Philosophy
The Lessons Learned
Back in January, I had high hopes and expectations for 2020. The future was bright as a new decade dawned. Even just saying 2020 felt hopeful. In March, all of those illusions came crashing down. While the global lockdowns are starting to lift, I’m coming to the realization that things aren’t going back to the old way.
The generation of Americans that endured the Great Depression were forever impacted by that experience. Their life choices and habits were dramatically different that even those of just the generation before. They were scarred by that experience, one that they never forgot.
We’ve all endured a dramatic world event. We’ve spent two months seeking shelter in our homes, hiding from a new pathogen that has upended our way of life. We will be forever shaped by this experience.
The Great Depression was difficult to endure, but the lessons learned didn’t end up being all negative. That generation developed an overarching attitude of personal responsibility in their finances. They used the experience of financial collapse to shape their worldview and how they handled themselves in the future. They were frugal so as to never be at the mercy of that kind of threat again.
Hopefully we’ve learned a lesson or two. Hopefully in quarantine you’ve become acutely aware of the importance of the Sacraments. Mass at home may confer the same spiritual benefits through a Spiritual Communion, but it’s hardly a substitute for the communal prayer that is the liturgy. Hopefully this experience will end our taking the Mass for granted.
Hopefully the time with our families has made us appreciate that a general sense of busyness doesn’t result in quality relationships. Hopefully we’ve taken time to slow down and enjoy our children. Hopefully we’ve taken time to play and enjoy. Hopefully we’ve taken stock of the direction of our lives. Hopefully we’ve used that information to reorient ourselves in the direction that we wish to go.
These past two months will forever shape who we are and how we operate. May it be for the better.
Resisting Structure
Sticking to a routine and a list of daily habits is much easier to do when I have momentum. Building up that momentum over a series of weeks propels me to continued success. Ideally, that routine and those habits are all oriented to completing the things that I want to accomplish. They’re guardrails that keep me heading to my goals. When I fall out of that routine, it’s remarkable just how hard it is to get back into the swing of things.
I have a plan for my ideal week. In that plan, there’s sufficient time budgeted for me to work on everything that I want to work on. There’s time for exercise, prayer, leisure, work, and play. If I stick to the schedule, I will lay my head down at night having completed work in every area of my life that’s important to me.
Lately, I’ve been out of that routine. My sleep schedule has adapted to sleeping in each day, sacrificing a much needed 90 minutes of personal time in the morning. That means I wake up and have to start my day with the kids cold, without the benefit of my typical start-up. Getting off on the wrong foot sends me down the wrong path for my whole day. By the evening, instead of reading and meditating before bed, I watch TV and go to bed late. Of course, with no winding down period, my body isn’t ready for sleep. It takes me forever to fall asleep. Repeat.
The strange thing is, when I’m off my routine, I resist going back on. It feels like my routine is going to restrict or suffocate me, when in reality, it’s going to set me free. One day, after several false starts, something clicks, and I’m back into it.
My resistance to structure is the same as my resistance to God’s plan for my life. His rules, from the outside, feel constricting. In reality, they’re offering me freedom. We heard on Good Shepherd Sunday that God is the walls of the sheepfold. He isn’t keeping us in, He’s keeping us safe from everything that’s trying to attack us. Within the confines of His rules, we’re free to be who we are, without worry.
At all times, especially in uncertain times, structure in my day brings me great relief. I need to keep this in mind on those days that I feel like slacking off.
Dive Into Something
What a difference three months can make! Back in January, I felt completely overwhelmed with all of my ongoing projects. I committed to trimming my obligations in recognition of the little time I have each day to devote to my own activities. Now, eight weeks into self-isolation, I find myself utterly bored.
I’m cautious with how I spent my time and the thoughts that I let fill my head. Drowning in an ocean of newsprint, especially in today’s gloomy news market, is a recipe for disaster. So is idleness.
Idleness dresses itself up in the trappings of rest, but it ends up leaving me feeling empty. When I fritter a day away, I never end up going to bed feeling rested. In a strange way, I feel more exhausted than when I started the day. But when I wake up early and go on my walk, and when I spend my day fully engaged, I go to bed feeling tired in a good way. I feel complete.
I’ve realized that if I structure my day in a particular way, I can have just enough time to work on a few projects. Those times of work provide me with a sense of purpose and accomplishment in my days. So I’m looking back at the things that I’ve cut and am deciding which things I want to dive back into.
Time feels like it’s standing still, but that’s hardly an excuse to waste it doing nothing. Avoid the idleness trap and throw yourself completely into accomplishing something.
Mind Your Diet
We become what we consume. The uncertainty that we all experience now is only intensified when we marinate in the news of the day. To be sure, we all have a part to play. We all need to do what we can to limit the human toll that the current pandemic will take on us. But don’t let it steal your hope.
Emotions are fickle things, and they are easily manipulated. Spend your days intentionally. Check in on the news, don’t bathe in it. Dive instead into your hobbies. Spend quality time rolling around on the ground with your kids. Take your family outside to play and walk and breathe. Read some of those books you’ve always wanted to. Call your friends, write letters, clean off your desk.
All of those things on our lists that we’ve been putting off, we’ve said it’s because we didn’t have enough time. Now we do.
If you sit on the couch all day, scrolling through the news and stress-eating, you’ll succumb to panic and anxiety.
Stay in motion, in action, and plan for the future. Above all else, take inventory of your spiritual health. Make sure you’re placing your trust in God. Expand your prayer life to include things that you haven’t tried in a while. Experiment, communicate, grow in your relationship with God.
There is so much good and hope out in the world. If you can’t find any, look out your window. Spring is in full bloom, the birds are chirping, the flowers are blooming, and the joy of Easter is just six days away.
In the Desert
What a Lent this has been. We’re familiar with the story of Jesus going out into the desert for 40 days, but never before have we had such an acute experience of that kind of isolation. While in the desert, angels ministered to him and Satan tempted him, but he was truly alone. No humans to keep him company.
I will not forget the profound spiritual experience of these last few weeks. I’ve become desensitized to the lull of my modern life. I’ve been unable to walk into a grocery store and have the confidence that I’ll be able to get the supplies that I need. I’ve been unable to ignore the human suffering in my neighborhood and in the world beyond. I’ve been unable to enter into a Church or physically receive the sacraments. I’ve been in the desert.
What’s interesting about the desert is how it clarifies things. It’s easier to discern between wants and needs. It’s easier to discern what things matter most. It’s easier to find time to pray when you have an empty schedule.
Major global events have a way of changing the way that people act, behave, and operate. When things get back to “normal,” they will be different. I hope that this desert spirituality is one of those things that’s different. I hope that the spiritual experience of this time alone redoubles my trust in God. I hope that routine and monotony don’t steal my joy. I hope that I will continue to cultivate my prayer life and seek to do God’s will before my own. I hope that I will bring the desert back into my normal life.
Normalcy
It’s the last week of January, which means just about everyone’s New Years resolutions are forgotten. Gyms have emptied out, restaurants have removed their healthy menu options, and budgets sit on computers never to be touched again. How did the hope of 2020 fade so quickly? For many, it was because their life change was built on the fallacy of normalcy.
I find it incredibly easy to sit down at my desk and write a vision for my ideal week. We’ll spend Monday cleaning, go on an adventure on Tuesday, visit the library and park on Wednesday, and so on. Having a plan is excellent, but what happens when I wake up on Monday morning to two sick kids? Eh, I’ll do my ideal week next Monday when things are perfect again.
That’s the trap.
Normal isn’t perfect. There’s no perfect week, ideal budget, or flawless workout plan. All of the things that we want to do happen within the context of life. Life is messy. Kids will be sick, your boss will put you in a bad mood, you’ll have to take an unexpected trip, you’ll get a bad night’s sleep, there will be an unexpected expense, you and your wife will fight, and someone will total your car while you’re trying to start a new business. Plans are upended almost as soon as they’re set.
Despite the waves of life, plans must be made. If you don’t plan to live a healthier life, or build a more robust interior life, or spend more time playing with your kids, you absolutely won’t do any of those things. You have to plan when you’d like to go for a walk, but be okay rescheduling for a different time during the day. You have to plan to pray, but be okay with changing the format when you grow bored and restless. You have to plan to play with your kids, even if you play in different ways with different groupings at different times.
If you can only build the better version of yourself when things are normal, that better version will always be out of reach. Get the work done, even if it’s imperfect and even if it’s not on schedule.
A Remarkable Year
As I wrote in January about my grand plans for 2019, I laid out a vision for a totally new me. I recognized the malaise that I had fallen into over the past four years, caught up in the responsibilities of parenting. Though left unsaid, I was adrift in the ocean of technology, struggling to maintain focus and presence. I declared that 2019 would be different, not knowing the truth in that bold pronouncement.
In the past fifteen years of my life, none have been as categorically successful as 2019. Goals that I had worked towards for years came to fruition. I read 40 books, wrote and published a book, and lost 43 pounds. I cleared my entire backlog of books that I wanted to read. I’ve had to replace nearly every article of clothing that I own. My wardrobe now matches my style, and I feel good in them.
I never expected to lose the weight and I never expected to clear out my reading backlog. Now that I have tasted the sweetness of victory, I am a changed man.
2019 was remarkable for me in another way. The last decade brought about the smartphone revolution. I entered the decade by graduating college and starting work. I was a technophile, finding and using the best apps, subscribing to digital entertainment platforms, and immersed in the social media networks of the Internet.
Over the past twelve months, I’ve completed my transition to a technoskeptic. I’ve ended my relationship with all of the major social networks, choosing instead to exist digitally on my personal blog. I’ve deleted my Google account and wound down my business with Amazon. I’ve turned my iPhone into a dumb phone, putting it in its place as a communications device with the world’s best pocket camera inside. I rarely watch television.
I’ve become suspicious of the endless promises of technology. I’ve experienced the price that it exacts for convenience. Instead of giving it carte blanche in my life, I rigorously defend my time and attention, only allowing technology to assist me on my terms.
While I did not fully achieve my vision of a more present father to my children, on top of my domestic responsibilities, I made great strides. The changes that I’ve made, the systems that I’ve implemented, and the progress of 2019 set me up for success to do just that in 2020.
Reaching A Goal
I still remember it vividly. I stepped on to the scale one winter morning to see a three digit number that scared me: 207 lbs. I was six months out of college, living on my own, and suddenly in the worst physical condition of my life. How did it come to this? I was still learning how to live, but something needed to change. I bought my first Fitbit, and started on an eight year journey to get my weight back to a healthy range.
I’ve gone through many cycles over these eight years. I’ve gotten married, had kids, moved three times, and lived through all of the changes that one does in nearly a decade of life. Looking at a graph of my weight, I can see those seasons clearly illustrated. The gradual decline on my year of walking every single day and the mountains of weight gain that stress and instability added.
But 2019 was my year. Alison and I, working together, did something that even during my best periods of weight loss I never believed possible. I’ve reached that goal that I set for myself on that winter morning in my bathroom, half the country away.
I’ve reached another point of transition. Now that I’ve reached my goal, how do I maintain it? The natural inclination is to simply revert to old habits. I’ve reached my goal, so now I should reach for a big bowl of ice cream. But that’s a recipe for another mountain.
No matter the goal, whether it’s physical, relational, intellectual, or spiritual, the point of the journey is to learn the lessons needed to maintain success. We go through a trial to learn what works, and what doesn’t. We know what life our current choices give us, but if we change those choices, could we have a life that better reflects our values?
If we reach a goal, only to revert to our old ways, what was the point of the sacrifice? Why do the work, if you’re only going to squander the reward?
Goals give us focus and clarity. They challenge us to become a better version of ourselves. Goals are important, but it is the journey that counts. A master teacher, the journey guides us and challenges us to persist. We struggle, fail, fight, learn, and only then, we win.
The new year is only months away, and you might now be thinking about the changes that you wish to make in your life. Set the goal, understand the result that you wish to achieve, but pay close attention to the journey.
Becoming Technoskeptic
When the iOS App Store first opened its doors, I was one of the first customers. For years, coworkers would query me about the latest and greatest app. They’d come to me with the solution that they were trying to achieve, and I’d help them find the best app for the job. I was a true technophile.
So much has changed over the past eight years. I embraced many of the consumer technologies that have emerged, only now to regret implementing them at all. Privacy is now my biggest concern, and I’ve come to the conclusion that I’m not a technoskeptic.
Technology is not all bad, but it must be tested. Its usefulness evaluated against the drawbacks. The more I use my phone, the less I connect with the world and the people within it. The more free services I use, the more technology companies track and profile me.
I’m retreating from technology, one step at a time. I believe that there are a few legitimate ways in which it can help me. Navigation, food tracking, blogging, and even my three year running habit of daily journaling. But for the many niche applications, where I could easily go analog, I’m going to move in that direction.
I’m tired of the tracking and the ads. I’m tired of the daily pleasures I’m missing while glued to a rectangle. I’m ready to return to a healthier balance in my life.
On Tumblr
Tumblr recently faced an internal crisis. The niche mass-blogging platform had become widely accepting of adult themed blogs. Pornographic images were freely posted and shared, all within the acceptable uses defined by the company. Then came the child pornography.
Most modern websites that allow photo uploads scan images against a database of known child pornography. There’s no disagreement that this type of imagery is not only morally wrong, but a criminal act that must be dealt with harshly. Tumblr had a technical breakdown, and was unable to filter out those images. So they decided to update their Terms of Service to no longer allow pornographic images of any kind.
And people were livid.
I think this shows the intellectual weakness in our society. We rightly rage against sexism and sexual assault, and we are angered when a company makes a move against arguably the largest influencer of sexual assault in the modern era. Pornography is nothing new, but its acceptance in the mainstream is a monumental shift. It influences young men and women, forms their minds and behaviors, and now we live with the result.
I think that Tumblr made a brave and moral decision to make adult imagery less mainstream, less accessible, and less commonplace. It’s right for our children, and its right for the good of the Internet writ large.