A motto that I keep in mind as part of my personal canon of inspiration is the comment that Thurgood Marshall made at an interview late in his life. When asked to comment on his career he said, "I did the best I could with what I had." As the first African American Supreme Court Justice, I'd say he did every bit of what he could, overcoming great odds and constant resistance to his self-claiming and service to this country.
What I like about this motto is that it can apply to anyone. What makes a life noble is doing the best one can. Now, surely Justice Marshall had some opportunities along the way and was equipped with talents of discernment and persuasion, but the essential of what he "had" was the gift of life within. What he "had" was a signature, a voice, a response to the life he was given. And he followed that voice, that being to its fullness. Was he perfect? No. Likeable? Not by everyone. He simply followed through on the convictions that unfolded in his life, finding the teachers, the opportunities, the experiences that would help him shape the life he led.
I don't know the personality of Thurgood Marshall, nor a lot about his life, but I do know that his simple statement, seemingly ironic and modest, was yet a powerful bit of life advice. Do the best you can with what you have. Don't milk regrets or resentments, don't proclaim superiority or victory, just meet the day fully and your life will manifest the gesture of creation that happens to be you.
Another guide that comes to mind is Arthur Ashe. While dying of AIDS from a blood transfusion, he commented that people often say "why me?" when misfortune befalls them and rarely say "why me?" when fortune is upon them. Again, a simple guiding message, that reminds us of our own grandiosity, our own tendency to compare ourselves to others and think somehow we should be treated differently, that life, somehow, should have us in more favor than another. We can easily then find a multitude of excuses and barricades that we suppose prevents us from getting what we want or being who we want to be (because of our "bad break" or unwarranted misfortune).
I think of Eleanor Roosevelt who had a lot of advice for people and gave us the gift of gems like these: "you must do the thing you think you cannot" and "learn from the mistakes of others. You cannot live long enough to make them all yourself...."
In every life, on every day, there are guideposts to how we might live our lives. They appear in our experiences and within our conversations. They are broadcasted in art and political discourse. They are apparent in nature and scientific discoveries. They are offered in teaching and prayer.
The signals may be confusing, or hard to discern. And who knows which advice to take and which to let go? With so many opinions, choices and causes, where does the good life come from?
What the quips of wisdom I have shared all have in common is a sense of the common life. The guidance from that wisdom comes down to this: be who you are, not because someone else tells you and not to gain a prize or fame, but to express the inner truth within which will find its own way to manifest.
There is another thing in common with these bits of wisdom. We live our lives not only for ourselves, but in and amongst others: to be a part of a shared endeavor of being that can be lived well or not. It's your choice, no matter what befalls you. To live merely for ourselves, we chase conquests and justifications for the life we think we earn or deserve. To join into the enterprise of being with others, we realize that each day is a gift and not a reward and that the life we want to have must first be lived by us. How each of us lives influences how all of us live.
You are a guide to others whether you like it or not. Are you a cautionary tale ("don't live like that") or an inspiration? Are you a warning ("stay away from that") or an encouragement? Are you a companion or a drain of energy? Are you open or shut down? No matter what life you are living, you are contributing to the greater whole. And that larger life is what reflects back to you.
"Be," Gandhi affirms, "what you want the world to become."
I don't know about you, but when national elections come along, I find myself more keyed into the health of the world and our possibilities of enterprise of being with one another. I become baffled at ways of thinking and the behavior of large groups of people that seem powerfully off the mark and dangerous to our advancement as a species, and nowhere near the goal of world community with justice, equity and peace. I feel within myself jealousy and anger, resentment and competitiveness. I find myself wanting people to fail and slip up. I greedily listen for the news I want to hear and shout at the radio when an opinion threatens what I think is my survival. And I become morose and despairing when it looks like I might not get my way.
Now. How constructive is that? Is that what I want the world to be? Hard edged, self righteous, suspicious, angry, contemptuous, jealous, greedy, combative, and self-pitying? No. Is it important to have passion? Sure.
Do I need to be familiar with my shadow impulses? Absolutely. In myself and others. If grounded, we can dispel the energies that harm. Do I need to let off steam in trusted situations? Very much so. But if I carry that way of being into my ways and walking, I will be caught up in the negativity and will have helped the logic of our shadow instincts to shape the ways of the world.
That's how much power each of us has—even though we rarely embrace that truth—we have the power to shape the nature of our lives together. And when we are willing to fully see ourselves, then we can clearly see the ways of another.
And what is fascinating about this journey of life together, about this mystery of being in relation, is that when we are authentically ourselves—when we come to an understanding of our power to witness to life—then we have become guides to the wisdom within all peoples.
There are countless examples of this kind of living—the kind that gives inspiration to others or a sense of the essentials that can ground us into a good life. I'd like to lift up two examples that have relevance around this time. One, is a journey of two women who worked through the loss of their husbands to the terrorist attacks on September 11th, 2001, and the other is a gift from a professor who, knowing he would die, gave his last lecture a year ago on September 18th, 2007.
Patricia Quigley and Susan Retik were both widowed with children and pregnant on September 11, 2001. They lived in adjoining towns in Massachusetts and were told by several friends that they may want to meet and support one another in a grief that only they could know. It took some time before they each found the courage to face another that had suffered such loss. The connection was instant and the friendship grew quickly. The power of the shared experience and of the financial and emotional help that Susan and Patricia received soon filled their lives with a sense of purpose, a sense that what they had gone through had brought them to a deeper understanding, a new way of looking at things. They realized, as they saw the news of attacks on Afghanistan, that there would be more widows, more families torn apart, within the ripple effect from the terrorist attack on American soil. They began to feel a kind of kinship with the widows of Afghanistan, feeling, deep within, that more destruction and loss was not a way to heal the brokenness, and that, in fact, the logic of war was pulling people more and more apart.
It was then that they decided to create a foundation, "Beyond the 11th"1, that would seek to manifest the kinship they felt with the Afghan widows and, in turn, create the kind of ground work that might ripple effect to better relations—to eventual peace as more and more connections were made, bringing to awareness the interdependent web of humanity.
They discovered situations and day to day living far more dire than their own and realized, in their work of advocacy, that shared strength and mutual hope for a better future creates the healing toward a better way of being in the world.
In Afghanistan, widows do not get to keep the assets or land of their dead husbands. All assets go back to the husband's family who may or may not choose to help the widow. On most occasions, if the widow stays with her in-laws, the children are not allowed to accompany her, so many widows choose to take care of the children themselves, even though the unemployment rate is dismal.
Patricia Quigley and Susan Retik, coming to grips with the enormity of their hopes for their sister widows, created the foundation to help with long-term advocacy, a little at a time. The material and emotional support of this foundation continues to ripple out to this day. Patti Quigley, who moved on to other forms of advocacy for the widows, described this process of expanding consciousness and healing wounds as "post traumatic growth."
These two brave women are guides to a more just and compassionate world because they met their lives deeply in the thick of things and found a way to manifest what they knew was not merely their own pain but something shared by millions. They turned their anger, resentment, fear, self pity and shock into action for better lives for all peoples.
And in their authenticity they demonstrated much of Telushkin's ten commandments of character: (from the reading)2
Nearly a year ago, on September 18th, 2007, another such list to guide our ways began to weave itself into the general population. Randy Pausch, professor of Computer Science at Carnegie Mellon University, gave his "last lecture" to a packed lecture hall, when it was clear that he had merely months to live due to pancreatic cancer. This lecture was filmed and put on You Tube. It spread like wild fire because of its poignant, brave, inspiring wisdom. This You Tube entrance, alone, has been visited by nearly 7 million viewers. The lecture is now available in book form. Randy Pausch died in August (2008).
Professor Pausch's lecture was filled with humor, common sense acceptance, challenges to the audience and a dismissal of any maudlin tendencies. "To those who might expect me to be sad, angry or resentful," I paraphrase, "I'm sorry to disappoint you." Then for one hour and a quarter, Randy walked through highlights in his life to help us see how wisdom can be gathered if one lives with full attention, gratitude and steady curiosity. And by the way, Randy was a Unitarian Universalist.
Here are some of the pearls of wisdom he offered, not just to the folk listening, but in his mind as a gift to his children.3
When considering all that is going on in the world, it is easy to feel overwhelmed—easy to assume that one life cannot make a difference. We witness manipulation, ignorance, deceit, fear and power mongering on massive scales and wonder whether, in fact, we are, as a species, beyond redemption. What has happened to us? Why can't we see the blessed gesture of creation of which we are a part?
Change the angle of your view, just a hair, and you will see the possibility of healing. You can keep an eye on how we go astray while setting your sights on the beauty within. It is called hope and it can be made manifest.
There is a guiding list inside of you, ever growing, ever refining as you live your life. It is ready for your awareness. There is room in your life for its wisdom.
To paraphrase Sweet Honey 'n' the Rock. You are the person you've been waiting for. Defy the despair and brave the world of your highest ideals. Be that guide.
Thank you for living some of them out here, in this community. Our good senses will strengthen one another.
Blessings be. Amen.
Copyright © 2008 Lisa Ward. All Rights Reserved.