Category: Philosophy

  • True Before You

    I want to unfold.
    Nowhere I wish to stay crooked, bent;
    for there I would be dishonest, untrue.
    I want my conscience to be
    true before you;
    want to describe myself like a picture I observed
    for a long time, one close up,
    like a new word I learned and embraced,
    like the everday jug,
    like my mother’s face,
    like a ship that carried me along
    through the deadliest storm.
    — Rainer Maria Rilke, I Am Much Too Alone in This World, Yet Not Alone

    One need not be religious to reach for the divine. We may aspire for a level of consciousness and growth that prods us along on our journey through life, reaching ever-higher towards something more than this. Arete, or personal excellence, is a human aspiration for the divine, for which we know we’ll fall short. But reaching for it is the thing.

    We have this one shot at things. We’re told that if we do it right once is enough. It’s the doing it right part that’s the trick. What’s right for you may not be right for me. Life is a deadly storm with no survivors. To know this and still set the sails for a journey of a lifetime is audacious and liberating. Decide what to be and go be it.

    Truth is discovered through awareness and a ritual of keeping the blinders off. It’s cleaning the hazy film off the mirror and having a closer look. Truth is something that unfolds before us. We write it down, think it through, move towards something more visceral. Repeat. That’s where this writer has lingered lately (as if you had to be told). With every blank screen, with every word pondered and debated (Is this too much truth?) Just where are we taking this? How close to the truth do we dare to go anyway?

    If that sounds too serious and self-absorbed, well, believe me, I think so too. Blogging is simply the laying of breadcrumbs along this path of discovery. We’re on our way to find out. Have a laugh at the imperfections even as we strive for some measure of improvement. We’re all doing the best we can given the spoiler of how it all ends. That, friends, is the truth.

  • One Dance Left

    This whole damn world could fall apart
    You’ll be okay, follow your heart
    You’re in harm’s way, I’m right behind
    Now say you’re mine
    You’ve got the music in you
    Don’t let go
    You’ve got the music in you
    One dance left
    This world is gonna pull through
    Don’t give up
    You’ve got a reason to live
    Can’t forget
    We only get what we give

    — New Radicals, You Get What You Give

    You Get What You Give was released in 1998, which was surely a monumental year in my life. After this weekend, I’ll always think of the song differently, yet just the same. It neatly bookends a few chapters in this epic we’re collectively writing in our lives, and maybe you strongly associate it with a few moments in your own life too. Some songs seem to stir up emotion and magic in just the right way. Thank the DJ for spinning the playlist so breathtakingly right.

    And after the music stops, after the guests have all gone home, what then? Look around. There’s so much more to do. We can’t give it all up now, friend. For life is about momentum. It’s the Jim Collins analogy about pushing the flywheel: It wasn’t any one push, it was pushing every day that built all that we have in our lives. Momentum works for or against us. A little rest and recovery is necessary, but we must know when to rise back up to meet the next moment.

    And that moment? Here it comes, ready or not. Best to be prepared to meet it, don’t you think? After all, we only get what we give.

  • Be a Part

    Look around you, look up here
    Take time to make time, make time to be there
    Look around, be a part
    Feel for the winter, but don’t have a cold heart
    — Little River Band, Lady

    After a summer of vigorous discipline, immediately followed by a week of frenzied activity leading up to a major family event, bookended by even more significant events, I can feel that it’s just about time to look around and figure out where to set the compass next. Our cadence of living changes as we say yes to so many things. This is the price of a full, expansive life. We may welcome all that it brings while still recognizing the need to take a breather now and then.

    Living in the moment demands a level of awareness and participation higher than the average. We are here and present, and also in the act of being fully alive. Really, it can be quite exhausting. And fighting the desire to simply veg out for awhile is ever more challenging. We must take time to be there, but also to not be there now and then. Awareness includes knowing when to say enough is enough. Maybe the answer is, enough of those things, let’s try these other things instead. We know when we get there what is right for us right now.

    The U.S. Army had a slogan used to recruit more ambitious candidates: Be all you can be. I think it’s appropriate to adopt this slogan for our own standard of living, even for those of us who opt for the civilian life instead. Being is participatory. We have a shelf life for personal excellence (arete) and the clock is ticking. Breathe in, breathe out, and move on to the next great adventure. We have the opportunity to be a part of it. Seize it.

  • The Moments Between

    “The moments between your milestones are not filler.” — Nelou Keramati

    We know a milestone moment when we’re in it. It’s often marked on the calendar months or years ahead of time, carefully planned for and anticipated with excitement. Bucket list trips, weddings, reunions and graduations are milestone moments, and tend to dominate our thoughts for the time leading up to them and in our memories well after. And naturally, they deserve our full attention.

    But let’s not forget the moments between, the days when simply being alive within our routine existence occurs. This is the stuff of life—these days of work and hobbies and tedious chores practiced daily. Practicing awareness and intent in these moments too are our building blocks for a greater standard.

    Living an excellent life demands our best effort even on our average days if we are to raise our average. Leaning in to the daily activities that stimulate growth and development, stir and inspire, and demand more of us brings us closer to that more fulfilling life we aspire to. Each day is filled with something, why would we settle for less than is possible?

  • Rest in the Grace

    When despair for the world grows in me
    and I wake in the night at the least sound
    in fear of what my life and my children’s lives may be,
    I go and lie down where the wood drake
    rests in his beauty on the water, and the great heron feeds.
    I come into the peace of wild things
    who do not tax their lives with forethought
    of grief. I come into the presence of still water.
    And I feel above me the day-blind stars
    waiting with their light. For a time
    I rest in the grace of the world, and am free.
    — Wendell Berry, The Peace of Wild Things

    There is reassurance to be found in witnessing the dignity with which so many who, seeing the darkness in the world, have chosen light instead. There is calm to be discovered in poetry spun from words magically sorted together in clarifying and entrancing ways. And surely—even now—there are still wild places far from the noise of life where we may find stillness.

    If we are indeed what we consume, does it make sense to soak up the anger, fear and misery imposed by a world that wants us to buy in, or to shun it in favor of a more natural information diet? What liberates us from the shackles of a maddening world? With clarity and focus, we are better equipped to find what we seek. And even that which we aren’t fully aware we’re in need of. In moving away from the noise of the world, we may finally hear what was whispering for us all along.

  • Boundless As the Elements

    “There is no theory. You have only to listen. Pleasure is the law. I love music passionately. And because l love it, I try to free it from barren traditions that stifle it. It is a free art gushing forth — an open-air art, boundless as the elements, the wind, the sky, the sea. It must never be shut in and become an academic art.”
    ― Claude Debussy

    Listen to Clair de Lune again, having read Debussy’s purpose for writing music. There’s magic in the music, released to dance in the moonlight—and with our imagination. It’s a breathtaking journey taken five minutes at a time. Sometimes I’ll simply play it on repeat and write, that I may reach the places the piece will take me to. May we all reach that level of mastery in our own work.

    Debussy was inspired to write Clair de Lune by a poem of the same name, written by Paul Verlaine. The poem is breathtaking in it’s own right, and one can see why Debussy drew inspiration from it. We in turn may draw inspiration from each ourselves. L’amour vainqueur et la vie opportune

    Below is a wonderful translation of it by Chris Routledge in The Reader:

    Votre âme est un paysage choisi
    Que vont charmant masques et bergamasques
    Jouant du luth et dansant et quasi
    Tristes sous leurs déguisements fantasques.

    Tout en chantant sur le mode mineur
    L’amour vainqueur et la vie opportune,
    Ils n’ont pas l’air de croire à leur bonheur
    Et leur chanson se mêle au clair de lune,

    Au calme clair de lune triste et beau,
    Qui fait rêver les oiseaux dans les arbres
    Et sangloter d’extase les jets d’eau,
    Les grands jets d’eau sveltes parmi les marbres.

    Your soul is a select landscape
    Where charming masqueraders and bergamaskers go
    Playing the lute and dancing and almost
    Sad beneath their fantastic disguises.

    All sing in a minor key
    Of victorious love and the opportune life,
    They do not seem to believe in their happiness
    And their song mingles with the moonlight,

    With the still moonlight, sad and beautiful,
    That sets the birds dreaming in the trees
    And the fountains sobbing in ecstasy,
    The tall slender fountains among marble statues.

    — Paul Verlaine, Clair de Lune (Moonlight)

    Here lies the beauty of the creative life. We write and create art that represents our verse, shared with humanity for as long as beauty rises above tyranny. Life is surely bounded with an expiration date stamped for each of us. Our timelessness isn’t our physical presence, it’s the ripple of spiritual presence carried onward through relationships (love) and our creative expression, as boundless as the elements (should we set it free).

  • Pacing our Quest

    You must turn back to the simple things, just as your dream says, to the forest.
    There is the star. You must go in quest of yourself, and you will find yourself again only in the simple and forgotten things.
    Why not go into the forest for a time, literally?
    Sometimes a tree tells you more than can be read in books.
    — Carl Jung

    Up earlier than normal, I read a book of poetry by a well-known author. One singular poem within it, read in a moment of searching, prompted me to buy it. Reading it again, I can’t for the life of me see it the same way. Everything has its time—we are the ones rushing through life.

    Lately, I’ve found myself licking my finger to turn the page well before I reach the end of the one I’m on in my haste to move forward in my reading. It’s a habit born of heavy non-fiction reading, and forcing myself forward to just get through some paragraphs I’d otherwise be lost in trying to understand. That may be okay for textbooks, but surely not appropriate for poetry.

    There’s a lesson here: we must know where we are in our lives and adjust our pace accordingly. Our pace of life isn’t meant to always be frenetic. We can make a case that it should never be. One day perhaps I will return to that book receptive to what that poet had to say. In the meantime, it rests on a shelf with all the others. Books are far more patient than people are.

    Pace is the thing. The right pace will lead us to awareness, holding our hand even as we try to pull away at every new thing crying for our attention. We must learn to slow down and see what we’ve been rushing past. Just as a poem isn’t meant to be quickly scanned on our way to the next, our hours are only ours when we pause this mad dash through our days and set a more gentle pace.

    What are we really trying to find anyway? Meaning? Knowledge? Satisfaction? These aren’t scooped up like power-ups in a video game. It isn’t found on the next page, or the next chapter of our lives, it’s found here and now, waiting for us to slow down enough to notice. We must pace our quest accordingly, if we ever hope to find what we thought was somewhere else.

  • That Ain’t Us

    Yes, there are two paths you can go by, but in the long run
    There’s still time to change the road you’re on
    — Led Zeppelin, Stairway to Heaven

    We forget sometimes that change is dynamic. We make choices, live with the consequences and if we are lucky, get to react to the changes they bring to pivot when appropriate. Or simply double down on the road we’re on now.

    Decide what to be and go be it. If we don’t like being that character, change into someone entirely new. We get to re-write the script again and again in a lifetime, unless we really screw up. Choices, like changes, are incremental. We rarely reach a path of no return. We simply find that returning to who we once were isn’t all that appealing anymore.

    Having reached a place I recently aspired to be at, I have decisions to make once again: Go by the same path I’m currently on or try something new. New is often our best bet. We may take the best of what’s working and build a new path with that skillset and curated stack of good habits. This is how we all learn and grow and evolve towards our potential, by forging a new path with the best we’ve picked up along the way. And those things that don’t fit this new version of us can stay on the path behind us, because that ain’t us anymore.

  • The Restless Surge

    Little one, you have been buzzing in the books,
    Flittering in the newspapers and drinking beer with lawyers
    And amid the educated men of the clubs you have been getting an earful of speech from trained tongues.
    Take an earful from me once, go with me on a hike
    Along sand stretches on the great inland sea here
    And while the eastern breeze blows on us and the restless surge
    Of the lake waves on the breakwater breaks with an ever fresh monotone,
    Let us ask ourselves: What is truth? what do you or I know?
    How much do the wisest of the world’s men know about where the massed human procession is going?

    You have heard the mob laughed at?
    I ask you: Is not the mob rough as the mountains are rough?
    And all things human rise from the mob and relapse and rise again as rain to the sea?
    — Carl Sandburg, On the Way

    These days I see more clearly, and I chafe at certain things that used to wash over me. We learn and grow and become someone hopefully better than the character we were before. Each step is revelatory, each step confronts others with the changes within us. That confrontation is sometimes reflected back towards us in subtle ways. Pokes and prods—just to see if the illusion shatters or if there is a new truth to the story of who we are now.

    We rise, relapse and rise again in a lifetime of growth and stumbles, but our story is always set in the present. What has become of us? Where is this going? And just who will join us on our way, and do we dare to wonder—who won’t?

    “I am”… I said
    To no one there
    And no one heard at all
    Not even the chair
    — Neil Diamond, I Am… I Said

    This restless surge of change relentlessly washes away the sandcastles of fragile identity. We are obliged to rebuild them every day, or we are swept away into something entirely different. Made up of the same substance—nothing but grains of sand in our time, yet no longer the same. Only we know the truth of who we are, only we may hear the call. If we dare to listen.

  • The Beauty of Enough in the Pursuit of Excellence

    “Never let the quest for more distract you from the beauty of enough.” ― Sahil Bloom

    “If you are going to achieve excellence in big things, you develop the habit in little matters. Excellence is not an exception, it is a prevailing attitude.” — Colin Powell

    How much is enough? For many, there’s never enough. But what about us? How much money do we need? How much time do we trade in exchange? What would we use that time for if not this relentless pursuit of more? These are questions worthy of consideration if we are to live a life of optimization—if we are to reach a place closer to arete, or personal excellence.

    So what is that place? Personal excellence is different for all of us. For me if means reaching a higher level of being. Writing this blog every day is one step on that journey. Reading every day is likewise essential. And so is the admittedly aggressive fitness plan I’ve been on that has resulted in my losing 11% of my previous body weight. The arrival of a leaner version of me isn’t the point, it’s the daily ritual reckoning of choosing to be what I decided to be that brings me closer to my version of arete. We know we’ll never arrive there, but the journey to it is the whole point.

    Personal excellence is not a relentless pursuit of more, it’s a consistent refinement of who we are. It’s not about accumulation of wealth or the fancy car or the private jet. It’s about learning to live a life of significance and purpose. That prevailing attitude of refinement and self-improvement towards someone better in all areas of our lives is what bridges the gap between who we are and who we might become.

    Is there a conflict between the beauty of enough and the pursuit of excellence? Our journey should always be towards the person we wish to become (decide what to be and go be it), and our identity is reinforced by incremental, daily effort in that direction. Making the bed in the morning, or washing the dishes, or doing the workout, or writing the blog post before stepping into a busy life—these are the realization of enough through active presence in our daily rituals on this journey of a lifetime. And that, friends, is beautiful.