It's a Beautiful Day

Sometimes when I'm trying to think of what to write about, I just open up my eyes and ears and look for something that's already a part of my life.  Sometimes it's a newspaper article or advertisement, sometimes it's a book that I'm reading, sometimes it's the memory of something that I saw happen yesterday or a few days ago.

Today, it was pretty easy--the song "Beautiful Sunday" was playing on my computer when I sat down.  "Birds are singing/here by my side/let's take the car and/let's go for a ride"--nice lyrics for any time.  It's not Sunday right now, but who cares?  Every day is quite simply a beautiful day.  Carole King also had a song called "Beautiful" that starts out "You've got to get up every morning with a smile on your face. . . . you're beautiful as you feel."

So much of our lives have to do with our own decisions concerning how we see the world.  If we wake up and see the day before us as drudgery, guess how we're going to approach that day, and guess how we're going to feel?  On the other hand, if we wake up and realize that we have a whole day of miraculous things like flowers and children and birds singing and the chance to learn more about our chosen careers, then guess what that day's going to be like?

Both kinds of days, of course, are affected by other people and their actions.  On the day full of drudgery, it's of course possible that a good friend or co-worker is going to lift our spirits.  And on the beautiful day, it's possible that someone's going to try to bring us down.  That's why in the former case, the lyrics to so many songs talk about the world being beautiful "because you're here by my side"; it's as if the world couldn't be a beautiful place without another person there to validate it for us.  Even the song that started this train of thought shows that tendency:  "When you say that you love me/It's a beautiful day."

But if we make the decision to look for the beauty in each day, there's no way that anyone else should be able to take it away from us.  Even if someone does try, we have the ability to reject those attempts and keep our day positive.  We do have the power to decide how we see things, and if we work to develop that power, then no one else will be able to change that decision.


The fact is, it is a beautiful day.  There's no difference between this day and any other day that we've seen as beautiful except our own personal situations today--it's exactly the same world as it was when we saw it as exceptional.  So make the choice today, tomorrow, and the next day--see the world for what it is, not for how it's reflecting our feelings, and then our feelings will start to reflect the beauty of the world, rather than the other way around.

The Hardest Choices

I went for a long run one Saturday morning long ago, and it was a glorious early-fall day.  The air was cool and clear, there was almost no traffic, and the trees were just beginning to turn.  I had found a new route that went almost entirely through wooded areas, and the beauty of the area was amazing.  It would have been a perfect run if it hadn't been for the chipmunk that I found on the road.

It looked like it had been hit by a car because it couldn't move anything behind its midsection.  It was clawing at the road with its front legs and looking around itself, but it simply couldn't move.

All of a sudden, I was faced with a dilemma that I didn't even want to consider.  I could do one of two things--I could continue running and leave the animal there on the road to suffer a great deal until it either starved to death, got run over by another car, or got eaten by some predator, or I could do the humane thing and kill it and put it out of its misery.  I didn't want to do either, of course, but I had to choose.

And the worst option for me was the best thing for the chipmunk.

Now, if I were a farmer or a rancher, this decision would have been very simple.  People who live and work with animals tend to have a very realistic vision of life and death, and they know that sometimes death is absolutely necessary.  But I haven't lived with animals my whole life--in fact, I've had very few pets.  So I was out there alone on the road with a small animal that needed me to make a decision, one that I never before had had to make.  And while I try my hardest to respect all life and let living creatures be, I knew in my heart that the only thing to do was to kill the chipmunk.  So I did, in the way that I thought would be the least painful to the animal that already was in a lot of pain (I won't go into the details).

As I ran away, I started to think of how suddenly the need to make a choice had come upon me, and how often such things happen.  If we find out that a friend is doing something illegal, do we tell his or her family, or the police?  If we know that a spouse has stolen from his or her workplace, do we report it?  Life is full of decisions that come upon us because of someone else's actions or inaction, and we have to be able to make those decisions that will allow us to live with clear consciences, if we're to continue to be the people we're meant to be.

Not all of the decisions are easy, especially when both of the options available to us are unpleasant.  I could have asked someone driving by to run over the animal, but I know that if I had, I would have passed on a responsibility that I knew was mine, and mine alone.  While I found the experience of killing a poor little animal to be extremely unpleasant, I knew all the time that I was doing something kind, not harmful, and that it was the best of all possible choices. Running away (literally) from the dilemma would have left me with a great deal of regret, knowing that I had left it there to suffer for who knows how long.

Now I kind of wonder if the chipmunk is going to visit me in a nightmare, but I don't think it will.  I believe its suffering ended long before it would have otherwise, and I'm pretty sure that I did the right thing.  The hardest choices usually aren't as clear-cut as this one was, and if the choice involves other people, they often will try to make you live to regret doing the right thing.  But if your conscience is clear, you can stand strong in the face of all criticism, knowing that you've done what you know to be right.


The hardest choices so often come upon us out of the blue, as the result of no actions of our own.  All of a sudden we find ourselves having to decide between two or three alternatives, all of which are unpleasant.  But which choice is the highest choice?  Which choice will bring the most legitimate benefits to the most people?  Which choice truly is right?  Your mind can rationalize all it wants, but your heart and spirit will tell you the truth.  Listen to the truth, and live by it.  The choices have to be made, one way or another.

This Day, This Moment

We've all heard and read about how today is the only day that we have, how this moment is all that we truly have, how yesterday and tomorrow really don't matter and that we must focus on living in this present moment if we're truly to be able to live happily.  While this sounds like a great philosophy, it raises many questions that seem to contradict it:  what about planning for tomorrow?  What about the lessons that we learned last week?  Does this mean that we shouldn't have the memories of the beautiful times in our past?  If we do truly live in this moment, doesn't that leave us open to many problems that planning and remembering could help us to overcome?

Well, yes and no.  Basically, the focus of this philosophy is on those things over which we have control, and this moment and its decisions and actions are the only things that we actually can control.  If I insulted someone yesterday, I no longer have control over that action--it's over and done with.  However, I do have control over today--my choices are mine.  Do I mope around, angry at myself for my insensitivity, beating myself up emotionally and calling myself horrible names?  Each moment that I continue in such behavior, I'm making a choice to beat myself up and not to pursue an alternative action such as apologizing for my behavior and allowing myself to continue with my life.

Perhaps my action occurred over a long period of time when I was thoughtless or harmful to others.  If that's true, acting ashamed and treating myself badly today isn't going to change anything that I did, but it will assure that I don't contribute anything positive to the world.  Allowing myself to go on and act differently right now will add a positive force to the world, a positive influence for many people to see.  Ebeneezer Scrooge is a wonderful example of this--once he found his change of heart, he was immediately happy and joyful, and he helped many people because of it.  He didn't waste time on regret, even though many of us would like to see such a person suffer to "pay for" the pain he's caused.  Their suffering, though, contributes nothing to the world except for giving us a warped sense of justice.  When those people change their ways and contribute positively to the world, then there's a change worth seeing.

Living for today also doesn't preclude planning for the future.  I know I have to go to work tomorrow, so one of the decisions I make today is to go to bed at a decent hour.  I know that my stepkids will be in college in a couple of years (one already is), so I decide today not to buy certain things, and to put money away to make the sting of helping to pay for college less painful.  I know that I'll probably be going into the same stores that I'm going into today, so I decide to be courteous and polite (and enough of this behavior turns it into a habit).  I know that when someone asks me tomorrow what I did today, I don't want to have to hide something that I'll be ashamed to admit, so I make the decisions today that will make it unnecessary for me to hide anything.

Besides, I have no control over what tomorrow brings.  How many times have we said no to some possibility because we have to do something else tomorrow, only to find that the something else never happens?  Tomorrow may bring a snowstorm or a bright sunny day that precludes many possibilities.  How many people didn't invest money anywhere except the stock market in the late 90's, sure that the market would continue to bring huge returns?  The decisions they made in the 90's to put their money in just one investment (stocks) brought about huge financial losses during our recession of ten years ago.  If I had ten thousand dollars to invest today (and I don't!), I would keep in mind that I can't predict or control what tomorrow will bring, so I'd invest the money in several different areas to offset possible disasters.

This moment offers you many riches.  Look around yourself, starting with the miracle of the computer that sits before you.  Think of the amount of information and processing power that the machine holds!  Look out a window at the buildings that we've built, the trees that are so beautiful and that provide oxygen for us to breathe, the flowers and the plants and the animals and insects.  Think of the people in your life, and the wonders that they are.

If you're carrying resentment or anger or cynicism, remember that it's your choice to do so--you can choose at this moment to let go of those feelings that are causes of stress and unease.  Or you can choose to hold on to them, guaranteeing yourself that you'll feel bad in this moment and in the coming moments.


The only actions or decisions that we have control over are those of this moment.  We can choose to appreciate and admire with a sense of wonder, or we can choose to take for granted and not appreciate with a sense of ungratefulness.  The important thing to keep in mind is that what we do in this moment is our choice, and what we choose to do now will leave a definite mark on our future moments.

Little Gifts

As the season for gift-giving comes upon us once more, we start to think a lot about gifts, those we're going to give, and those we're going to get.  As we grow older, hopefully, we focus more on the former than the latter, though that isn't always the case.  In the eyes of many people, gifts follow a simple rule:  the bigger the better.  Speaking realistically, though, that rule is far from valid.  In my life, I've found that the most important gifts that I've given and received have been the small ones that have special meaning.

When I sit at my desk and work, I always have around me plenty of small gifts that I've received from friends and students.  They do a great job of reminding me of people who have been a very important part of my life, and because they're small, they can go with me anywhere and I can keep plenty of them.  The memories of the people and the times I spent with them are much more important to me than the objects themselves, but the objects have the ability to refresh my memory of pleasant times at just a quick glance.

Even as I write, I see a small inch-high globe that a former student gave me at her graduation, and I remember how good she felt on that day.  I see a small dream catcher made out of colored pipe cleaners, and I remember the day at camp when one of the campers gave it to me as a gift.  There's also a small glass fish that my wife bought me when she was in the Bahamas, and I know how good it felt to know that someone was thinking about me when she was in such a lovely place.

The small gifts are the ones that keep me going, the ones that give me a great feeling inside.  They're the ones that let me know that someone tried to consider what I liked, and what would be most appropriate for me.

The same goes for when I give gifts--I try to find the small ones that are special to someone, the ones that show that I've considered who they are and what they would like.  From time to time I've bought the large gifts, but as time goes on I see that they don't have nearly the effect that the smaller ones do.

When we think about what kinds of gifts we're going to give this season, we always can choose to go for the gifts that are more special rather than the gifts that are more expensive of just plain big.  The most special gifts have nothing to do with money or size; rather, they reflect the fact that we've been thinking seriously about the recipient and what they would truly want to receive.  I would much rather get a small, cheap gift that shows that someone was thinking about me than a large expensive gift that's meant to impress me somehow.

Many people ruin their enjoyment of receiving gifts by allowing their expectations to blur their vision, not allowing themselves to see just how great a gift is because it might not be what they wanted, or it might not be big enough or special enough.  During this holiday season, we have choices to make on what types of gifts to give to others, and finding the very special ones is a great way to make the holidays special.  Likewise, we have choices to make as to how we react to gifts given to us by others, and we can make our holidays much brighter by recognizing how special gifts are.

Diversity

We all have been given an amazing gift on this planet, and that gift lies in the differences between us.  The perspectives that each person has are completely unique to each individual--even though we often decide to share certain things with others with whom we live--and if we truly respect those differences and try to learn what they are, they can teach us new and exciting ways of seeing our world.  When we decide that someone else is simply "wrong" because they don't see the world as we see it, then we close off any chances that we have to learn from them, instead becoming victims of our own ignorance and judgment. We have many, many lessons in nature and art that show us quite clearly that diversity is much more to be desired than conformity.  What would a painting look like if every color were the same, if it weren't given the opportunity to work with the other colors to stand out next to this one, to complement this other one, to create its own message?  One of the reasons that flowers are so beautiful is because they have subtle differences that distinguish them from each other, even when they look similar at first glance--and they always have the green of their leaves and stalks to complement the colors and shapes that they show the world.  And what if all our foods tasted the same?  We accept fully the fact that our foods should taste different, but somehow we find it disturbing or uncomfortable that other human beings should see the world differently from us. Just as many threads work together to form a beautiful tapestry or the many blocks make up a quilt, it takes many individuals to make up a community.  We've come to believe somehow that the fewer differences in opinion or perspective we have among members of communities, the fewer problems we'll have in those communities.  Because of this mistaken belief, we've striven to keep our communities stable by keeping out people who might be "different" from us.  We've even created myths or rumors to share with others so that the others also will believe that it would be bad to let these people into our communities.

If we are to achieve a richer culture, rich in contrasting values, we must recognize the whole gamut of human potentialities, and so weave a less arbitrary social fabric, one in which each diverse human gift will find a fitting place. Margaret Mead

And just what do we lose when we keep people out of our lives because of their skin color, religious beliefs, or ethnic heritage?  Mostly, we lose the opportunity to learn from someone else who sees the world in different ways.  We lose the chance to learn from rich cultural heritages that these people have spent their lives learning from, and that they can now pass on to us. Think about it this way:  If four people from completely different backgrounds were to get together for the very first time and have only twelve hours to spend together, what would be the best way for them to spend their time? Should they spend those twelve hours discussing life and lessons that they have learned about it, learning from each other as they do so? Or should they spend those twelve hours telling why what they think is right, and arguing that what the other three think is wrong? When we're faced with diversity in thought and perspective, we often spend so much of our time trying to prove that our perspective is the "right" one that we don't take the chance to learn about other perspectives, and perhaps even modifying our own perspectives a bit based on what we learn. One small example in my life was that as I grew up in America, I learned that it's perfectly fine to use the insult as humor, trying to make other people laugh by insulting someone.  Five years in Europe, though, taught me that this kind of humor is really mean, not funny--and the laughter that comes from it is based more on fear and feelings of superiority than it is on humor.  Because of what I learned by living in other cultures, I've been able to make important decisions about how I relate to other people, and that has made a huge difference in my life.

When you're finally up on the moon, looking back at the earth, all these differences and nationalistic traits are pretty well going to blend and you're going to get a concept that maybe this is really one world and why the hell can't we learn to live together like decent people? Frank Borman

To me, diversity is not about race or ethnic origin--I believe that these are artificial distinctions that we make between human beings in order to differentiate ourselves from others based on the most superficial of criteria.  Where humanity is concerned, skin color means nothing; country of origin means nothing, even gender means nothing.  Yes, there are certain traits that we develop as Russians or Algerians or Australians, or as men or women, but the truth is that in each body of each human a heart is beating, lungs are functioning, and a brain is calculating and considering and dreaming. Diversity, rather, is a question of the ways that we see and share the world, the ways that we react to stimuli and create the lives that we're living.  Much of the way that we see the world has to do with traits that we've adopted from those people who live around us, and therein lies what we see as "cultural" differences.  But those differences are not inborn in us--rather, they are adopted by us as we grow.  They can be extremely valuable and helpful in understanding other people, but they truly don't define us as human beings.  We tend to use them as our measure of diversity, though, because they're easy to see and to quantify and to understand. True diversity lies in our uniqueness, the aspects of ourselves that are truly ours alone, the ways that we understand life and living and our relationships with other human beings.  We see this true diversity not by looking at the skin, but by looking in the eyes and realizing that those eyes are the windows to a soul, an amazing being who is different than us, and who can teach us a great deal if we only take the chance to listen.

Some people do things completely differently from the way you would do them.  It does not mean that they are right or that you are wrong. It means that people are different.  There are things that people say which you would probably say in a different way, at a different time. It does not mean that people are wrong to speak up, to speak out, or to speak their minds.  Nor does it mean that you are wrong for choosing not to do so.  It means that people are different.  Different is not right or wrong.  It is a reality.  Differences become problems only when we choose to measure ourselves by our difference in an effort to determine who is right and who is wrong. Iyanla Vanzant

Our cultures and societies are richer and stronger for diversity, not weakened by it.  We will truly benefit from that diversity, though, only when we completely accept the fact that other human beings see life in ways that are different from our ways.  We aren't on this planet to make other people think and feel and act just like we do--we're here to work with others to help to make this world a more positive and more loving place. We now spend a huge amount of time trying to convince others that our ways of seeing the world are right, and theirs are wrong.  Think about how much we could get done together if we were to stop spending time this way, and instead spend time working together constructively to actually accomplish things that help other people to live their lives in more positive ways.  The shame of not accepting others for who they are and what they believe is that we limit our own potential concerning what we can accomplish in the short time that we're here on this planet.

Be Good!

I like the words "good" and "goodness."  They're simple words packed with meaning, and almost no two people in the world would agree on just what they mean.  Many people even disagree whether people's actions are motivations are good in their depths or if they're good on the surface.  For example, if a person gives a certain amount of money to a charity to avoid allowing his or her spouse to get that money in a divorce settlement, is the act a good act, or a selfish act?  It may be good that the charity gets the money, but many people want to stop there and not think things through more thoroughly--is it good that the charity gets money that the spouse might have needed desperately, but is now denied?

In such a case, one person's good is another person's bad.  Do the two sides balance out?

I believe that for an act or motive to be good, it truly has to be pure.  In other words, if I do a kind act for a neighbor, it's truly good only if I have absolutely no expectations of any sort of reciprocal benefit.  If I encourage someone, I have no expectations of any sort of thank you or other sign of gratitude.  I do it simply because I know that it's good and because I want to do good.

Because you see, if I do something "good" for you and expect your gratitude or some sort of reward in return, then I'm creating an obligation for you, one that you probably neither want nor need.  And if you don't fulfill that obligation, the results can end up being anger, frustration, and resentment on both of our parts--and how can such a result even remotely be considered good?  And if it ends up with such results, then the "good" of the original action was simply an illusion, not a truth.
So if I want to be good--and I do, even if I'm not sure what it means--I need to be aware of my motives and my desired outcomes for any action that I take.  Am I doing this just because I want to do something good?  If so, there's a good chance that the action I take is, in fact, good.

Being and doing good, I think, is mostly a matter of heart, and much less a matter of mind.  In our hearts, we know when we're doing good and we know when we're doing something to benefit ourselves, and it's important to listen to our hearts when they speak to us.  If we do this, we can be much more sure that what we're doing is, indeed, good.  I may help a neighbor with something to make her feel obligated to send a plate of cookies my way the next time she bakes, but my heart will know that my motive is not pure.  My heart will know it if I'm helping just to help, with no attempt to make her feel obligated.

And if a plate of cookies does appear without any attempt to make her feel obligated, then there's another good act in this world.  If she sends over the cookies because she knows I'm expecting them for having helped her, then just how "good" is her act?

There are, of course, acts that count as mutual goods.  Perhaps my co-worker is having a hard time with a certain task, and it ends up being my task at the end of the day.  Teaching him or her how to do the task and do it well is good for that person and for me, as I'll no longer be expected to take on that task, and I can focus on my own work.

When we examine our motives for doing the things we do, we start to change as people.  When we start to try to do good for the sake of good and not for any potential benefits, we start to become good people in our core, at heart.  When we start to be good, then we start to do things for motives that are much more pure, and we start to strengthen and reinforce the good that is in us.

A good person doesn't need to have ulterior motives for doing things--that person knows that when we do good, we greatly improve the quality of our own lives.  When we're good to other people, we strengthen the world and we strengthen ourselves, and we give the others a bit more faith in the goodness of life and humanity.  Goodness helps to destroy cynicism, and it helps others to see the world more brightly.  Being good helps us to avoid many kinds of stress, the kind that comes from fearing being caught doing something we shouldn't do or saying something we shouldn't say.

I want to be good, and I want to do good.  It isn't always easy, though, for there are almost always conflicting motives in the way of doing good.  Yes, I can help this person, but there's a cost of time.  Yes, I can do that good thing, but it will cost money.  That's definitely a good thing to do, but it's risky--I'll risk failure and I'll risk being criticized.  And saving time and money, of course, are two of out stronger desires as people, as is the avoidance of failure and criticism.  But the stakes are very high--do I want to look back five years from now and think of all the good I didn't do because of my fear, or all the good I did do in spite of my fear?  To me, the answer to that question is very obvious, and it's within my power--with every decision that I make--to answer it with the knowledge that I did, indeed, do every good I could.

Goodness consists not in the outward things we do, but in

the inward thing we are.  To be good is the great thing.

Edwin H. Chapin

Competence

Many people feel that once they get a certain job, that's it--there's nothing more to learn that can't be learned while they're working.  They might have taken two or four years of college courses to earn a certain degree, but now that they're earning a paycheck, the days of spending time studying the field are long gone.  "If I don't learn it at work," they seem to think, "then I don't need to know it."

And perhaps they're right.  It's possible that there are many things about their careers that they don't necessarily need to know.  But why is it that we so often choose not to learn more about the very work that we're getting paid for, while we were so willing to study as much as was asked for us while we were hoping and praying to find work in the first place?

The truth is that most people don't push themselves very hard even when they're taking the courses necessary to get the jobs they want.  Most people are satisfied with meeting the minimum requirements in order to get by, get their diploma or certificate, and move on with their lives.  This is one of the reasons for which it's often so difficult to find well qualified people to promote into important leadership roles:  very few people have distinguished themselves as leaders in their fields, preferring instead simply to get along with doing what's required of them, and little else.
There are a few very interesting truths, though, about striving to be more than just competent in our work.  First of all, it seems that the more we learn about our work, the easier and the more interesting it becomes to us.  Tasks that used to be tedious now make sense, and we see how they're related to other elements of our jobs.  Plus, they're easier to take care of now, so they don't bother us nearly as much when we need to do them.  When we know more about our work and its ramifications, we can see the connections between what we do and the effects that those things have on other people.

Secondly, as we become more competent, we accomplish more and we're able to branch out and include other things in our work.  As a teacher, for example, I find that the more I know about the topic I'm teaching, the more I'm able to pull in material from other realms.  As I become more competent at teaching Speech classes, I find it easier to relate material from other fields, such as Biology or History, to the material that we're studying in Speech.  I no longer have to stick to the base material, for I'm able to bring more to my students.

Thirdly, when we take the time to learn more about what we're doing, we're putting ourselves in the position of being more qualified than others when it comes time for promotions or advancement.  Very often, pay raises are based on job performance, and it's almost impossible to raise our knowledge level about our work without also raising the level of our performance.

Of course, there are some jobs that may not require competence above certain levels.  When I worked at the front desk of two hotels, my job was clearly defined and I didn't need to know much more than what I did.  However, there were other areas of the hotel that ran independently of the front desk, and I always had opportunities to learn about those.  Also, there were always new things to learn about the area surrounding the hotel, so if someone were looking for things to do or places to visit, there was always more to learn, and I could be much more helpful to the guests when I took the time to learn about the area.

Our culture doesn't seem to value competence as much as it used to.  Now we seem to want to do and get everything as quickly as possible, which often leads to mediocre work and products.  It seems to be the exception to find people at stores and businesses who are actually able to help us thoroughly with whatever problems we may have.  We accept poor service and poor workmanship as if we deserve it--and when we decide to make a stand about something, it usually has to do with price or rudeness, but not about competence.

Nowhere have I seen this as strongly as I have in our schools.  There are many, many wonderful teachers out there, but there are also a lot of people who are not at all competent in their jobs, yet they keep getting rehired and even rewarded for making it through a certain number of years, whether or not they've made any effort at all to address their own lack of competence.  I've known quite a few teachers who do little teaching at all--they simply hand out packets to their students and have them work on their own while the teacher works at his or her desk, often searching the Internet for this or that, but certainly not engaged actively with the students.

Competence is a choice, purely and simply.  And it's a choice made over and over again--the choice to read another book this week about my career field, to register for a course related to my work, to spend some extra time researching a topic that will help me to be better at what I do.  And it's a choice that may not show immediate dividends--it may take years to see the results of my efforts to be really good at what I do.  Even after more than twenty years of teaching, I took two courses this past year and went to several seminars of three days each over the summer, simply because I need to add to my knowledge, even after all this time.  I simply want to be good at what I do because I know that the people I work for--in my case, high school students--will be the ones who benefit from my abilities.  And they deserve me to be the best I can be at what I do.  I'll never be the best teacher ever, of course, but I can certainly try to be better this year than I was last year.

I am, as I've said, merely competent. But in an age

of incompetence, that makes me extraordinary.

Billy Joel