philosophy

When Wisdom Grabbed Me

By in Uncategorized, Culture, Philosophy, Politics, Relationships, Spirituality Tags: , ,

 

When Wisdom grabbed me my life changed. Let me explain.

I was a horrible student as a kid. When I say “horrible,” I mean horrible. My third-grade teacher once called my parents and told them, flat out, “Paul is dumb.” I barely graduated high school. My GPA was around 2.0.

I didn’t become interested in learning until my 20s. I enrolled in a psychology class when I was 22. Not to pursue a degree, but to learn more about psychology, of which I knew nothing. After that, it was a western civilization class. Then music history.

When Wisdom grabbed me my life changed.

Later, via C.S. Lewis I was introduced to some philosophers: Plato and Aristotle, mostly, but later Augustine and Descartes. I started reading them. Man, that was tough! I knew I needed help, like a coach. So in my 20s, I audited philosophy courses at UCI Irvine. Eventually, I got serious, and I ended up with a BA in philosophy from UCLA. I then received a second degree in philosophy and MA from Talbot School of Theology at Biola University.

 

At shot this on my Leica Q2 last week. Royce Hall, UCLA

C.S. Lewis helped me stay determined with his words, “The only people who achieve much are those who want knowledge so badly that they seek it while the conditions are still unfavorable. Favorable conditions never come.”

All this work was done while I had a flourishing career.

Over the years some have asked why I didn’t get more “practical” degrees. More than a few men have said, “You could have done an MBA.”

Wasn’t interested.

Philosophy doesn’t teach you what to think – facts, data, information – it teaches you how to think. Moreover, education should never be a means to an end — it’s an end in itself.

Too many today view education as a task you must “get through,” so you can go get a better job. Parents teach their children this canard, drilling into their young minds the importance of good grades and test scores and extra cirriculars, so the kids go get into a “top university.”

I get it; we want our children to get decent jobs, which, we’re told, leads to better lives. Makes sense. Fact is though, studies show the “American dream” often doesn’t work. Making more money does not always lead to greater fulfillment.

Being stuck in some field that you ultimately hate, having to live for the weekends and vacation – I question it.

Later in life, countless men (women less) wonder why they gave the best years of their lives, decades, to climbing the corporate ladder, the pursuit of wealth and status, “success” — only to find little meaning and sense of purpose.

Treating education and learning as a means to an end — and this sounds strong I realize — is destroying our nation today. Some talk about how we need a spiritual revival. Perhaps we do. But I’m certain we need a revival of thinking, reasoning, and the pursuit of education for the sake of learning, being well-informed and finding our true passions.

We need to be seeking wisdom. When Wisdom grabbed me my life changed.

If you want to learn more on this topic, watch my new video at the link below.

Are you a hack-of-all-trades, too?

By in Uncategorized, Personal, Philosophy Tags: ,

 

Jack-of-all-trades. Hack-of-all-Trades. That me, if you want to know the truth.

Today I will spend time with my Leica. I still barely know how to use it (not enough time learn), how to utilize natural light (not enough time to learn), how to capture the right blend of uniformity amidst variety (not enough time to learn), who to shoot (nobody willing).

For no other reason than nine lives lore, I can find myself wishing to be a cat. Why? How else to pursue the nagging passions?

In trying to cram them into this one, earthly, life, like today I’m  Paul-the-photographer, the result is the quintessential jack of all trades, master of none.

Paul, the hack-of-all-trades.

Fact is, I specialize at exactly nothing, other than the specialty of little bit of this and little bit of that.

Nine lives Paul, no doubt, would be posting today of the limitations of having only nine lives.

If I had to choose today? Most likely:

#1 Photographer: more of humanity than nature, in the Annie Leibovitz realm.

Are you a hack-of-all-trades, too?

#2 Revolutionary: Going all-in like  Jesus (more than anyone else) and MLK and Gandhi and Bob Dylan and Harriet Tubman and Wittgenstein and Saint Francis and Bonhoeffer and Luther and Céaser Chávez.  (Please visit forthechildren.org to sign the pledge and help me on this one.)

#3 Botanist/zoologist: Because Albert Schweitzer.

#4 Philosopher: In the spirit of Aristotle. My BA and MA helped greatly, but only almost scratched the surface of understanding metaphysics, epistemology, logic, aesthetics, ethics.

#5 Geologist: I know almost nothing about how the earth is composed nor how plate tectonics work, and that bugs me.

#6 Gypsy: A full-time observer. And truth-teller, no matter the cost. Just to travel to and from, to lick the globe, minus the encumbrances of money, schedules, social pressures to be “responsible.”

#7 Cook: Not a chef — a farmer who spends as much time attending to the ingredients (soil, sun, water, freshness) as much as the cooking part.

#8 Historian: Not sure which era nor region. Eighty-one lives wouldn’t be enough to satisfy my craving to learn about all those people from all those places during all those times.

#9 Musician: I play bass (decently), guitar (average at best), trumpet and piano (below average at best).

#10 Writer

Are you a hack-of-all-trades, too?

P.S. I forgot art historian, especially into the minds of Van Gogh, Chagall, Picasso… Oh, and a college professor (philosophy), oceanographer, architect, triathlete, yoga instructor, theologian, hermit.

Front Line Workers (and thinkers)

By in Parenting, Philosophy Tags: , , ,

This is my daughter, Bree. She is a student at Columbia Medical School. Because she works in the hospital, she was able to receive a COVID-19 vaccination.
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Growing up, I indoctrinated my children. Often to their chagrin, there were lectures, tutors, and many conversations about philosophy, faith, politics, and science — the stuff that really matters in life.
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But I never tried to never tell them what to think — I taught them HOW to think. I taught them that knowledge isn’t the same as belief. That truth and certainty are, also, very different.
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They learned the difference between a priori and a posteriori, sound versus unsound premises, logical fallacies, and how to spot the ever-so-common false dualism.
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They were to respect those of other faiths, no faiths, other political parties (and I never revealed to them who I voted for or which party I belonged to) — that it was easier to hate your opponent than to take the time to understand his or her point of view.
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Finally, I taught them to trust the guilds of science — empiricism — and beware of the allure of trendy conspiracy theories (which are based on the fallacy of affirming the consequent). That the Center For Disease Control, The National Institutes of Health, the World Health Organization, and The American Medical Association — tens of thousands of the world’s greatest scientists and doctors — develop and administer vaccinations for viruses such as polio, smallpox, measles, rabies. Countless lives, as a result, are saved.
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I’m proud of Bree, and those like her on the front lines who study and trust science and give their lives to keeping us safe.

Compassion Fatigue: Day 31

By in Uncategorized, Foster Children Tags: , , , ,

Compassion fatigue.

One month ago, gripped by the harrowing statistics regarding children in foster care, I wrote this on Day One:

May is National Foster Care Awareness Month. Each day of this month, For The Children, I will say something about “The New Epidemic.”

Why “new?” — because reports of child abuse have dropped. Why have they dropped? — because mandated reporters (teachers, pediatricians, coaches) with their eagle-eyes, aren’t able to see the kids. They can’t see the bruises or the dissociation or the trembling. 

On average, 5 children die every day from child abuse. Because of COVID-19, that average is on the rise. 

Incidents of sexual abuse are also on the rise. For the first time, over half of the visitors to the National Sexual Assault Hotline were minors. Of those who called with concerns related to the COVID-19, 79% said they were living with their perpetrator.

I’m writing today to raise awareness. I will write every day this month.

For them. 

Writing is hard. You probably know what I mean. But writing about this new epidemic wasn’t hard. The words rolled off my fingers. There was a crisis. So I wrote about it on day two and day three. 

But the writing got harder. Because every morning I receive an email from the U.S. Department of Health and Human Services (HHS). And the email lists news stories about child welfare. And I read about how – all across the country, and the world – children were suffering, in unprecedented ways. Sexual abuse and physical abuse — and I could help wonder what it must feel like to be locked in an apartment for months with your abuser. I thought about the children I’ve met. Victims. 

Compassion fatigue.

All you’d see on the news every hour is COVID-19 COVID-19 COVID-19 but noting – zero – on those who live in the shadows. Children. Minor children of neglect, abuse, and abandonment. These ones not suffering from the virus, per se, but from something I believe to be far more dangerous: family-induced childhood trauma.

Writing about the children wasn’t a too much problem on day four or five, which I titled Urgent Versus Urgent.

***

In January, I visited my psychologist for the first time in over a year. I seemed to be dealing with symptoms of depression. Everything in my personal life was flourishing. At RFK, our work was expanding to new states and new countries. 

There was no “reason” for the depression. But something was up. Have you ever felt that way? — you just now something’s wrong even though everything in your life is going really well.

My therapist introduced me to the term, compassion fatigue — a disorder known to those who work with ailing populations:

Those who have experienced compassion fatigue describe it as being sucked into a vortex that pulls them slowly downward. They have no idea how to stop the downward spiral, so they do what they’ve done since medical school: They work harder and continue to give to others until they’re completely tapped out.

I now had a name for my new pyschological state of affairs. Always a good first step. I soon went to the literature, working on self-care and awareness. More yoga and prayer and exercise.

I began feeling better.

Then COVID-19 hit the headlines I wrote about maybe being stuck in DC with Coronavirus. After 5 days, quarantined to a hotel room, I returned home. 

Work intensified. We developed new programing. How do we reach these children? Who will help them in this time of crisis?

***

When I interviewed for this role, during one of the many interviews, I was asked, “What do you believe to be your greatest strength with respect to this role?” Without hesitation, I responded, “compassion.”

This is weird to write. I’m just helping it real. I’m most certainly not like Mother Teresa or anything. But I feel the pain of others. Many who know me know this aloof kind of logical socially awkward introvert; that’s just my exterior. It’s my personality. Inside of that exterior — I can be kind of a mess when I see people suffering. Literally — somewhere in my chest, I feel it. Sometimes I have to gasp for air. Especially when the pain is the pain of a child. I don’t know why. It could be because of what happened when I was a child, but I’m not ready to write about that.

Maybe you feel the pain of others, too.

***

I remained connected to our RFK chapters and to HHS. Our RFK team began working on a national partnership to help the new emergency first responders: social workers. 

I wrote on days six and seven and eight. It was getting harder. 

Day 10, the entirety of my post read, “I can’t write about the pain. Goodnight.”

Compassion fatigue.

Day 11:

I don’t want to read it, anymore. 

The morning reports. About the children. Not your loved and sheltered and guided ones. 

The millions shacked up with torture. Torture. In America. COVID-19 makes them illusive to the press. Who talks about them. No mandated reporters to help. 

I feel for the homeless; I fear more for children of rampant neglect, abuse, abandonment, far more. 

Children. 

They will end up incarcerated unless we act. 

Unless we act. 

We can act.

I didn’t write again until May 17, day 17. Then day 19. Then day 24.

Today is the 31st. Last day of National Foster Care Awareness Month.

Last post for the month.

I will keep speaking and writing because the children are still at home and there will be a flood of new abuse reports in the upcoming months.

But I will probably take a break.

Because compassion fatigue.

I Surrender: Day 19

By in Uncategorized, Foster Children, Philosophy, Politics, Religion, Spirituality Tags: , , , ,

Surrender. You can only do so much. 

Sometimes, you’ve gotta let go.

Some things you can change. Some things you can’t.

You can pray. 

You can act.

You can raise awareness.

But sometimes, surrender. Because you can only do so much.

The world is full of suffering. Insidious kinds of suffering. I wrote about suffering here.

Atheists use suffering as an argument against the existence of God.

Their logic goes like this:

  1. If God exists, he must be good
  2. If he is good, he would not allow needless suffering (like children being locked up in homes with their abusers)
  3. The world is full of needless suffering
  4. Therefore, God does not exist

Philosophers call this puzzle the Problem of Evil: Technically, The epistemic question posed by evil is whether the world contains undesirable states of affairs that provide the basis for an argument that makes it unreasonable to believe in the existence of God.

Some suffering is from natural evil — disease and disasters.

The other is due to human evil — things people do to others, bringing physical and emotional (or both) pain.

***

(As an aside, I’m reading The Book Thief for the first time.)

Humans can’t do anything to prevent natural evil; we can’t prevent earthquakes or tsunamis or tornadoes. 

Surrender.

But human evil — physical abuse and rape and verbal abuse and greed — can be stopped. 

People have choices. (Though I do hold to a libertarian view of free will, I still, often, find myself afraid that most of our actions are done without decision — we are in autopilot more than we want to believe.)

Even so, human evil is prevalent. (You and I have played our own parts in it.)

***

When my children were young, one of our prayers before bedtime was the Serenity Prayer. We’d pray it after the Our Father, Glory Be, then Anglican prayer of repentance. Anyway, it’s not really Christian, but it’s a good one: God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference.

Acceptance and surrender are the same thing.

 The good news is that human evil can be curbed through education, intervention, legal sanction, attending 12-Step meetings.

But even then, you can only do so much. Evil still happens.

Children are still hurting.

I Surrender.

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