Tag: Philosophy

  • The Bows and the Arrows

    Your children are not your children.
    They are the sons and daughters of Life’s longing for itself.
    ..

    You may house their bodies but not their souls,
    For their souls dwell in the house of tomorrow, which you cannot visit, not even in your dreams.
    ..

    You may strive to be like them, but seek not to make them like you.
    For life goes not backward nor tarries with yesterday.
    You are the bows from which your children as living arrows are sent forth.
    The Archer sees the mark upon the path of the infinite, and He bends you with His might that His arrows may go swift and far.

    Let your bending in the Archer’s hand be for gladness;
    For even as He loves the arrow that flies, so He loves also the bow that is stable.
    – Kahlil Gilbran, The Prophet

    One by one the Grands stood up and told a favorite story about Pops. All of them good speakers, confident in the acceptance of the audience, and also in themselves. And this would have been his favorite part of the night. For he knew, as the generation between Pops and the Grands has learned, that the Grands are the arrows flying into the future. And we are but the bows that send them there.

    Admittedly its funny to think of yourself as a bow when you’re still flying along as an arrow towards your own future landing place. To be an arrow is to be actively reinventing yourself, using whatever momentum you have to muster. Sometimes you get a favorable wind to carry you along, sometimes the wind isn’t your friend, but you’re flying nonetheless. And with only a general idea of your direction, the rest just a mystery unfolding in front of you.

    When you stack four generations in a room to celebrate the life of one powerful bow you see a lot of arrows flying in different directions, but every one of them flying. To celebrate is what he wanted most of all, and he’d have beamed at the arrows he helped launch. And now that his arrow has landed, I suppose the rest of us have to provide the favorable wind for each other.

    I didn’t think of bows and arrows as each grandchild spoke, I thought about that grandchild and the incredible spirit they each have. They’re each still rising on their own trajectory, but with so much more momentum than I had at their respective ages. And that’s what we all want; the next generation to build off our own momentum and be an even more powerful force in the universe than we can be ourselves. Flying onward, seeding the future with the powerful spirit of those that sent them there. Watch them soar.

  • The World As We Know It

    “… and anyhow travel is over, like one’s books and the rest of civilization” – Rose Macaulay

    This Macaulay quote, plucked from the extraordinary Erik Larson book The Splendid and the Vile, was from a letter that she wrote to a friend after her London flat was destroyed in 1941 during one of the many attacks the city suffered, wiping out all of her books and personal belongings accumulated over her lifetime to that point. I found this particular quote profound because in many ways I feel that way about 2020, when the idea of travel and any semblance of civilized discourse seems illusive at best. It shines as a reminder that others have been in far worse places than we’re in now, and this too shall pass. The war eventually ended and some level of civilization returned. Macaulay went on to travel extensively, writing some best sellers along the way.

    Of course, I can’t just read a quote like that and not look into the source, and Macaulay doesn’t disappoint. I’ve added her to the list of authors I need to invest more time with once the stack of books has reached a respectable level of completion. For now, here are a couple of quotes from Dame Rose Macaulay that particularly resonated for me:

    “It wasn’t really touching to be young; it was touching not to be young, because you had less of life left. Touching to be thirty; more touching to be forty; tragic to be fifty; and heartbreaking to be sixty. As to seventy, as to eighty, one would feel as one did during the last dance of a ball, tired but fey in the paling dawn, desperately making the most of each bar of music before one went home to bed.” – Rose Macaulay, Dangerous Ages

    Life, for all its agonies…is exciting and beautiful, amusing and artful and endearing…and whatever is to come after it — we shall not have this life again.” – Rose Macaulay

    I suppose the takeaway from each of the three quotes is familiar ground for readers of this blog. The world as we know it will continue to change, and so must we. Savor the dance to the last note. Savor youth while you have it and the moments always. And in the darkest days, remind yourself that the world will be there for you when you’re ready or able to venture out into it once again.

  • That Fire Was

    “Ashes denote that fire was;
    Respect the grayest pile
    For the departed creature’s sake
    That hovered there awhile.
    Fire exists the first in light,
    And then consolidates, —
    Only the chemist can disclose
    Into what carbonates.” – Emily Dickinson, Fire

    I once climbed into a cave deep in the Grand Canyon and observed the soot accumulated on the ceiling from fires generations years ago. I’ve had similar observations in fireplaces in the castles of Scotland and the old forts of North America. And I’ve come across old fire pits deep in the woods. And I’ve often wondered, who gathered around this fire? What was their story?

    With Autumn we start gathering around fires more often, warmed by the glowing embers and infused with smoky thoughts. Inevitably I think back on other fires I’ve gathered around, sometimes with the same cast of characters, sometimes with their echoes, and wonder where the time goes. The burning coals I stir become the ashes I scatter when they cool, like memories cooled with time. And I wonder, who will come across my own fire’s ashes?

    And now, what coals are you stirring?

  • Willing to be Dazzled

    Still, what I want in my life
    is to be willing
    to be dazzled—
    to cast aside the weight of facts
    and maybe even
    to float a little
    above this difficult world.”
    – Mary Oliver, The Ponds


    Maybe it’s the dulling effect of years staring at screens, where every moment is designed to dazzle you into staying. Don’t click away! Stay! Wait, look at this! I believe too many people have lost their willingness to be dazzled by the world. And that’s a shame. The world can be dazzling indeed.

    I quickly fall behind when people start listing the shows they’ve watched. I’ve watched a few, but I just can’t commit to binge-watching every episode of every series that’s been recommended. I feel like I’m missing out when I watch an early afternoon football game, not because I don’t love the game, but because its three hours of time that I might have spent outdoors or in conversation with someone of significance. I recognize that this makes me a bit different than the norm. I never professed to be normal.

    We’re halfway through September. Personally a rough month in a year so rough many would soon forget it. The weight of facts are overwhelming. There’s far more on my mind than being dazzled this week, but that’s the very time to open your eyes to the world and find the magic. For its out there waiting for you should you take the time to see. The sun still rises and sets, mountains and oceans still mark time and the world keeps spinning. There’s a Carolina Wren singing to me even as I write this as if to remind me the world is still here. And so must we be.

  • For this Moment

    I’m a bit lost this morning with the writing. Most days it comes naturally. Not so much today. This morning I found a lovely poem that I thought might be a great starting point but, upon reflection, reserved it for a eulogy I’m writing. Unless I scrap it for another passage I’m contemplating. But either way I just can’t use it for myself at this moment.

    And so there’s my dilemma. Write what I’m thinking at the moment for a blog post, for the eulogy, or perhaps even the novel I’m slowly chipping away at that doesn’t seem so important today. And so I simply write and let the words come as they may. There will be other times for observation of the world at large. For the moment the writing turns inward. And there’s that word again: Moment. Here we are.

    Living for the moment seems a bit selfish, really. It’s the grasshopper not preparing for winter the way the ants do. But living in this moment, well, that’s a bit different, isn’t it? Living in this moment is being present. And so I’m embracing the moment at hand, filled with wonder yet sadness, possibility with reflection. There are things to do at the moment, while honoring the things you can no longer do, or perhaps never could. In the moment distracts. This moment clarifies.

    So get on with it already.

  • The Path of Further Understanding

    “If you think it is ever warranted to stop on the path of further understanding, you are very far from the truth. The life which we received was given to us not that we might just admire it, but that we should ever look for new truth hidden from us.” – Leo Tolstoy, quoting John Milton

    I thought I was pretty clever stacking up my list of quotes and observations about the ocean, at the ready for a sailing trip northward in the Gulf of Maine. But plans change, as I wrote yesterday. And sailing will have to wait for another year and another boat. Other forces are at play now. So today I return to introspection on my own path to understanding. This year is full of moments of clarity, but also searing injustices that are difficult to understand. We do what we can to discover the truth hidden from us.

    “Well the heart that hurts
    Is a heart that beats
    Can you hear the drummer slowing
    One step closer to knowing…”
    – U2, One Step Closer

    U2 writes big arena songs that lift people up out of their seats in unison. And I love rising out of my seat with the rest of the arena. But for me, their songs of quiet reflection often left off the set list stick with me long after the adrenaline of the big songs wears off. One Step Closer is one of those songs, and I found the lyrics running through my head when I woke up this morning. Losing a loved one shakes distractions away abruptly, even when expected. And serve as reminders that we’re all one step closer to knowing stir such remembered words from the cobwebs of the mind. The truth is always waiting for us to find it.

    Is there a bigger cliche than “We’re all on this journey together”? I’m guilty of using it several times in this blog. And yet it rings true. Those who came before us offer the accumulated wisdom of their lifetimes to light the path. Our own accumulated wisdom adds familiarity and confidence that we might know the way. But none of us know where the path leads us beyond the next step. We can only walk the path as countless souls have before us and be fully present on the way. It helps to remember that we don’t walk it alone.

  • Prominence

    “Make sure you’re not made ‘Emperor,’ avoid that imperial stain. It can happen to you, so keep yourself simple, good, pure, saintly, plain, a friend of justice, god-fearing, gracious, affectionate, and strong for your proper work. Fight to remain the person that philosophy wished to make you. Revere the gods, and look after each other. Life is short—the fruit of this life is a good character and acts for the common good.” – Marcus Aurelius, Meditations

    Lately I’ve been contemplating prominence. It started with Little Haystack Mountain, an impressive 4760 foot summit, relegated to the role of supporting actor due to its prominence of only 79 feet from nearby Mount Lincoln (5089/180). Or consider poor North Carter Mountain, 4531 feet tall but an almost embarrassing 59 feet of prominence from its cousin Middle Carter Mountain, which by comparison is 4610 feet with a prominence of 720 feet. North Carter didn’t even have a cairn or USGS marker designating its summit. I walked right by it until called back by a savvier hiking friend with a GPS tracker.

    If all this seems like a lot of numbers, well, I’m with you. To me a summit – no matter how prominent it may be – is a worthy accomplishment and very much worth celebration. With both Little Haystack and North Carter I lingered with friends to savor the moment before considering the next destination. Prominent or not, both summits took a fair amount of energy to reach and deserved their moment of appreciation. My mind danced as joyfully on Little Haystack as it did on Lincoln. Perhaps more so because in reaching it the world opens up around you. Why negate the accomplishment because of prominence?

    We live in a world where prominence is everything. How many followers do you have? How many likes did you get on your last post? What school did you attend? What was your class rank? How quickly did you reach a C-level position? Who did you marry? Where do you live? What kind of car do you drive? Where do you go on holiday? It seems that no matter how high your personal summit, it doesn’t matter unless you’ve achieved some measure of prominence. Of course its mostly nonsense that churns away in our own brain, perhaps fueled by co-conspirators like a parent or spouse who wants the best for you, if only for bragging rights at the next cocktail party (remember those?). Your prominence is your identity to some others.

    But not all others. Some celebrate your personal summit and ignore your prominence. Those are the people you want in your life, not the posers who skip right past the lesser summits to check in where there’s status. The trick is knowing who to celebrate with, and who to ignore as you focus on your climb. I sometimes shake my head at people who leapfrogged over others to reach VP titles or collect Board of Director positions like some magnets of places they’ve been. Prominence is a game really, and the question is who do you want to play the game with? How much is enough? Who is a true friend and who is an acquaintance who pays lip service and then quickly moves on to the next summit?

    Our worst critics are often ourselves. All those questions above? How many do we ask ourselves as we compare our own prominence to that of others we know? If achievement is associated with height, comparison is associated with prominence. But comparison is a fools game that negates your achievements when stacked up next to others. Skate your lane and stop worrying about what others are achieving. Focus on what matters. Celebrate each day and each accomplishment, no matter how prominent it may be. And by all means keep climbing and stretching your limitations. Be supportive of others as they make their own climb. Give and receive support on this epic slog. Fight to remain the person that philosophy wished to make you.

  • Unfolding Your Own Myth

    “Don’t be satisfied with stories, how things have gone with others. Unfold your own myth.” – Rumi

    There are a lot of stories out there. Stories of accomplishment, stories of conquest, stories of adventure and love and tragedies overcome. Humanity is full of stories. The ones we tell others to make them believe we’ve got it all figured out. The ones we tell ourselves to make ourselves believe we haven’t got anything figured out. Stories rule our lives.

    There are stories of who we’ve been, and what we’ve overcome to get here. And those stories are admirable. But lately I’m thinking more about where are you going now stories. Here we are, good, bad and all that lies in the middle. Thankfully we all woke up today, so what are we going to do with it?

    I like this Rumi challenge; unfold your own myth. Aren’t we all just works in progress doing the best we can with the pile of skills and experience and instinct that we woke up with this morning? Aren’t we all slowly unfolding our own myth? Is that myth a fighter of social media troll battles or a climber of mountains? Couch potato or fit and active? The person who hides in their job or the linchpin that keeps things going? Aspiring writer or actively writing?

    “Rise free before the dawn, and seek adventures.” – Henry David Thoreau

    Today is a random Wednesday in a string of weeks that make up 2020. We all have obligations to consider and honor, of course, but what of the rest of our time? Tell me, what is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life? Just what kind of myth are we unfolding anyway? Make it a good one.

  • On Discipline

    Look at a river as it moves toward the sea. It creates its own banks that contain it. When there’s something within you that moves in the right direction, it creates its own discipline. The moment you get bitten by the bug of awareness.” – Anthony de Mello, Awareness

    Sometimes I fight active avoidance in the work I do, and find myself pushing through tasks that I have no desire to tackle. There are plenty of things that make my mind overflow the banks and wander in the wrong direction, and the pandemic has illuminated my routine and forced me to reconcile what matters in the job, in writing and in exercise and fitness. But the days flow differently when you’re constantly working from home. Work time blends into off time and vice versa. Writing time this morning was blown up by casually reading work email and reacting to the urgency of others. Discipline is not just doing the right things, its not doing other things at the wrong time. Learning, and re-learning, to say no or not yet.

    “Discipline equals freedom.” – Jocko Willink

    This is where those handy habit loops become an essential part of your day. They allow you to keep promises you make to yourself to keep moving forward. For the most part those habit loops have kept me on track, but I see some drift in my habits over the last month, beginning with vacation when the only thing I stuck with was the writing. Deep inside you know when things are off, and when corrective action is needed. Reflect on your current course, and then decide what to be and go be it.

    It is a simple two-step process:
    1. Decide the type of person you want to be.
    2. Prove it to yourself with small wins.
    – James Clear, Atomic Habits

    When you’re on the right path, doing the work is relatively easy. Sure, you can drift now and then, but resetting is natural, like setting the sails when the wind shifts. Discipline, when applied to the work you love, becomes natural through repetition. And that’s the trick, doing what you love. Following your path. Sounds positively dreamy, but there’s truth in it. Hate your work? You’ll be miserable as you force yourself down the trail of tears. Love your work? The word work disappears altogether and you focus on optimization instead. Yeah, optimization. I said it. There’s a business-speak word for you, but seriously, isn’t it better love what you do and focus on making the most of your day instead of hating what you do and focus on making it through the day?

    “Let yourself be silently drawn by the strange pull of what you really love. It will not lead you astray.” – Rumi

    I’m not one of those writers who pretends to have it all figured out. This blog is me figuring it out in writing. We’re all works in progress, aren’t we? Might as well enjoy the work as it progresses.

  • Merely Time

    “Life will follow the path it started upon, and will neither reverse nor check its course; it will make no noise, it will not remind you of its swiftness.“ – Seneca, On The Shortness Of Life

    I re-read Seneca’s On The Shortness Of Life again over the last few days. Its a quick read but jammed full of timeless quotes we’ve all heard and yet don’t hear. They say repetition penetrates the dullest of minds, and perhaps thats a reason to re-read essays like this often. By dull I don’t mean I’m an idiot (though you may insist I reconsider), but rather distracted by the madness of life. We’re all so distracted by the whirl of everyday that we don’t value the breathless moment we’ll never see again. Seneca pokes at us from a distance- he’s been dead far longer than he was alive. And so will we be someday too soon. And so it is that he reminds us; why are you not fully alive today? Stop postponing time you don’t have!

    “Postponement is the greatest waste of life; it deprives them of each day as it comes, it snatches from them the present by promising something hereafter. The greatest hindrance to living is expectancy, which depends upon the morrow and wastes to-day.”

    It isn’t easy to honor the urgency of life. Even as I write this I’m distracted by other pressing things and need to force myself to turn off the work monitor until normal working hours. To turn off the Twitter feed, and all the rest of the noise. And to reflect on what matters now. For now will surely slip away as quickly as then did. The stack of thens grows taller by the day, casting a shadow on the brightness of tomorrow. There is only now.

    Life is divided into three periods – that which has been, that which is, that which will be. Of these the present time is short, the future is doubtful, the past is certain.”

    So what do we do in a pandemic when we can’t travel freely? In a career that demands fair share of your time? And in other commitments that demand of you? I believe we choose wisely, and make the most of the moments at hand. To live in this moment, drawing from the past for wisdom, and with an eye towards the future we’re navigating towards (even if we might never reach it). Making the most of our lives in the time we have.

    “The part of life we really live is small. For all the rest of existence is not life, but merely time”