The Cooper stone masons, oblivious of my pecking at the laptop, helped me immeasurably. Their painstaking precision with several levels positioned just so, pieces of slate cut exactly to complement its stone neighbors, a piece here and there ever-so-slightly shifted after careful observation from all angles—a writing workshop just for me! As the simple, beautiful patio took shape, the writer peeking out the window found her groove as well.
Read More"The only mistake you can make is to give up hope." I often think of this statement from the Dalai Lama which closed his talk that I attended in 1998. His visit to this country last week heartened many, including President Obama in their meeting at the White House. About to turn 81, His Holiness was 77 when I wrote this blog. Truth ages well.
Read MoreI can’t begin to address the “educational system,” but I can point to an educational beacon and the people who make it work. Is the work hard? Yes, absolutely. I don’t know about its “system,” but Jack Jouett’s bedrock philosophy of love serves everyone well. Single purpose commitment to each student elevates the humanity of all.
Read MoreThe good news is that bigotry that’s been simmering and festering is now on full display. How humbling it should be for all. How about a national injection of charity? A softening gel for hearts? It's up to us, all of us. We will reap what we sow—we are reaping what we’ve sown.
Read MoreComposing their very own three-lined poems stands out as one of the all-time favorite activities for philosophers of all ages and interests. Everybody has poetry within! Grab a pad and pencil. Go outside if you can, look out a window perhaps, or dig into memory’s treasure box. Take a deep breath, exhale, you know…. Rhyming words at line’s end—who cares?! Getting it right—who knows?! How? Your 3 lines present a snapshot, capturing a moment in time.
Read MoreI sing the praises of my small charcoal grill that defines homecoming for my godsons Nelson and Will (and me) on their cross-country visits. No longer young apprentices, these now early twenty-somethings commandeer the operation. Nothing intervenes—snow, sleet, rain, nor my occasional (faint) reluctance. Our love renews as the corn turns.
Read MoreAs soon as we pre-package individuals before we know them, drawing conclusions as if we know them, they shrink, become diminished, and are absolutely not worthy. The tomboy on the playground and the gay man at work are fair game for emotional and physical violence. What about the single father and the unmarried woman? Whew! At least I'm not one of them. Is there a way to combat this very human tendency? Yes.
Read MoreWhile it was a rainy day in Cincinnati, it was sunny inside Evanston Academy. I thought about Plato’s image of wisdom growing as we exit a dark cave and gradually climb into the sunlight of mental clarity. What did the child philosophers teach me? I should continue spending time in classrooms with small chairs. I can gorge on simple pleasures, sunup, sundown.
Read MoreI hereby resolve to experience, fully, one day—(half day…half hour…breath and blink)—one laugh, handshake, moon, tear, and song at a time. Hopefully I can string moments together into savored days—for life.
Read MoreI thought of the statement from ancient Stoic philosopher Epictetus: “Everything has two handles, one by which you can carry it, the other by which you cannot” (Enchiridion). How to carry the reality of terrorist acts in the past and their likelihood in the future? We can only carry this burden within the circumstances of our personal lives. Each of us left the philosopher’s lunch to return to lives which hadn’t experienced terrorism directly, our homes geographically far from Paris and now Mali. You and I must find our own handles for lifting the heavy burden of terrorism. The handle used by Antoine Leiris or the terrorists? I’m lining up with Antoine. His weapons win.
Read MoreThe world is learning more each day of huge strides made in another “long walk to freedom,” this time in Burma, aka Myanmar. Aung San Suu Kyi, the leader of this lengthy and surely ongoing struggle, links arms with King, Mandela, Gandhi and others who used nonviolent means to achieve many of their goals. Nonviolence wins in the long haul. I first learned of her in 1998 when I was in the audience for a gathering of Nobel Peace Prize Winners at the University of Virginia. Why was she under house arrest?
Read MoreI don’t want to forget yet another high school lesson. Whether our childhood next door neighbors, teachers, colleagues from the early days, tennis or dance partners, old friendship deserves our attention. It supplies uncommon satisfaction. Old friendship welcomes like a favorite easy chair, asking little and giving so much.
Read MoreThe US Open, last of the tennis Grand Slam events of the year, always marks my summer’s end and provides an opportunity to connect with tennis-playing and loving friends and family. Texting commentaries with my college roommate take us timelessly back to our old dorm as we watch this same tournament together from afar. While this year’s tournament had its dazzling array of one-handed backhands and deft drop shots, what will stay with me are the lessons for wise living captured by the athletes. Here are but a few.
Read MoreTis true that I’m easily awed. Upon reflection it seems that I reserved my amazement for what I thought of as the “natural world”: Hummingbird wings flapping, dolphins gamboling, the Grand Canyon opening, a redwood stretching. Now I experience awe in the very near presence of a part of the natural world that I will never again take for granted. Praise the majesty of the human body.
Read More“It’s a shame you’re missing this beautiful Spring,” not a few friends remarked, witnesses to my broken arm suffered at the beginning of April. Actually, I’ve never, ever been as much a part of this time of re-greening—present to each new color and scent, homebound yet traveling in nature’s unfolding. What I remember best, and hopefully always, was gradually becoming a part of the world of birds. I healed to their tune, absorbed in their ways.
Read MoreI invite you to listen or view our conversation. Being mindful of the swirl of busyness and stopping it…learning to concentrate and listen so that good conversation can happen…talking about key ideas that will serve children (and adults) well as building blocks for good living...expressing appreciation for life’s abundant simple pleasures...growing in gratitude…valuing the give-and-take of genuine communication—just a sampling of our lively, spontaneous dialogue.
Read MoreOne of philosophy’s charms for me is the opportunity to think, as if for the first time, about the meaning of ideas essential to good living. What is good living? What is persistence? What is possibility? What is belonging? What is empathy? This constant reexamination widens our perspective and guards against our falling into the trap of stale assumptions and preconceptions. I can think of no idea that begs for rethinking more than the concept of success. What is it?
Read MoreOn August 28, 1963, Martin Luther King, Jr. delivered his impassioned “I Have a Dream Speech” to over 250,000 civil rights supporters at the Lincoln Memorial, site of the culmination of the historic March on Washington. Two weeks earlier, on August 16, a young girl played in the first integrated tennis match on the public courts of Byrd Park in Richmond, VA. I did not comprehend the meaning or the magnitude of either event at the time. But I do now.
Read MoreMy fourth Philosopher’s Lunch Table of this year was this past Saturday, December 13. I chose to celebrate Stone Soup in my talk—the place embodies every single topic of my book The Philosopher’s Table: The community that comes with breaking bread, persistence and grace, learning through conversation, love, simple pleasures, ecological mindfulness, embracing change and daring, good decision-making…the beat goes on. Stone Soup is a haven. Roam the streets of Paris and lively chatter wafts through the doors of “café-philos,” eateries guaranteeing philosophical discussions over breakfast and/or lunch. Ideas matter. Communication matters. Soulful invigoration fuels like a chocolate croissant. A small town in the Central Virginia Valley has for a bit longer its very own such spot for convivial, comfortable conversation. Saturday I arrived at 11:30 and left with the last dining philosophers at 4:30. I’ve never seen a closing business bustling with cheerful patrons and eager employees.
Read MoreReading the news requires stamina. Some stories leave me speechless, for awhile, stunned by the language used, our priorities, or our comfortable blinders. But the absurdity surrounding Adrian Peterson’s beating of his four-year-old son stands out. Alarms sound.
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“Give me hope, help me cope / with this heavy load,” George Harrison sang and strummed with three of his British friends in 1973. Wrong weighs like a wet blanket on our souls. Performing his song years later, Harrison’s prayer remains ours: “Give Me Love (Give Me Peace on Earth).” Hearts seek light—hands want holding.
twenty-twenty-five / give us love…connect the dots… / our new-fashioned plans