You hate losing.

Mario Kart 64.
Basketball.
Your favorite sports team.
Elections…

Am I wrong?

When you studied all weekend and got a C+ on your sixth grade math test (me), knowing you did your damn best, it really hurts to know you lost. 

When you wrote a letter, anonymously, to the cutest boy in your class (not me! lol) and snuck it in their locker, but they read it out loud and then “free throw’d” it into the trash in front of everyone…
Yeah, that kind of losing really, really is visceral.

When the test comes back, the doctor tells you, and you hang your head, dreading the conversation to come — the paternity test was negative — the loss is stabbing.

Losing hurts.

But, losing is essential for growth.

Just look at Mario Kart — a racing video game.

A shortcut failed you at point A, but worked twice at point B, but you lost. 
Now, next time, you won’t take A, but you might try B and maybe you win.

Losing is a few things:

First — and probably most important — it is a grounding mechanism. Grounding in the Icarus sense of the word: you may’ve flown too near the Sun, and losing invites you to be humbled…to reflect on both yourself and how you behave.

Second — it is a whetstone. Sure, the knife is hurt and loses some part of its form, but is it not made sharper and more effective from the “pain” and loss inflicted? We are not so different.

Losing is an invitation for us to review how we perceive ourselves, as well as how we act in the world around us.

Losing a game of chess may not be too important or make us terribly introspective, but losing an opportunity to advance at work sure will…unless we let our narcissism win, in which case we will call the winner nasty names and insist their looks won or that they slept with a boss or that they didn’t deserve it.

But, don’t allow the dial on your narcissism to be turned up. Have a little pity party, and then step back and review.

Don’t be afraid of losing. It stings, absolutely…

But losing is essential.

Follow for daily philosophical meditations.

These are distillations from my coming book “YouDaimonia: the Ancient Philosophy of Human Flourishing.”

Most of us were, unfortunately, children raised by children.

Our parents weren’t prepared for us. 
They plunked us in front of the TV or books or games or told us to just go play with others — anything to have a moment free of the responsibilities and duties of the burdens of parenthood.

And why not? 
Who can blame them?
Parenting is exhausting work.

But, if we don’t actively raise our children — and aren’t willing to discipline them — we will love them…
…but we may not like them.

The world can be a wicked place. 
If we don’t raise children with morals, an ability to think, and to be of good use then the world will raise them into a creature who follows, works, and consumes, instead of an upright, thinking human. 

So, prepare your children for the world that they may have a spine of granite.

They must be willing to question authority and ideas right down to the marrow of the narratives. 

Don’t bludgeon their “Why?” out of them. 
Don’t allow their education to operate like a factory farm, shaping them into fodder for the Great Machine of the Adult Working World.

Raise them so they are perceptive and able to generate wisdom, independent of you or whomever peddles “intelligence.” 

But raise them so that they go into the world doing this rigorous drilling into ideas in such a soft, velvety manner that others don’t just enjoy them, don’t just like them, but love them and, in fact, would even die for them.

Anyone can question beliefs, narratives, or ideas.
But few can do it in a manner that builds respect.

Endeavor to raise our children into independent thinkers capable of respectful mistrust and dutiful questioning so that the world — and those following creatures — cannot capture them and snuff out their light.

Follow for daily philosophical meditations.

These are distillations from my coming book “YouDaimonia: the Ancient Philosophy of Human Flourishing.”

“Throw roses into the abyss and say: ‘here is my thanks to the monster who didn’t succeed in swallowing me alive.” 

— Friedrich Nietzsche

What did Nietzsche mean with this phrase?

In my interpretation, it isn’t meant to be as “out there” as it initially sounds. We should be thankful for the traumas, nightmares, addictions, horrors, and difficulties of the world that we survive. 

Instead, however, how many among us instead embrace these difficulties?

We take them up, nourish and baby our childhood abuses, our rapes, our racial injustices, our bullying, our alcoholism, our coldly judgmental parents, our dead pets, our awful bosses, our illnesses…

We take them all up and wear them like medals. We wear them like armor. We treat all the things that turn us into victims like crutches upon which we seek alms and hugs and good feelings from the world for.

And in the “You’re so strong,” and “I am here for you,” and the “You will get through this” we find solace.

And we are strong, we do have support, and we will get through our challenges.

But the “monsters who seek to swallow us alive,” those rapes, brutal parents, addictions, hate, and so on can absolutely not be our crutches upon which we live every day.

We cast roses into the abyss as a thank you to those monsters. Monsters we have slain (metaphorically) by continuing to exist in the face of their onslaught.

And we mustn’t simply exist. 
We must thrive.

But we mustn’t simply thrive…

…We must thrive because of those monsters.

All the things that have happened to us, all those violent little horrors that flash in our memories, all the cold moments of unloving…
They have formed us up into the creation walking the Earth, today.

And that form is not made haphazardly of clay and dirt, washing away at the first rain.
No, all those blows have been but a chisel at the marble of our psyche, our mind, our soul.

So, gather your roses for your myriad monsters. Gather them and cast them into the abyss, giving thanks for those horrors.

Then, go forth and conquer.

Follow for daily philosophical meditations.

These are distillations from my coming book “YouDaimonia: the Ancient Philosophy of Human Flourishing.”

Are you right all the time?

How about just 99%?
Maybe 85%?
70%?

Or would you say you’re right 50% of the time?

And now, how often do you know with perfect certainty that you are right?

Probably nearly 0%.
(Unless you score high on narcissism, maybe.)

So, isn’t it nice to live in a world where people of different views can exist?

While you were born white, Lutheran, rural, on a farm, with 7 siblings, had a full family in your life, and never wanted…

Someone who disagrees with what you believe on a topic you are absolutely certain you are right about may’ve been born to a prostitute in South Korea, lived on the street until they were 8, were adopted, had to learn a new language, had siblings of different creeds, and sometimes went without.

You are not right all the time.
You aren’t even sure when you are or aren’t right or wrong.
You can never be certain you are right.

You and your beliefs are artefacts of myriad facets of your history.

Lighten up and be willing to accept that there are alternative views.

Follow for daily philosophical meditations.

These are distillations from my coming book “YouDaimonia: the Ancient Philosophy of Human Flourishing.”

In the penetrating gloom of the witching hours when I wake, many rabbits come to scrounge for the remaining seeds the squirrels and birds leave on the ground.

It isn’t unusual for music to be quietly playing in these hours of darkness. 
Vivaldi.
Meditative drones or the sounds of rain.
Sometimes light piano.

I’m sure the rabbits — with their massive, satellite-dish ears — pick it up in muffled, foggy hues through the stucco walls of the house.

But they will never understand it.

They cannot be touched by it.

The rabbits have no music in their lives with which they can breath in, hold the air, and just absorb the flowing river of undulating auditory landscapes painted by someone like Vivaldi.

They wake in their cold, cramped clay burrows full of filth and fur, climb out into the fearful black nights with eyes wide, living only to feast on what is found or flee from fiends seeking a meal.

Their lives are simple.
They live only for the single day. Find the food, mate, sleep. Then again tomorrow.

We — humans — have opportunity for meaning.

Sometimes it’s God.
Sometimes it’s Vivaldi.
Sometimes it’s the warm hand of our partner entwined with ours.

Follow for daily philosophical meditations.

These are distillations from my coming book “YouDaimonia: the Ancient Philosophy of Human Flourishing.”

Don’t allow the belief you need perfection get in the way of simply making small, incremental progress.

While this statement could easily be the entire meditation, let’s discuss.

So often we allow ourselves to believe “things just have to be perfect” and when they aren’t…
Well, we get upset.

For instance.

I proposed to my fiancée on a cliff-face overlooking the beautiful, Croatian bay in a small village, Baška.

In my head, I imagined this:

The moon and stars would be overhead.
Maybe the sun would be setting, conflagrating the horizon with fiery hues.
We’d be all dolled up from a delicious, perhaps fancy meal somewhere.

Instead, this happened:

Andrea and I had arrived just that day. I was too damn excited and couldn’t wait!
We tiredly walked from our little villa into the village, proper, and found outdoor seats at the seaside. 
They didn’t have anything too fancy, so we ordered a pizza — it was made with local tomatoes for the sauce, cheese from the sheep there, and olives plucked off the mountains. 
Stray cats (like, a lot of stray cats) fished and wove between our legs as they sauntered, begging, table to table.

After the very delicious dinner, we walked a ways further and had an Adriatic classic — gelato.

Finally, my nerves nearly fried, we headed back home. I knew exactly where I wanted to ask — right on the cliffs besides our villa…
…but when we got there, it was dark and overcast. Oh, and just over the other side of the cliff was a large nudist beach and campground, looking up towards us!

In reality, as I dropped to one knee, nothing was “perfect” as it had been in my head all the months planning. 

But I just owned it.

I made up the little speech — even jokingly incorporating the German divers who were diving in the cove where we swam.

And here’s the thing:
Even though it was flagrantly “not as perfect” as I believed I wanted it to be, she still said “YES!” 

Which is the same exact result I would’ve gotten, even if I’d’of asked her hand at a New Jersey bus stop with an overflowing garbage can.

Our odd relationship with planning and perfection sometimes ruins our perception of things that are perfect and beautiful exactly the way they are.

To this day, she and I still very much remember the proposal and enjoy the memory!

So, don’t worry quite so much about deeply, intimately planning every minute detail and striving for perfection…
…you’ll just ruin the experience when things fall short!

Follow for daily philosophical meditations.

These are distillations from my coming book “YouDaimonia: the Ancient Philosophy of Human Flourishing.”

Today during church, I shared a pew with a grandmother there with her grandchildren. 

The boys were wiggly, occasionally loud, and generally, well…kids. 

About halfway through service, a very young girl — perhaps 3 — ran up behind them, apparently wanting to come join them. I heard the grandmother okay the young lady to accompany, and naturally, she did…

By charging over to the side of the pew I was sitting on — all the way opposite them — and then doing the classic “Church/Movie Theatre Sidling” move right in front of me.

“No!”
“Not that way!”

The grandmother and the boys church-scolded her (a sort of whispered hiss of dismay), and then the grandmother apologized to me from across the way.

Although initially surprised, I was laughing. It was just funny and harmless — and I’m certain God laughed with me.

 — — — 

Children really have much to teach us, if we let them.

One of the things I immediately realized from this very insignificant moment is that we as a society often overcorrect ourselves and one another (particularly children) into or out of perfectly harmless behaviors.
All while simultaneously making some of us more prone to offense from certain behaviors of others.

Sure an adult would’ve sidled into the pew from the other side — as would “just make sense” to an adult mind — but if they had needed to cut in front, they would’ve. There was nothing for anyone to apologize for.

Children just do what they think makes sense. 
And so do we as adults, sometimes.

The difference is that sometimes we adults do it and apologize for no really apparent reason. Or justify it. Or explain ourselves to save our pride.

Kids just live (and then, of course, learn!), but we often seem to beat out of them (figuratively) harmlessness.

Maybe today’s meditation isn’t a “lesson” or a deep thought as some sometimes are, but it’s merely an observation.

Kids are the freest forms of humans, and that is a wonderful thing.

Follow for daily philosophical meditations.

These are distillations from my coming book “YouDaimonia: the Ancient Philosophy of Human Flourishing.”

Toothpaste.
Lotion.
LEGO.
Paper in books.
Touchscreens.
Natural gas furnaces.
The postal system.
Remote car starters.
Wool.
Hot water on demand without fail.
Post-Its.
Meat and produce at the supermarket.

Gratitude has no lower or upper bounds.

We don’t need to wait for the birth of our child or a huge promotion to stop and just say, “You know — man I am so grateful for this.”

“I am so grateful for the postal system. It isn’t perfect, and sometimes it’s expensive, but they really are mostly consistent and on time. How convenient it is to send a card and know it will get where it’s going.”

“It’s zero Fahrenheit outside, but I can rely on my furnace to kick on every single time 99.999% of the times it needs to when the thermostat hits 64 in my home. I am so grateful it’s that reliable.”

“How wonderful it is that we can mass produce paper at such an affordable rate, worldwide, and that all of our history and wisdom — ever — can be poured on onto this paper in ink? The paper and books and ink are really something I am grateful for!”

Gratitude should be a lifestyle! 
Life is so, so incredibly good for us — sometimes we miss the forest for the trees, and mistakenly believe gratitude is “only for the big stuff,” when the daily, reliable “small stuff” like electricity on demand with statistically 100% constancy is absolutely worthy of praise.

So, what “little things” are you most grateful for this instant?

Follow for daily philosophical meditations.

These are distillations from my coming book “YouDaimonia: the Ancient Philosophy of Human Flourishing.”

Fear serves a good purpose — especially evolutionarily.

Hear a twig snap in the woods? Ready your weapon and heighten your senses.
The large animal bristling its hair at you? Bearing its teeth? Back off!
Walking home at night and hear footsteps behind you? Get to somewhere public and call a cab.

But now, in many ways, fear is often extremely irrational.

Job interview? Cold sweat, racing pulse, incoherent sentences.
First flight? Paralyzing anxiety, trembling hands, hyperventilation.

Very beautiful woman talking to you? See above.

Isn’t it interesting? 
We’ve adapted and grown so much — intellectually and technologically — but our brains haven’t fully caught up. And maybe that’s okay that our little amygdalas still ring alarm bells when the black car with black windows and out-of-state plates has followed us for over an hour.

But, most times, this fear just obstructs us.

These fears directly crush our joy — or our pathways to joy.

Job interviews, flights to new places, and approaching people we are interested in talking to (beautiful women or otherwise!) are huge opportunities for us. 

When we feel these irrational fears, it helps sometimes to step back, stop, and apply some base logic.

“Once, tens of thousands of years ago, this feeling made sense. It protected me from danger like animals, cliffs, or pain. It was sensible. This job interview is no real threat. Just like when a waitress comes and asks my order, I answer. Like when someone asks what I do, I tell them. They’re only going to ask me questions, and I’m going to just answer them. There won’t really be a wrong answer to anything. They cannot hurt me. I am not going to feel any pain. It’s just a conversation.”

I found I was able to overcome many different challenges — like interviews and flights — with this sort of reasoning.

Another approach I’ve taken is to reframe my bodily reaction.

You aren’t NERVOUS. You are OVEREXCITED. 
Take the excitement and conscientiously focus on just slowing down.

And really, isn’t that true? You feel much the same way when you are incredibly, manically excited about something!
You shake, maybe sweat, laugh inappropriately, and your heart is flying.

“I’m not really nervous about talking to this beautiful Czech woman — I’m giddy. It’s because I’m excited. Let’s just stay very focused on being more slow and deliberate so the initial zing of energy fades out.”

Fear is mostly maladaptive to us in modern times. It often wrecks our enjoyment and opportunities.

What are one of your “modern” fears?

Flying?
Public speaking?
Gas station bathrooms?

Leave a comment!

Follow for daily philosophical meditations.

These are distillations from my coming book “YouDaimonia: the Ancient Philosophy of Human Flourishing.”

“I-I just don’t understand how it could possibly have happened?” I told my client, incredulous.

We had just been rejected on our offer to purchase a home. As a Realtor, this is one of the hardest conversations to have — especially with a bright-eyed youngin’.

“We wrote a nice, clean offer with,” I paused to check my math, “dang — we wrote for 13% more than they asked…and still got beat out. Unbelievable. Our offer was so good, but we still got beaten.”

This challenging conversation just happened the other day, and I am still reeling.

We were great, and still were beaten.

And isn’t that life?

Sometimes we are incredible at something. World-class, perhaps. 

We can be good or even great and still lose.

No matter what our “one major skill” is — whether it’s chess or writing or playing guitar — there’s inevitably someone who is better.

That “better person” isn’t necessarily more skilled, sometimes, either — this is a frustrating element! Imagine being Magnus Carlson, the literal greatest chess player in history, and losing to someone else just because you made a wrong move or weren’t feeling quite well. How infuriating.

When we dominate something like singing or piano or poetry writing and are bested, despite our skill, it feels like a blow to our ego. Our pride and arrogance make us recoil in rage.

Being self aware can help soften the blow — “Lucas, you’re being a little proud, here. You are a great Realtor, but sometimes in some situations, others are better…and that’s just fine.”

At the end of the day, here’s the one thing to remember:

Don’t worry about being the best.
Don’t worry about losing, sometimes. You can’t win ’em all. That’s a fact.
Just worry about being a little better than YOU were yesterday.

That’s all that really matters.
On your deathbed or on your tombstone, there won’t be a grand exclamation of “I can’t believe that absolute hack Johnathan Smith beat me at XYZ on June 26th, 2008.”

What will matter to you is that you’re going out knowing you worked hard to be the best version of yourself you could be.

You can’t win them all.
But you can rest easy knowing you did better, today, than you did yesterday.

Follow for daily philosophical meditations.

These are distillations from my coming book “YouDaimonia: the Ancient Philosophy of Human Flourishing.”

“It is what it is.”
“Such is life.”
“Good vibes only.”
“Money can’t buy happiness.”
“When one door closes, another door opens.”

Yuck.

Platitudes.

And yet, we all see the image form of these — and hundreds of other yawntastic ones — plastered high and low all over our social media feeds, all day, every day.

And we often “like” them.

Why is it that everyone feels the need to share these common, bland, and completely empty platitudes? 

When someone is suffering a break up or divorce, is “You’ll get over it,” or “Such is life” really helpful?

If a recently laid off friend is a little spaced out during a movie, is it useful to remind them “Good vibes only!”?

And what about when your brother is jealous he didn’t get his $2000 annual performance bonus? How beneficial is telling him “Well, money can’t buy happiness!”

We like platitudes because neither the sayer nor the hearer have any responsibility to the phrases.

Telling someone to “Never give up” is worthless.
Instead, be specific — “You continue to go into your job interviews underprepared. Let’s review the resume together and practice an interview or two. You shouldn’t give up.”

Saying “Good vibes only” is empty.
Try “Hey — I know you’re really struggling to watch this movie. You’ve got a lot on your mind. Let’s just head to the store, grab a snack, and then go to your place. I’ll just listen, you gush emotions about what happened, and then tomorrow with a freshly rested head and heart, let’s work out how you can move forward!”

Instead of “Patience is a virtue!”
Maybe — “This grocery line is the perfect opportunity for you and I try practice our breathing techniques, am I wrong? Let’s try a couple of them while we are waiting.”

Where platitudes are 100+ year dead horse carcasses that have been beaten to hell and back, specificity holds great power and responsibility to you and the recipient.

Try a dash of specificity instead of the nutritionless, watery broth that are platitudes!

Follow for daily philosophical meditations.

These are distillations from my coming book “YouDaimonia: the Ancient Philosophy of Human Flourishing.”

Shopping.
Ordering online.
Eating out.
Hot, long showers.
Binge drinking.
Eating cookies.

Life is full of treats. 
Some are tasty, others are social, and then there are a few which are “guilty pleasures.”

The risk with these “treats” is that they become more than a treat, but instead become a “norm.”

We order a new set of shoes every paycheck.
We practically never cook, going out to eat every night.
We sit in the scalding, soothing heat of the shower each day until it goes cool.
Every Friday going drinking with friends becomes an all weekend bender…A single Oreo with milk becomes two. Then 5. Then the whole package. Then it becomes a pack of Oreos every shopping trip.

These moments of “Treat yo’self” become habitual.

You’ve overspent.
Developed an addiction.
Overconsumed calories and gained weight.

When a treat becomes a norm, you no longer get the moment of joy — the hit of dopamine — that it once had.

How do you get the feeling back? Advance to day drinking? Eating cookies all day? Maxing out credit card after credit card?

Treats abused become desensitizing and resource draining.

So — enjoy your treats! Follow good moderation. Be mindful of overconsumption or overstimulation.

Treat Yo’self responsibly. 

Follow for daily philosophical meditations.

These are distillations from my coming book “YouDaimonia: the Ancient Philosophy of Human Flourishing.”

2023 has begun and for many of us, we are struggling much like Sisyphus with our own annual boulders.

We are fresh, renewed, ready and excited. 
The year starts and we explode with force, moving the boulder.

Up.
Up.
Up.

It gets harder and harder, and then eventually we let our old self — our fragments we wish to shed — back into our lives.

Just the small taste of that old and comfortable self is sometimes all it takes to lose grip on that boulder…

It rolls back down and we accept it.

But, don’t accept it.
Don’t allow the shards of the person you are trying to crush and kill to come back like so many zombie limbs, scratching and crawling from the fresh “2022 Me” grave.

Temptation will rear it’s head — especially early on! — begging, taunting, and inviting you “Just a taste…remember how you were?”

Ignore it, slamming the door of your mind in its face. Do it every single day, every single hour.

Sacrifice is taking something in the now and killing it — literally or metaphorically — in order to try for something greater in the future.

You have offered up your old self for sacrifice that it may die off in its myriad and flawed pieces in order that you be reforged, but one day at a time, now.

So avoid the old self.
Tell it as firmly as you can “No — I am not you. You are you. I am me. Me now will be dead, tomorrow, and tomorrow’s me will be ever greater than I!”

Follow for daily philosophical meditations.

These are distillations from my coming book “YouDaimonia: the Ancient Philosophy of Human Flourishing.”

In church today, the pastor spoke about how all things happen “on God’s time.”

Whether you believe or do not, how perfectly true is this?

We struggle and strain every day to make things happen on our time and yet — God, fate, karma, or whatever you may believe in — will insist on things happening exactly how and when they’re intended to.

…And when things don’t go like we want, we lose. Our. Minds.

How do we know that our rescheduled flight we are raging over wouldn’t’ve crashed?
Can we be sure if we would’ve left for work on time and hadn’t been 3 minutes late we wouldn’t’ve been badly injured in an accident?
And when we fell asleep reading in bed — was our body putting us to sleep to prevent an illness we would’ve otherwise had?

We tell our children “no” to many things they want because they simply don’t understand the consequences. Are we so sure God, the Universe, Karma etc aren’t telling us “no” because WE don’t understand?

It can be very hard to stay patient when something has went awry — especially when it’s something we really want. 
But, adjusting our perspective, we can gradually grow more accepting of that which simply is.

Things happen as they happen.
Are they meant to be that way?
Is it God intervening? Or Fate? The Universe?

We may never know, but once something has happened, once we need to alter our path or timeline, all we can do is strive our best to accept it.

Follow for daily philosophical meditations.

These are distillations from my coming book “YouDaimonia: the Ancient Philosophy of Human Flourishing.”

What “New Years Resolutions” have you made for 2023?

To lose 25 pounds?
Get a promotion?
Go to Europe?
Quit caffeine? 

Instead of viewing the ringing in of the new year as a fresh start with which we attack with vigor and enthusiasm, why not each day?

We must not let ourselves be like a freshly lit match. 
We explode with energy at first and then gradually die off to our old forms…

Instead, every night at the end of each day, strive to insist “tomorrow I rise and attack my workout and diet plan fresh!” as if we have forgotten we did so this very day.

Each new day should be viewed as the dawn of a New Day’s Resolution — one single day at a time, marching us slowly on our way to the person we want to become.

One day at a time is all anyone can ever do, and each day is comprised of 24 hours, each hour of 60 little moments.

Just focus on conquering each “little moment,” crushing the goal — eating well, staying off caffeine, or avoiding porn — for that moment.
Then do it again for the next one.

Then at bedtime, look back at the hundreds of “little moments” of success, grin wide, and announce your intentions — your resolution — to do it tomorrow.

You only need succeed this minute.
Then then next. 

Let us change the manner with which we perceive success.

Instead of the greater goal — a year or 10 — just succeed now. And then in the next now!

Happy New Year my friends — let’s make 2023 the best very long string of “nows” we can!

Follow for daily philosophical meditations.

These are distillations from my coming book “YouDaimonia: the Ancient Philosophy of Human Flourishing.”

What would we be like at the end of today if we stopped wasting time on petty, trivial things?

How about at the end of a week of it?
A month?

Or maybe if we reduced our wasting time by even 80% for 5 years?

What would your life be like?

What skills could you have?
Who could you have met?
What would you know?
Would you have far more money?
How fit do you think you could be?

How vastly different could your life be in just a week if you stopped wasting so much time?

You don’t need to be perfectly efficient every minute of every day — and don’t pull the “So you’re saying never relax or take vacation?” card. You know very well that isn’t what is meant.
You don’t need efficiency every moment, but you certainly know you can improve on how much time you spend in utter masturbation. TV, gaming, oversleeping, drinking or taking recreational drugs, or sitting around.

So — if you improved yourself and how you spent your time, even a smidge:

What would you be like in a week? Month? Year? 5 years?

Answer out loud.

Follow for daily philosophical meditations.

These are distillations from my coming book “YouDaimonia: the Ancient Philosophy of Human Flourishing.”

It’s your birthday!

You are out with loved ones for dinner, laughing, carousing, just enjoying life. 
The world is absolutely glowing.

All at once, a giant sombrero is on your head and the Mexican waiters are singing a very, very loud rendition of the infamous “Happy Birthday” song, however in their accents and instead of “Happy Biiiiirthdaaaay, dear your name,” it’s “Happy Biiiiirthdaaaay, Panchita.”

To finish it, one waiter smears whipped cream on your chin before placing the dessert down in front of you…

Your friends laugh…
The neighboring tables laugh…
The waitstaff (of course) laugh…

How do you feel?

 — — — 

This exact thing just happened to me not three hours ago with my parents.

Years ago as a young man, I would’ve felt mortified. Indignant. Appalled!

Embarrassed.

But why?

Because I was a proud fool. 
I may very well still be proud (and a fool!), but as soon as the hat sunk on my head, I just had to laugh.

Life really is so short.
What would I have done? Grumbled? Protested? Demanded everyone to not laugh?

And what good would it’ve done? 

One day, I will die.

In a car wreck.
Stricken with cancer.
At 91 on a deathbed surrounded with loved ones.
Tomorrow morning of an aneurysm. 

But, whenever it is, do you think you or I would lay in that deathbed, holding hands with our spouse and children, sprawling grandkids all around and exclaim, “Dammit! I really wish those waiters wouldn’t’ve humiliated me on my 35th birthday! Everyone laughed at me and I ate a free fried ice cream! They stuck a sombrero on me! A SOMBRERO!”

Of course not!

We will, if anything, look back at these sprinkles and spices over the days of our lives with a smile. They may have embarrassed us a smidge “in the now” but ultimately brought us — and those around us — much joy.

Relax.
Tone down your pride.
Be good humored.

Enjoy the fried ice cream, the absurdly large sombrero, the whipped cream moustache, and the “Panchita” rendition of the song.

Life is short.
So short, in fact, it could end tomorrow.

Enjoy.

Follow for daily philosophical meditations.

These are distillations from my coming book “YouDaimonia: the Ancient Philosophy of Human Flourishing.”

By doing things with haste, what are we missing?

With a 20 mile drive to work, going 55mph means you arrive in ~21 minutes.
Going 70 (on the 55 “suggested” road) you only save 4 minutes.

This isn’t a rant about speeding in a car, either!

When we hurry, hurry, scurry to get places, we end up missing out. 

On a vacation, we are so eager to reach the destination that we put on our mental blinders, ignoring the infinite opportunities to enjoy the world around us.

We ignore the beauty of the components of the world when we hasten through our journeys. 

Instead of rushing through the airport only to sit on your phone for 2 hours preflight, take a slow stroll. Watch the other humans — how they walk. How they’re interacting. How the old man watches his wife with love in his eyes (or perhaps contempt!).

Instead of speeding off to work, rushing to get into our 5'x5' prison of carpeted walls, Dilbert comics, and the hanging stench of angst, drive slower. Enjoy the sunrise. Watch the trees and fenceposts on the side of the highways for falcons and hawks. Count how many joggers you see. Mind the patterns painted on the barns. See how many “rats” scurry by you at 65, 75, 85 or more to get to their self-inflicted prisons.

Instead of just going to the gym and blasting your workout as quick as you can, really slow down the reps. 1 second contracting? Then give it 2 or 3 on the let down. See all the different sorts of people on the health spectrum — the married doctors with their 9-out-of-10 physiques who eat quinoa salad for lunch every day right down to the New Year Guy who lost 5, 10, 50 pounds. Mind the rusted chinks in the plates. How many different forms of “45s” does your gym have?

Haste makes waste, as they say.

We don’t need to be “that guy” or a putz, by any means, but this is an invitation to simply slow down…just a little and to be conscientious of the world around you…Of the people and places and things.

Slow down.

What do you see?
What have you missed?

Follow for daily philosophical meditations.

These are distillations from my coming book “YouDaimonia: the Ancient Philosophy of Human Flourishing.”

Am I the only one who suffers the magnetism, the gravitational pull of the endless news?

The sensational headlines.
The outrage!
The imagery.
Murders, thefts, corruption, death, violence, political demagoguery and mudslinging…

“The world is going straight to hell!”

Is it, really?

Maybe it is… maybe it isn’t.

Much like candy, pizza, pasta, or chocolate, the news keeps us sucked in, addicted.

Yesterday it was a shooting and “Trump said XYZ! The gall!”
Today it’s more coverage of the shooting and dissection of what was said.
Tomorrow it’ll be the details of the shooter and politicians throwing verbal feces about the things said.

It’s an endless circus of hooks woven together to keep you tuning in.

And answer this question, out loud:

After you watch 10, 30, 60+ minutes of Fox or CNN or NBC or whomever, how do you feel?

Anxious?
Angry?
Frustrated?

You almost certainly turn the TV (or YouTube) off with a heavy nose-sigh and racing mind.

That’s the news. This is what it does to us.

We feel compelled to tune in day after day after day in order to “keep abreast” and “informed” on the world.

But, now another few questions to answer out loud:

If you didn’t read the news or watch the news for a full week, would the news be better? Worse? The same? 
If someone asked you in Walmart “You didn’t hear about Shooting X?” would it matter if you hadn’t heard?

Here’s the rub:

The news will “do its thing” whether you watch/read it or NOT.
Staying tuned in may give you a perception of control or “informed-ness,” but in exchange you are yoked with anxiety and negative feelings about the state of things.

Would you willingly choose anxiety?

Of course not.

I invite you to avoid the news for a week or two just to see how you feel.

The world will keep turning.
Shootings will happen.
It will still rain or snow.
Politicians will unequivocally stay corrupt.
War and death and hatred will exist.

Tuning it out, you can redirect your emotions elsewhere confidently knowing these tragedies will “go on without you in the background” just as the processes in your smartphone go on in the background without you ever considering.

So — do you willingly force yourself to “stay up to date” with the latest corruption and horrorshows?
Or, instead, acknowledge they’re happening anyway and enjoy your own, personal life?

Follow for daily philosophical meditations.

These are distillations from my coming book “YouDaimonia: the Ancient Philosophy of Human Flourishing.”

What is worse?

To lose your child to death? At 3, 5, 10, 20, 30?
The years of opportunities once laid bare to them, future fruits, their own children and marriages all robbed?

Or to lose your child to addiction?
Heroin, fentanyl, alcohol, sex, or cocaine…
The years of opportunities being robbed by them themselves and their chemical ball-and-chains around the metaphorical ankles of their mind and souls?

In the first, we ask ourselves, weeping:
“What if? What would’ve been? What if? What could’ve been?”

In the latter, “This is my fault. What have I done? Where did I go wrong? Why would they choose this?”

Both are horrific for a parent to behold or to experience.
Neither offer an opportunity for peace of mind but in different ways. 

Ultimately, this comes down to some of the most crushing philosophical questions:

Is it better to die?
Or be enslaved — particularly by your own hand?

To be robbed of opportunity by death?
Or to give away all opportunity to a bottle, syringe, or pills?

To die and leave everyone with a burden of sorrow?
Or to live, burdening loved ones with the pain of your addiction?

I will not pretend to have answers, but invite you to think and discuss these.

Addiction is a true horror — not just for the addict, but perhaps worse for those who love the addict. 
Seeing a loved one invite in the utter rot and pest of addiction, leaving all skill and gifts to wither on the vine is heartbreaking.

But so, too, is losing a loved one.

Follow for daily philosophical meditations.

These are distillations from my coming book “YouDaimonia: the Ancient Philosophy of Human Flourishing.”