberance. It's a form of passionate energy that lights people up and gives a glow to anything they do.

Now, I'm not talking about the artificially chirpy forced positivity that you sometimes see in exceedingly annoying people. That's an artificial copy, a counterfeit, easily recognized, for the genuine article of my concern here. I'm talking about a natural energy that flows through some people and leads to great things. I remember reading about a lecture once given by Linus Pauling, the Nobel Laureate, where he was literally dancing on a table in excited illustration of some idea that was inspiring him. His cynical colleagues would just shake their heads. But it was exuberant Linus who did the breakthrough work.

Exuberance, done right, is motivating and magnetic. It enlivens and uplifts. It's the fuel of discovery and great change. And it's insufficiently understood.

"Wait," you might be saying if you have a bit of skepticism in you about this, "Would you really want an exuberant plumber or electrician? An exuberant barber or checkout person at the grocery store?" Actually, yes. Whenever I'm around genuine exuberance that's not a mask for something else, I feel refreshed and energized. It raises my confidence level in the person displaying this quality. And it makes me glad that, in a world of Eeyores, there are still some Tiggers.

Encouragement

We need to encourage each other more. Life is often hard. Our work can sometime seems like a long march up hill. We need support. We need a little cheerleading. A kind word. A moment of praise. A big smile. We need the spiritual fuel of encouragement. We all need to feel like people around us believe in us and are cheering us on. But most of all, we need to do that for others.

Are you an encourager? That's one of the noblest roles in life. By encouraging others along their proper paths, we contribute to the best in the world. In modern life, we easily become so fixated on our own challenges, opportunities, and successes. But a great part of my success in life can be my aid to others in helping them along to success. And the same is true for you.

Let's all work on the habit of encouragement. No doubt, the world needs critics. But it needs encouragers even more.

And if you've read all the way to this point, I'm encouraged.

Old Age: Sneak. Thief. Guide.

If you live long enough, old age will some day begin to sneak up on you. There's a pain here, a strain there. Some food you've always loved starts bothering you. Too much cabernet or champagne will suddenly make you snore. Or at least, if other people's reports are to be trusted. It doesn't all happen at once. And each thing, in itself, can normally be explained away. 

What makes old age such a sneaky thief is that when it starts to take things away from you, it typically most often brings them back - at least, at first, and for a time. You're hobbling around with a back injury, unable to do your normal stuff. And then a few days or a few weeks later, the pain goes away. The stiffness disappears. Oh, Ok. I'm fine.

Or age takes away, bit by bit, your natural ability to sleep solidly through the night. You have lots of fitful evenings. You're exhausted. And maybe cranky. And then you have one or two or more deep slumbers again. Oh, Ok. I'm fine. It was just the full moon, or the dog moving around too much, or those neighbors, or that spicy burger.

That's what makes old age so tricky. It takes away and then often gives back, and it's typically so subtle about its depredations that you can almost always, for a while, blame something else. 

Now, I'm saying this as a youth of 62. I'm stronger than I've ever been in my life, and vigorous and energetic in almost every possible way. And yet, when I go crazy in the gym, it's easier to mess up that rotor cuff, or those hip flexors, and then I'm semi-benched for a while, until I come back, full force, but a little more cautious. My greatest strength and weakness at once is that I'm a person of extremes. And youthful resilience will tolerate extremes that middle age, and the early onset of maturity may not so readily indulge.

I have a friend who at 92 just published his memoir and has been on book tour promoting the autobiography on most of the major talk shows. He gives me hope. But he may even slow down in ten or twenty years. Most of his peers are already not as full of life and energy.

It looks like old age is going to eventually take away pretty much everything we have. It will take away beauty and power and all sorts of possibilities. In some cases, it seems to rob people of most everything they are, at least in this world. And yet, that's an important qualification. There's a wild option here.

In the end, it may be that old age isn't just a liar and a thief of the worst sort. Maybe it's a teacher and a guide. We say it has its compensations. And wisdom can certainly be one of them. But maybe this thing called wisdom goes far deeper than we suspect, and part of the wisdom that age has to convey to us is the realization that we need to shed a lot of the baggage of this world before transitioning to a new adventure in the next one.

Some may object that part of the baggage that age has helped them shed already is such a belief that there is something more. And in their journey, perhaps, that shedding in its own way has helped in their preparation for what does indeed come next. But it's my view that they'll be surprised. They think nothing is on the horizon. I suspect something big is. And I realize we can't both be right. But I can't help but feel that I am.

Age. I'll still wrestle with the joker, while laughing at his pranks. And the more I fight him, the more I'll get of him, if I'm successful. But of course, in the end, I can't win, because there is an end. Or, wait. What if somehow we both win, in the end, age and I, if we do it just right? Maybe old age is the guide it needs to be, in many ways - if we take the right attitude about dealing with it.

I know, I'm still young. But we need to plan ahead.

Age well, my friends.

Emotional Sunburn

When a small problem comes along and makes a grab for your emotions, do you give it power or refuse it power? 

Many people walk around with the emotional version of severely sunburned skin - contact with almost anything will cause them upset, distress, or even pain. They're always getting worked up about little things, except that if you asked them, they wouldn't ever acknowledge that any of their problems is little. "What are you talking about? This is HUGE!" Such a person manufactures drama out of whatever is available, while actually thinking that it's other people who are causing it.

There is a better way to live. You can rise above the fray, keep calm, and stick to the high road. It's up to you. With the right mindset, you can utterly ignore what others see as slights, insults, provocations, schemes, and even threats. With the right way of thinking, you don't give little irritants the power to bother you. It's all about perspective, and a measure of inner peace.

As the stoics taught us, it's always up to us how we interpret the world. We can blame external events for how we feel, but it's in every case our own opinions about those events that are to blame.

Your world isn't responsible for your feelings. Change your mind, and you change your world, in just the right way as to free your emotional life for truly bigger and better things.

Take a deep breath. Smile. Release the initial worry or irritation or anger. Rise above it. It's in your power. And it's the only way to prevent that sunburn.

A Lesson From American Idol

The other night, I was watching the first round of American Idol auditions in Hollywood. Yeah, philosophers have to take some time off, too, like everybody else. And one thing was clear from the segment. No amount of talent will show through clearly if jangled nerves get in the way. People who had been great in local auditions were close to choking in Hollywood. They forgot the words, or wandered off pitch. Some looked horrified just to be on stage. And there they were, chasing their dream, with a real chance to see it come true - if they could perform at their best. And many couldn't. The judges actually pointed out the problem. Everyone was too much on edge. They needed to shed the dread and relax a bit.

And here's the irony. We get nervous because we care. But because we care, we have to release the anxiety and learn how to have fun doing the job.

Long ago, before walking onto a stage in front of a hundred or a thousand people, or often a great many more, I would feel my heart rate increase and I'd say to myself, "Oh. I'm getting nervous." Then, one day, I learned to say instead, "Ok. I'm getting ready." The first interpretation of what I was feeling always concerned me and made things worse. The new interpretation will always boost me and makes things better. 

So when you're about to do something you really care about, try what I do. Don't get nervous. Get ready.

Passion and Performance

Passion drives performance like nothing else, in business, and in life. What do you care about most deeply? What enlivens you? What awakens you? What form of work or service feels like play? What gives you a sense of mission or purpose? That's what you need to be doing. It's tough in life to settle for anything less.

Yeah, I know that the cynics will reply, "Passion can't pay the bills." And passionate mediocrity is just bad on a bigger scale. Sometimes, our greatest loves have to be hobbies. I get it. We all have limitations, commitments, and various other realities to deal with. But a truth still stands. When you can pick your passion as your primary purpose, you can often fly high.

This week I've written once before about a really nice book I've been reading, The Work: My Search for a Life That Matters, by Wes Moore. Today, I want to quote him again. On page 120, he writes:

One thing I began to realize in my travels was that everyone I met who was truly successful - whether in business, in philanthropic work,  in human rights, in government, or in raising a family - shared one common trait: they were fanatically passionate about the work they did. They breathed it. They needed it. It was their lifeblood.

He then goes on to challenge us:

Really, think about it: name one person in your own life who fits the description of unassailable success who is not driven by that kind of clarifying passion.

I'm not sure I would have used the word 'fanatical' but, that caveat aside, I agree wholeheartedly with what Moore says here. Tremendous passion tends to drive tremendous results. In the 1600s, Blaise Pascal wrote, "The heart has its reasons of which reason knows nothing." The heart, the core of our emotion, and passion, the metaphorical organ of enthusiasm and positive energy, has reasons and powers that intellect alone can't match.

The more heart we can bring to our work, the more passion and commitment and enthusiasm, the more likely we'll make that work into a masterpiece of service, or performance, and a real gift to those around us. Why should we settle for anything less?

Adversity. The Spice of Life.

Adversity. It's the spice of life.

That's a quote from the amazing film Haute Cuisine, as spoken by an elderly president of France, to his cook, at least as I remember it. If you haven't seen this little cinematic masterpiece of excellence, it's on Netflix streaming. It's a inspiring portrait of someone who really cares about what she's doing, and works as an artist. The observation about life from which we begin today was spoken to her as comforting advice when she confessed to having big troubles with government officials who suddenly stepped in, interfered with her work and insisted on cost savings, low calories, and no rich sauces for her boss.

Adversity. The Spice of Life. What does spice do? Well, it imparts flavor, interest, and sometimes even a gustatory version of drama. How gripping would life be without trouble, difficulty, and seemingly impossible obstacles? How many great tales could have the form "I tried a new path, and everything went just fine"? What would film, literature, or life be without conflict and challenge?

A life without adversity. It might be nice, for even a very long time, but it couldn't be heroic or adventurous or exciting. It would end up as a big yawn. Trouble challenges us. It forces us to be creative, persistent, and brave. It strengthens us. The worst pain I've ever experienced was at the same time an existential jolt of enlightenment that built my overall life confidence like nothing else ever had.

You win when you can smile at adversity, and even on occasion laugh in its face. You prevail when you can use it for your own growth, wisdom, and accomplishments. It's all about the right attitude and the right action. That's the standard philosophical formula. 

Take on the right attitude. Take the right action. The spice makes all the difference.

In proper measure, a dash of adversity may indeed be the energizing spice that enhances all the flavors of life. Bon Appetite!

The Wow Factor, Vegas-Style

Las Vegas is the World Capital of Attention Grabbing Overstimulation. In such a ramped up mega cacophony of sights and sounds, it's hard for anything or anyone to stand out for more than twenty seconds. That's why I was so surprised, on Fremont Street, in downtown Vegas the other night, to see an outdoor bartender quietly but flamboyantly wowing thirsty partiers who had been wandering up and down the avenue. He was an individual who truly stood out. And that's not easy, in his context. Every ten feet, there's a superhero, a breakdancer, a contortionist, a magician, musician, or a barely garbed man or woman, sometimes in a minimalistic historical costume, soliciting your attention and financial compliments. Have your picture taken with a Chippendales Dancer. Eat a Chili Dog with Darth Vader or Mr. T. How can anyone compete?

The treat of the evening was watching this one silent bar man skillfully juggling bottles and putting on a real show with each drink order, whether he got the applause and thanks he deserved or not. His skill, focus, and untiring commitment to make each customer feel special formed together a cluster of qualities that were a rare delight to see.

The noise level on Fremont can be mind-numbing. The light show projected onto the high canopy ninety feet above the street, playing off the apparently millions of neon signs also blinking from all sides, can be the ultimate distraction from any human performer. But this one guy just continued to do his thing, undaunted by the massive competition for attention that swirled all around him. Most mere mortals serving the whole range of humanity under the endless sonic assault of high decibel chaos from all directions would just hunker down, do the job, and try to get through the shift. Not this guy. You almost forgot the noise and the wild freak show flowing all around you, as he plied his craft and smoothly performed for each customer. Watching him reminded me of something important.

It's not our circumstances or our competition that determines our level of excellence or success; it's our inner commitment to what we do, and to the people we serve. 

We should never let challenges shut us down, but raise us up to peak performance. In the end, it's up to us. For a look at our man in Vegas, play the few seconds below.

The Adventurous Mind

Where is your next adventure? What will it be? When will it happen? And, how?

In her book, Deep Play, the modern poetic explorer of all things, Diane Ackerman, writes: "People often ask me where they might go to find adventure. Adventure is not something you must travel to find, I tell them, it's something you take with you."

The adventurous mind is always on the lookout for the new and challenging and wild - something to be explored, tackled, or tamed. Adventure is an attitude, a dynamic inclination, a way of living and working. It's best found where you are. And then it takes you to where you need to be. It's always about what's next. It's the way curiosity moves through uncertainty with danger or delight.

Where do new things come from? The adventurous mind finds them, or makes them. It's the mindset of discovery and creation. It's also the soul of intentional becoming and growth. It's a spirit and a cousin of courage. Its enemy is inertia, armed with fear. It's up to us to cultivate it and free this wellspring of the new from whatever would chain it down and hold it back.

So: Where's your next adventure?

You carry it inside you.

Bring it to the world.

Limits

We typically talk about limits as if they're always a bad thing. Because of this, I've seen lots of organizations and even corporate and association meetings given names like "Without Limits" or "Limitless" or "No Limits!" It's the ultimate cheerleading motto. Abundance. Infinity. Ultimate Expansiveness. The World is Yours. No, the Entire Universe - And Infinitely Beyond!

The problem is that we all have limits. And if we don't know them and respect them, we get into deep trouble. The great Anglo Saxon epic Beowulf, one of my favorite books, is about a guy who bought the "no limits" hype in his own time, and thought he was immune to failure. And that, ironically, set him up for his ultimate demise.

In Mary Shelley's classic cautionary tale of success and failure, the novel Frankenstein, Dr. Victor Frankenstein doesn't know his limits, either, and a world-class mess ensues.

Consider the oldest human epic story, from 2,700 BC, Gilgamesh. It's only when King Gilgamesh - handsome, powerful, narcissistic, and insatiably hedonistic - discovers the most basic of his limits that he's transformed into a good leader and king.

The wise thing to do is to live creatively within your limits, and at other times, at your limits, or even on them, in something like a high wire existential balancing act. But to pretend they don't exist is both wrong and dangerous. Our limits give us form, and without form, there is no substance, no distinctive, individual existence. We can rhetorically dismiss limits or deny them, but we're impoverished and even imperilled if we don't know and navigate by them.

How about you? What are your limits? How can you recognize them, respect them, even embrace them, and act with them in mind while you, nonetheless, dream big, aim high, and accomplish the seemingly impossible?

I'm a fan of outrageous greatness. I believe in the extraordinary. We should reject and blast through any unhelpful and artificial limits. But I think that knowing our real limits and wisely working within them can alone get us to where we most need to be.

And any philosophy that doesn't see with this is far too ... limited.

Values and Goals

This week, I'm reflecting a bit on goals, and I'll try to say some new things. Typically, we select new goals as a result of our desires and our values. Most of us have more desires than we ought to pursue. Our values help select which should be transformed into goals.

A goal is a guide to action. A value is a guide to action. So, then, what's the difference?

I've written that a goal is a commitment of the will. But then so is a value. A value is a commitment of the will. So, then, what's the difference?

On the simplest level, a goal is a specific commitment and a value is a general one.

But we can say more. A goal is a specific commitment to bring something about - to create or contribute to a certain result in the realm of fact. A value is a general commitment to honor, respect, protect, embody, or enact a quality or concern.

Some people confuse goals and values. They say, "Our goal this year is outstanding customer service." But that's too vague to be a goal. It isn't specific enough as to what fact will be created and how it will be measured or recognized. Outstanding Customer Service isn't a good or proper goal. But it's a great value. It's a fantastic general commitment that can suggest specific goals that are easily measurable and recognizable.

Values generate goals. But here's the equally important news. Values generate other values. For any value that suggests a new goal, there are often other values that lie behind it. And it's just as important to have the right values behind your choices and actions as it is to have the right goals.

Let me explain. If your commitment in the new year is outstanding customer service, if that's a driving value for you, then you should ask yourself why. Why do I value outstanding customer service?

Maybe, on reflection, you will come to realize that you want to be well known, or even famous for pleasing your customers. You want the praise and the reputation that will result. You also may value the financial benefits that often accrue to people who deliver great customer service. These are all common answers. And there's nothing wrong with wanting these things. People can properly value praise, reputation, and wealth. But they aren't the best ultimate values to drive the more immediate value of outstanding customer service.

Here's the contrast. There are other individuals who ask "Why?" about the value of outstanding customer service, and end up with the answer, "Because I really care about other people, and they always deserve the best I can give." That answer expresses the values of altruism and personal excellence. Those are the greatest drivers of more immediate values. Those are the answers that will help you to set, pursue, and stay consistent with the best and most worthy goals. Ironically, they'll also give you a better reputation, and often more wealth, than the guy just chasing reputation and wealth.

The commitments behind our commitments matter. They are where we get our ultimate strength. If you can get your inner house in order, at the deepest levels, you can fly the highest and do the best over the longest time frame. And that's the power of values.