Tag: Life Lessons

  • The paradox of life

    Life is a paradox. For every amazing thing in the world, there is another just as disturbing.

    The world is filled with unbelievable landscapes and deadly disasters; breathtaking sunsets and depressing winter nights; tree-lined shopping streets and heart-breaking encampments two blocks away (look no further than Berkeley or San Francisco).

    It’s also home to anonymous donors and sleazy scammers; bold artists and Internet trolls; the Dalai Lama and Vladimir Putin.

    Sometimes I can’t help but wonder: is this all the same world?

    One strategy I use to offset the negativity that comes my way is to expose myself to the same amount of beauty.

    Overwhelmed by catastrophes? I put the news away, go out for a walk, and look up to the sky.

    A reckless driver cuts me off on the highway like he’s playing Mario Kart? I look for another driver who gestures to me to go ahead with a smile.

    The guy at the pizza shop gives me an attitude for no apparent reason (and the pizza isn’t even that good)? I patron the noodle shop across the street where the owner beams with pride when he serves homemade broth and extra cilantro.

    The point is not to ignore the negative, but to remind myself to see both sides of the paradox as it is.

    In order to figure out what I need to do next, I must first stay sane. A balanced view of the world helps.

  • Did He Waste 27 Years?

    Before Nelson Mandela helped end apartheid and became the first democratically elected in South Africa, he was sentenced to life imprisonment for his political involvement.

    His bed in prison was a straw mat. The prison guard physically and verbally harassed him. As a prisoner, he was required to do hard labor and break rocks into gravel in a quarry. The prison denied his request for sunglasses, which caused permanent damage to his eyesight.

    At any point during his 27 years in prison, he could conclude he failed. After all, his physical freedom was constrained. His 8-foot-by-7-foot cell could be home for the rest of his life.

    However, he chose a constructive path. He studied for a law degree (even though the warden revoked his study privilege multiple times). He used his legal knowledge to prepare for his trial and supported other prisoners. He wrote long essays that have since inspired many.

    Archbishop Desmond Tutu once insightfully commented on the time Mandela served in prison:

    Many would say, Twenty-seven years, oh, what a waste.

    And I think people are surprised when I say no, the twenty-seven years were necessary.

    They were necessary to remove the dross. The suffering in prison helped him to become more magnanimous, willing to listen to the other side.

    Without the twenty-seven years, I don’t think we would have seen the Nelson Mandela with the compassion, the magnanimity, the capacity to put himself in the shoes of the other.”

    Mandela’s story reveals a different way of thinking about hope. Unlike the “everything will be okay” type of hope we see in movies, this kind of open and participative hope is challenging, for it requires us to:

    • Acknowledge the persisting pain
    • Focus on the available options
    • Grow under unfavorable circumstances
    • Believe our choice has an effect
    • Remain curious about what will happen

    The question for us: Is this difficult kind of hope worth it?

  • Fix The Minor Issues Now

    The other day I knocked over my cup while working from home. Water spilled all over the desk, the wall, and the power strip on the floor.

    It was lunchtime, and my mind was occupied with heating my meal. Annoyed, I grabbed a towel, halfheartedly wiped down the areas that looked wet, and headed to the kitchen for lunch.

    I resumed working in the afternoon and forgot about the whole thing.

    When I returned to the desk the following day, there was a burning smell. My laptop charger was overheating. The router stopped working. The Internet was down. A few cables turned brown and black at the tip.

    Water had entered the power strip–how foolish was I not to wipe everything dry! A problem that could have been resolved in a few minutes became a big headache.

    Fix the minor issues now before they fester. If you wait, they will cost you way more down the road.

  • One Starfish At a Time

    One morning an old man walked along the beach. A big storm had just passed. As far as the eye could see, the shore was littered with starfish.

    From a distance, the man noticed something unusual. A woman picked up a starfish, threw it back into the sea, and repeated with the next one.

    He approached the woman.

    “Why are you throwing starfish into the ocean?” he asked.

    “When the sun gets high, unless I throw them into the water, they will die,” The woman replied.

    The man scanned the many miles of beach.

    “But there must be tens of thousands of starfish. Sending a few into the water can’t possibly make much of a difference,” the man said.

    The young woman knelt, picked up another starfish, and threw it into the ocean. She smiled and said, “It made a difference to that one.”

    We don’t have to be overwhelmed by the many problems of the world. We can start by acting on a small problem in front of us.

  • Lights of the World

    Every day the world presents to us three kinds of lights.

    The first kind is a flashing light that piques our interest. It comes and goes. Think the small pleasures of life: delicious food, new toys, and a relaxing vacation. This light brings us momentary happiness, but it is fleeting and short-lived. Before long, we go searching for more flashing lights.

    The second kind is a dazzling limelight. Think the worldly temptations of money, power, success, status. The allure of control is tempting. We are all drawn by it, and some pursue this light as a life goal. This light is seductive, yet its intensity blinds us. It’s a light that promises the world, but always fades into darkness and leaves us disoriented.

    The third kind of light is a steady, gentle light. Think a beam of light from a lighthouse, or twilight in the sky at dusk. This soft light brings you joy and peace. It’s never too bright, so you must quiet yourself to notice it. You may encounter it when you act kindly to others. Or when you pray. Or when you meditate. The more you pay attention, the brighter the light glows. This light enters into your eyes, and illuminates your body, mind, and soul. Then you realize this light is within you as well.

    Which light do you choose to follow?