“ ... the feeling of right and wrong is the beginning of wisdom.”

widsom

noun

the quality of having experience, knowledge, and good judgement

After many days of travel, I happened upon this curious scene in the city.

A group of children were building piles of fallen autumn leaves. Each child seemed to preside over 3 or 4 piles, which they were piecing together into miniature forts. One child, who was finishing off a clover leaf formation, suddenly popped up and stood at attention. He carefully circled his creation stepping inside and outside of the rings of leaves, inspecting his craftsmanship. I believe it got his seal of approval.

He walked over to a woman, who I guessed was his mother. She was sitting on a black mesh park bench, not far from me, reading a murder mystery book. While not completely disengaged from the world around her, up until this point, she did seem more concerned with the intrigue ongoing in her book rather than the world around her.

In an instant the child appeared at his mother's knees and asked, “Mommy, it's perfect! Look! I can attack from each ring, but I am safe in the middle. I think we should make our house like my fort, then we'd never see those men again. We would be safe, right?”

“Yes honey. We'd be safe,” she replied in a tone that conveyed genuine care but lacked careful consideration.

The child ran back to his fort, seemingly pleased with the answer he received from his mother. He jumped into the center of his fortress as the other boys were finishing up theirs. He surveyed the creations around him and pointed to the boy closest to him.

“Why don't we combine our fortresses? Then we would be stronger!” he exclaimed to the boy.

The other boy quickly replied, “No way! I spent so much time on my fortress. This fortress is mine. If I join you, you will ruin it or try and make me follow your rules.”

Shortly thereafter a tall man came walking up to the mother. He was carrying two canvas bags that were full of groceries. He exchanged a few words with the woman, then called to the boy, “Jonathan, it's time to go.”

To my surprise, the boy got up, ran out of his fortress, and towards the two adults. I wondered if his failed attempt at a union had ruined the whole idea of playing fortress.

“Did you have fun today at the park?” I heard the man ask.

“It was fun! I like it now that you're with us David. We always get to do new things. Can you stay with us forever?” replied the boy.

The man looked over to the woman, smiling approvingly, and said, “I'll see what I can do, Jonathan.”

♣ ♣ ♣

Days later I asked, “Teacher, I believe I observed basic levels of fear, greed, and hope. What can I learn from this experience?”

My teacher thought for a moment as he always does, sometimes waiting for me to stumble upon the answer for myself. He finally turned to me and said, “Learn from the boy. First, he understands a world of contrast. Second, he is willing to ask questions that bring the contrast into focus. Finally, he strives for harmony and conclusions between those contrasts.”

“ ...the feeling of deference and compliance is the beginning of propriety... ”

deference

noun

humble submission and respect

Original Post

Dear Helpful Advisor,

My office tracks the shipping of food items across the entire midwest for a large food processing company. In a typical year we experience rushes in the months leading up to the major holidays, the 4th of July, Thanksgiving, and Christmas/New Year's.

In recent months layoffs have increased our workload without increased compensation. We have seen an increase in user error, work orders filled, employee retention, and general quality of job satisfaction. Morale is at an all time low. It has reached the point where a large number of staff are thinking of leaving the company before this 4th of July season.

The company has been good to me during my 13 years working here. I do not feel that I am in risk of losing my job, but I do feel that I am at risk of doing the work of 5 people instead of 1. My job is already stressful enough and if this continues I am not sure if I can keep it up. What should I do?

Sincerely,

Concerned Employee

Answer

Concerned Employee,

If you used as much time doing your work instead of writing questions that can only be answered by yourself, we wouldn't be in this mess now would we?

---Automated Work Enforcer---

---VT100 MSG SENT 10:31AM---

“...the feeling of shame and dislike is the beginning of righteousness...”

shame

noun

a painful feeling of pain or humiliation or distress caused by the consciousness of wrong or foolish behavior

It was one of those break through moments when I realized that my son was beginning to understand the world. The sun was setting on Lake Michigan after a day of strolling through the museum campus. We stopped at a street vendor and I bought him a bowl of ice cream. The man next to us was scratching off a lottery ticket and shouted quietly to himself, “Yes! I won! This is totally awesome.”

My son and I went to sit on the cool grass. Scooping into his first bite, he asked, “Dad, why was that man so happy?”

I became the parent and explained, “He must have won a lot of money on his lottery ticket. And that's a good thing for him.”

My son gave me a quizzical look and was clearly working something out in his head. I wasn't sure what he was thinking so hard about. Was he thinking about how much money the man had won? What he would buy with the money? Where the money comes from? He looked back up at me and replied, “But Dad, I bet he has spent more money buying tickets than he won on that one ticket. I don't think that is winning.”

I smiled. This complex thought from a 6 year old boy. Those are the moments I think I will cherish. My happy thought was broken by a woman walking past us. She was practically screaming into her cell phone. She had a little girl with her, no more than 4. The girl was skipping her steps in a fatigued manner that displayed her inability to keep up for much longer.

The girl seemed in awe, unfamiliar to the city. Sitting wide eyed at the rows of twinkling street lights, the sound of the waves hitting the concrete barricade, and the feel of the cool summer air, the young child was learning as only children do, experimentally aware. I saw her head swinging from side to side, taking in the world presented to her. She was remarkably unlike a child in one manner, she was incredibly quiet, only gasping and pointing at each new sight. It was as if what she was being presented with was just too much to take in. I could only wonder what conclusions she would be making.

But with what freedom? Her mother seemed disinterested. Consumed by her cell phone conversation, dragging the girl along by the hand, the mother was directing them both in a rush to uncertainty. The mother threw her bag onto a bench and pushed her child onto the seat, almost automatically scolding, “Sit down and shut the hell up.”

The child was instantly, automatically obedient. She sat down and sunk her head. With that the mother continued on with her conversation as if the little girl wasn't even there.

“The feeling of commiseration is the beginning of humanity...”

Commiserate
verb [ intrans. ]
express or feel sympathy or pity; sympathize

Natural phenomenon build fellowship. The dark nights, freezing winters, arid land, and sweltering heat have brought us together since the beginning.

The rain pounded on pavement, grass, and the idle river today. Stinging and bitter it swept in waves, orchestrating a piece of harsh strings and spotted with crashing symbols. The peaks of the Hancock, Sears Tower, and others were obscured by a thick cloud of rain and fog. There appeared to be were two worlds, the one bursting through and climbing above the rain, and the one submissive, suffering from the rain. People braving the elements were huddled underneath flailing umbrellas, soaked hooded sweatshirts, and damp pieces of newspaper. One would think this a scene colored by our shared plight.

This was not the case. There seemed to be more distance than ever from one another. Shoulders closed off, faces down, and directions static. Were we doomed to live life as separated from one another as the top and bottom halves of any given skyscraper? Has our individualism triumphed over natural phenomenon? If this is so, what have we really won?

Mencius and The Four Beginnings

It was a childhood friend of mine, who served in Desert Storm, who helped me see the world as more than the sum of its parts.

"Being in combat is hard to explain. The best I've come up with is to say it'd be like watching a child falling into a well. You see it happening and something inside of you either freezes or reacts. It puts you in that inexplicable nether world where your actions don't make sense and you don't ask them to."

The rain was falling so hard against the metal support of the 'el' tracks that you feel trapped in a bubble of bass vibrations. The rumbling of the trains, oddly, muted.

You find yourself surrounded by a tall metal fence. Cross hatched pieces of steel wrapped in a thick green plastic sheets covers your view of what is around the bend. It is a maze.

A small child, no more than 3 and heavily wrapped in winter clothes, walks by. Shifting their weight, waddling aimlessly forward. They seem alone. You pause and look around for an explanation, but none can be seen; no parents, siblings, or caretakers. You yell but it is barely audible against the pouring rain. Why don't you stop the girl and ask her if she's ok? Have we grown that individualistic, disconnected? A peek around the construction fence. A stroller, two women huddling under a miniature umbrella. Their faces meet and shift side to side, frantically observing the world around them; panic. They see you, hone in on your face. You lift a finger and point to the child, partially obstructed by the metal fence. Your finger directing them to relief, your brain seemingly on pause, but your finger reacting in a way you cannot explain.

The two women see the child, their shoulders drop, a powerful exhale, and the tension in their bodies relax.

Then clarity of the world around you returns. The drone of rain pounding on metal, the wind of trains moving above you, the destination you were walking to. All return from that brief moment of something inexplicably and unsatisfactorily labeled, other.