Philosophy
One Second
On Saturday, I made a scheduled site visit for work. It’s a bit of a hike to the office, just over 2.5 hours, but the drive is mostly on big open roads. It was a normal Saturday, almost boring.
I wrapped up my work and swung into a local gas station to fuel up and grab a snack. After getting my gas, I went inside and quickly picked up my food. Checking out, though, was weird. I tried to use the self-checkout, but it was painfully slow between my four items. The fourth one just would not scan. The manager insisted that the system was fine, but I hopped over to a cashier anyway. I had similar trouble with my debit card.
I got into the car and, as I pulled away, I prayed the Traveller’s Prayer. I usually pray it when leaving the house on this trip, and can’t recall a time I prayed on the return trip; I always just figure once per trip is fine.
The drive was busier than usual, cars moving slowly and keeping me from an easy cruise-control drive. Things were really slowing me down. The path is on a wide four-lane divided highway, with long stretches of open road between tiny towns.
There is one town, in particular, where the speed limit drops precipitously as the divided highway gives way to a 5th paved center lane. It’s known for speed traps, so regular drivers know to take it slow. As we neared the end of the city limits, I was eager to accelerate, but cars in the left and right lane were blocking my way.
As I moved into the right lane to pass the driver cruising in the left, my eyes were drawn to a gold Toyota Camry crossing the center lane, entering the left lane, and coming right at me.
When I was in high school, I participated in a teen defensive driving program called Driver’s Edge. Sponsored by insurance companies and professional driving tracks, the one-day course creates a safe and controlled environment where teens can push cars to the limits in extreme driving scenarios, and understand how to react. The instructors are nearly all professional drivers.
In that moment, when I perceived the car coming at me like a YouTube dash cam crash video, I reflexively reacted. I jammed the accelerator and made an evasive swerve away from the oncoming car. The car passed by close enough that I could see the driver’s face, and slammed head-on into the car behind me. Had I reacted one second later, or braked instead of accelerated, it would’ve been me.
I remember three still frames from that moment; when I first noticed the car, the blank look on the driver’s face as he passed by, and the moment of impact behind me as seen through my rearview mirror.
I stopped, along with many other drivers. We did what we could, but the situation was dire for the wrong-way driver. From the entire time I saw his car in motion, there was no reaction. Combined with the blank look on his face, it appeared that he was unaware of what was going on. He wasn’t much better when we reached his car, he was seriously injured, in pain, and fading. He lost consciousness as the paramedics arrived, less than 10 minutes after the collision, and did not recover.
It was comforting, in the days before the contentious election, to see who we really are as a country. All of us who stopped had somewhere to be, and no idea who these people were. But we saw that they were in trouble, and we helped.
Speed wasn’t a factor in this accident, merely the violence of two cars traveling at speed in opposite direction violently colliding. One second and a few feet is what made the difference for me on Saturday afternoon. I’m confident that I would’ve been okay, but it was still terribly sad for the driver to experience a medical episode, lose control of his vehicle, and die with such numerous and traumatic injuries. I was one of the last people he spoke to in those 10 minutes as he faded away, and pray that whomever he was, he went from speaking to me to standing in the presence of God Himself.
One Thousand
To understand life is to understand impermanence. As we grow, experience, and learn new information, we are changed as people. We become ourselves as the sum total of the people we meet, the things we do, and the books we read.
I started this project, Catholic Husband in March of 2013 with the idea of working as a writer. I did become a writer, but by practicing this craft for more than a decade, I actually set myself up perfectly for my current job.
This is my 1,000th blog post. Taken together, this body of work reflects my thoughts and experiences as a husband and a father. As I flip through my old posts, I can recall the emotions and events that inspired the post, like mile markers along this journey.
It was not always easy to stay committed to this project, and there were some breaks here and there. But now, standing here at this milestone, I find myself receiving a gift from my former self. By taking the time to express my thoughts in the medium that I prefer, writing, I can see clearly the experience that is my life, laid out all together.
Catholic Husband is not meant to be a historical record, but rather a living handbook. These thoughts and ideas are the ideal that I aspire to; these are the ways to think and act for those of us who wish to live as the Holy Family lived. I, like Catholic Husband, am a work in progress. But if I persist, if I run the race, I will end much closer to my goal than if I never tried.
Few blogs make it this far, but I’ve only just begun.
Starting Over
In the 5th grade, my teacher, Mr. Gleeves, would start most days by announcing, “Today is the first day of the rest of your lives.” That was over 25 years ago, but now as I sit down to write this, those words are coming to the fore.
Life is considerably more complicated than it was to my 5th grade-self. I have my children to tend to, a job, and all the responsibilities that come with being an adult. It’s a lot to manage, and it means that I take my eye off the ball regularly.
I’m not a robot, and I cannot reasonably expect myself to adhere methodically to my ideal schedule. Yes, if I did everything in strict time blocks, I would have time to get it all done. But life doesn’t work that way.
Many times a day, a week, a month, I have to start over. And while it may be discouraging at first, having to build momentum again starting from zero, I’m still in the fight. I haven’t quit, I haven’t given up, and I’m not staying where I’ve been. That is something to look forward to.
Hints of Fall
The dog days of summer are in the rearview mirror as pumpkin spice season is just around the corner. It was another long, hot summer and I’m so ready for the first blast of cool Canadian air.
The green shoots of spring inspire me every year. Subconsciously, I reorganize, plan, and start thinking strategically again. I find myself getting outside of the day-to-day and making a game plan for the season ahead. The crisp fall air and cozy gray skies have the same effect on me.
As I perceive the first hints of fall, my mind gets back into that higher level thinking. It’s natures way of reminding me of the coming winter, and how quickly my life is progressing. The best time to live my best life was last summer; the next best time is starting today.
What’s Next
Mindfulness gained a foothold in the imaginations of workers and corporations in the last few years, as popular apps brought reliable and lighthearted training to the masses on their phones. Mindfulness asks us to pause and focus only on our existence in a certain moment. It calms the mind and allows us to observe the world as it passes.
So much of our cultural ethos is ladder climbing. Whether socially, financially, or on the job, we’re focused on getting to the next rung. When we finally arrive, there’s another rung for us to reach. On and on we go, lurching from goal to goal as the goalposts keep shifting.
We spend an inordinate amount of time asking, “What’s next?” I have this car, but which one should I get now? I got this promotion, now what job should I do next? I hit this financial goal, now what am I going to work on next? All this time thinking about the future causes us to miss the present.
Having goals is a good and necessary thing; so is being mindful in the present moment. The growth of our children is the perfect reminder that, while every stage of life has its challenges and frustrations, each stage also has its little joys. These joys can only be found when we ask, “What’s now?”
Start Now
Tomorrow is the perfect time to start anything. With the whole day ahead of us, no interruptions, it’ll be just right. I’ll do everything that I’ve been meaning to do for the last six months but haven’t quite gotten around to getting done.
First thing in the morning, tomorrow will be waiting with its pristine beauty, like a fresh driven and completely untouched snow, the exact right jumping off point to live the life I want to live and be the man I would like to be.
But when that doesn’t quite work out because I wake up still myself, and a new tomorrow full to the brim with promise and hope is just over the horizon.
Whatever it is, whomever you wish to be, don’t wait for tomorrow. There are a million tomorrows and only one today.
Trailhead
Three hundred and sixty-five days later, we find ourselves at another trailhead. The new year holds a great deal of symbolism in our world, although in reality it’s just another day. The beauty, though, of the special meaning to which we assign it, is that it’s another reminder of our call to constant renewal.
Pulling out our pen and paper, we sit down to list our resolutions. We turn our thoughts back to the person that we want to become, the life we ought to live. Plans are great things, but life doesn’t move in a linear fashion. Demands on our time, focus, and attention ebb and flow. Major projects, illnesses, and even just a bad night’s sleep knock us little by little off course. Slowly, over time, we deviate further and further from our objective, eventually looking up to see that we’re way off course.
Contending with life as we fight to live as we ought to is at the heart of constant renewal. God doesn’t expect us to radically change ourselves once and then live perfectly forever more. He knows and understands the struggle, the conflict, and that small corrections each day add up to big results over time.
We’re at a new trailhead: January 1, 2024. Win, lose, or draw, what tiny choices do we need to make each day this year to be closer to the person that we ought to be when we all meet back here on January 1st next year?
Some Greater Glory
Hopelessness is poison for the soul. With nothing to look forward to in the future, man starts to unravel. Slowly, we give up on reality, sinking into ourselves, captives to boredom. We lose the will to impose any sort of discipline on ourselves or self-control.
We live in a world that our ancestors could’ve never imagined. Every single fact is accessible to us from a single website, carried on a super computer in our pocket. We have years worth of entertainment options to choose from on our televisions, yet we usually just end up scrolling for hours instead. Food is plentiful and easily summoned to our front doors with a press of a button.
There’s nothing wrong with comfort or advancement, we’ve conquered many of the natural foes that killed our ancestors before they reached the age of 30. But we’ve lost our desire to achieve some greater glory.
Glory in ancient times was often found in battle. Seeking it, men marched to foreign lands, though a large number died of communicable diseases before taking the field. They braved harsh weather, rough terrain, scant food, and the great unknown, all to achieve glory for their name and their family. They endured all trials because they knew they had a purpose.
The softness and laziness of the modern era has sedated us, making us unwilling to pursue any objective or destiny. The path to sainthood is hard, so why start?
We need that higher purpose to call us on, to fulfill our true purpose, and to grasp that glory. We need to wake up.
Just War
As advanced as we all like to think we are, even in this post-modern era, still struggle with the same essential flaws. Though we long for peace, and the social and economic prosperity that it brings, conflict is a central theme in the human story. Wherever there are two or more people, there will be differences of opinion and, thus, conflict.
Modern technology has made war more precise. Laser guided weapons, GPS satellites, and a professionalized military allow for the brunt of the force to be focused on the intended target. Collateral damage, when desired, can largely be avoided.
Although armed conflict should always be a last resort, it’s a lawful tool for the defense of a nation. There are circumstances when, for the defense of innocents and the survival of a nation, war must be prosecuted.
When that point is reached, when ethical and moral justifications are present, there is no point to a restrained or proportional response. Instead, the only true choice is to eliminate the threat through a precise, targeted, and intensive military action.
The terrorist attack on Israel earlier this year, and Russia’s invasion of Ukraine last year, are the two latest examples of a just war. Israel and Ukraine did not start the fight, but they have the unequivocal right and moral justification to end it, with extreme prejudice.
Love the Path
In life, we often have to walk difficult paths to achieve our desired outcomes. Whether at home, at work, spiritually or in our relationships, getting from where we are to the place that we dream about requires an ongoing commitment and thousands of steps. Though it’s easy to be motivated in the beginning, how can we best sustain our good works?
Though the individual steps in our journey may not be desirable or even enjoyable in and of themselves, if we love the path, success is assured. Armed with the knowledge that the path terminates at our objective, we can be confident that by following it, we will reach our desired ends.
Every step of a marathon is not a joy, but crossing the finish line always is.