It was supposed to be a weekend getaway — fun, carefree, and joyful.

And it was…but with a twist.

Sometimes the moments that bring us the most joy are also the ones that force us to take stock of all that we have made of our lives.

When you get into your late 30s, you sometimes start to realize all the paths you did not take, the possibilities unrealized, and the harshness of that reality can set in hard and fast — particularly after a glimpse into what could have been.

I live in Texas. I came to the United States when I was ten years old, and for a long time I yearned to go back home; back to Greece. But after years of yearning, a sort of acceptance enveloped that longing, replacing it with an intense curiosity about other cultures and ways of living — a love of travel, and a restlessness that eventually landed me in Texas with a Texan husband of Hispanic background, and two kids who are half Greek, a quarter Hispanic, and a whole lot of beautifully confused roots.

Without going too far into it, the weekend was steeped in Greek culture — it was a Greek concert, we partied in Greektown, and Greek food, and danced the Greek dances. It was a glimpse of what I’ve left behind — some of it unwillingly and some of it intentionally. It felt like a recognition of a gap that feels irreplaceable by anything other than the Greek culture that had long ago formed such an essential part of me — but a part of me that I stitched over.

And so, all this got me thinking about circumstances beyond our control, and the decisions we make after them that alter our lives forever.

None of us can choose our family and the life we are born into. In some ways, everything that happens to us is out of our control. But on the other hand, we do have control of how we react (at least a little bit). Sometimes timing is a factor, and in our naive youth we make a decision that alters our future in ways we can’t predict. Other times it’s our defenses that make our decisions for us. Rarely, I think, are we able to step back and make logical and clear decisions based on what we truly want.

So it can often be the case that a fun weekend getaway somehow becomes the catalyst for a spiral into the abyss of what could have been — toward unrealized potentialities and, worst of all, the recognition of permanent consequences, too concrete for alteration.

What do you do with that?

In my estimation, part of the point of life is to live it well. Whether we find it meaningless or not, living a truly good life, to the best of our abilities, seems to be the goal.

And to live a good life means to live a full one, in the sense that it has been explored.

To do that, to live a full life, an examined life, means to take action; to keep yourself grounded and standing when faced with the harsh consequences of a life lived in the most human way possible — full of mistakes, some regrets, and a wonder of what it all means, and why.

In order to live a good life, the questions, despite the discomfort and the melancholy they bring, must be faced. They require courage and an acknowledgement that there are no easy answers, nor will we like the answers we find.

But the alternative is a continuous cycle of glossing over emotions, and a life led by hedonistic desires of comfort and pleasure that are ultimately, at least in the end, meaningless.

So it has to be that the failed potentialities of the past must be faced, and quite possibly lamented, before the next necessary step can be actualized — living in the present and doing what you can at the time that you can do it.

People say it’s never too late, but I’m not sure that’s entirely true. We all have to play the hand we’re dealt — and play it well. But is there room to wonder why it’s this particular hand? Why not another, more successful one? Or maybe one more attuned to a part of you that knew better?

They also say hindsight is 20/20. Such a comedic irony that we can only ever look back, when it’s too late, to see clearly the best choice we didn’t make.

Is there any positive to this feeling of loss, or is it just a complaint worth leaving behind? Nothing is gained from it, but is anything lost?

I suppose there’s no point in dwelling on what can’t be changed. All you can do is acknowledge what mistakes were made, with some grace to the fallibility of being human, and move on.

But in that acknowledgement may come unrealized possibilities for the present. Maybe that’s the only point in wondering all that could have been.

In the searching and the melancholy of things gone wrong, we can potentially find some remnants of what we can still do now to make up for what we did not know then.

So the focus must be on the now, and what can be done with what we have. “Do what you can. With what you have. Where you are.”

I can’t go back in time and go back to Greece. I can’t put myself back into my 20-something year-old’s shoes and whisper to her that the Greek culture matters more than she realized. In the escalating economy of the times, and as a stay at home mom, the reality of life in Texas blending with a life in Greece is impossible.

But we live in an internationally connected world. We’ve never been more capable of reaching across continents than we are now, at least digitally. So in the remnants of the faded desire to preserve Greece in my own life, the realities can be found in the actions I can take to keep it alive now…bring in a little more than I have. Teach my kids the traditions, speak the language more often, travel there more than anywhere else.

It’s not perfect, nor ideal, but it is what is possible.

So part of living the examined life means correcting, to the best of your abilities, the mistakes when you realize you’ve made them.

And it requires work and sacrifice beyond the ordinary work and sacrifice of the life already being lived. You can’t exactly abandon the life already set in motion; it’s just the addition that needs a bit of “stirring” before it can blend in as the norm.

It’s a Herculean task, the climb upward. There isn’t guarantee of reaching the top, nor even anywhere near it, but the alternative is succumbing to a depressive sort of a settling into a life not fully lived.

And all these thoughts from a fun weekend getaway.

Till next time,

Maria ❤

*If you’re looking to continue these kinds of conversations — about books, ideas, and what it means to live well — you’re always welcome to join me in the Books Worth Reading book club. Click here to join.*

Thanks for reading. Subscribe and join me for daily tidbits and weekly reflections on books, philosophy, and living with intention — one page, one day at a time.

Note: The links to the books are affiliate links. If you use them, it helps support my work at no extra cost to you. Thank you!

Arthur Schopenhauer held the view that compassion and altruism are the highest moral virtues — that one ought to orient one’s life toward the suffering of the other.

He states this plainly when he writes, “Compassion is the basis of all morality.” The self, or ego, he saw as the most basic and morally limiting feature of human existence, going so far as to claim that “egoism is colossal; it dwarfs everything else.”

John Locke, on the other hand, emphasized personal freedom of choice and the development of the individual as a rational moral agent — one necessary part of a society grounded in mutual respect, rights, and responsibility.

Though “being your best self” is not Locke’s language, but rather a modern framing, it naturally follows from his emphasis on individual rights, responsibilities, and the use of reason to arrive at moral principles.

Locke grounded this view in natural law, arguing that “the state of nature has a law of nature to govern it, which obliges everyone: and reason… teaches all mankind that no one ought to harm another in his life, health, liberty, or possessions.” It’s a very independent approach.

Schopenhauer looked to Eastern traditional religions like Buddhism and their practice of compassion, claiming that devotion to others should come out of that compassion; an identification of the self as only part of a greater whole. He says “the feeling of compassion rests on the fact that the suffering person is recognized as in essence identical with oneself.”

Locke, by contrast, believed reason and “natural law” (i.e., God) to be the foundations of duty as part of our personal responsibility. For Locke, this responsibility begins with us on the individual level, since “every man has a property in his own person. This nobody has any right to but himself.”

It’s not the whole picture, as you have a responsibility not only to others, but also to yourself to develop your capacities and live well.

So Schopenhauer and Locke, two of the greatest minds in our philosophical history, arrive at two very different standards for what it means to live a good life. They are seemingly incompatible when it comes to thinking through one’s own life and the everyday lives of everyday people.

But what if there were a way to merge the two? What if, for the purpose of living the best life we can live, we need both Locke’s and Schopenhauer’s philosophies to form one whole picture?

We are social animals to our core, so much so that isolation can be damaging not only psychologically, but physically. So it makes sense that, to live a good life, one must pay close attention to the betterment of the “other.”

Schopenhauer’s philosophy, then, makes sense; living with attention to others, for the good of others, regardless of one’s own immediate desires, follows naturally from compassion. Schopenhauer does not frame this as a duty, but rather as something that arises through compassion: through recognizing the suffering of others as, in a real sense, one’s own, which then inspires the “will ”to alleviate it.

But this idea suggests that your own wants and needs become secondary to the suffering of others. It’s not necessarily that you should be miserable — which feels closer to a Kantian view, where moral worth is tied to duty rather than emotion, something Schopenhauer strongly rejected. He focused instead on developing compassion as a way to respond to suffering, beginning with the recognition of suffering itself as something shared.

Locke, on the other hand, discussed the idea that you should develop your own mind and use your reason to arrive at an understanding of what it means to live well. There should be mutual respect for individual rights and responsibilities. Compassion and concern for others would emerge from this individualist framework, but would not necessarily stand at the forefront from the start.

As Locke himself put it, “reason must be our last judge and guide in everything.”

So if living well requires compassion and attention to others, but also the development of our own reason and capacities, what exactly are we meant to do?

It would seem, then, that we can live for ourselves in the Lockean sense, while using our passions and interests in service of the needs of our community and the “others” in our lives. In doing both, we can live the best possible life.

I personally have a strong passion for books, philosophy, and thinking through big ideas. I’m not quite sure what made me this way, nor why I have those specific interests. Whether innate or environmentally driven, you can’t really choose what you are drawn to.

For a long time, I did nothing more with this passion than read the books I wanted and think about life as I see it. I don’t have a strong circle of friends who share these interests, so they mostly stayed with me.

But as I get older, I’ve realized that this was somewhat fruitless.

Sure, I have spent countless hours with a good book, learned a lot about authors and ideas through lectures and analysis, and developed an intellectual understanding of them. I believe this has helped me grow and become a better person.

But it has not had any meaningful influence on anyone else.

And for some reason, this feels like I missed the mark.

Following Locke, I have taken it upon myself to stay informed on matters of society, to use reason to think through what “natural law” might mean, and to live as morally as I can.

As for Schopenhauer, I have not gone as far as he might wish in terms of fully identifying the suffering of others as my own. Nevertheless, I believe I am compassionate and try to help where I can; though I know I could do more.

But as a mother, like all mothers, there is a level of selfless sacrifice I had never experienced before having children. And in that sacrifice, I find a kind of meaning.

This feels somewhat contradictory for me; the most meaningful thing in my life requires stepping away from my intellectual passions. Raising children is one of the hardest and most rewarding things I can do, and I have come to believe that deeply. There is endless doubt, guilt, anxiety, and struggle involved, but it is because it is the work that is helping shape people to become the best they can be for the future.

There is nothing more important, and no love quite like it.

In this sense, parenting has brought me as close as I can imagine to the kind of compassion and service to others that Schopenhauer believed was central to moral life. Though he did not talk about the care of children, specifically, he said “to help everyone as much as one can is the highest moral task.”

In the task of motherhood, there is a unique aspect of helping your own little people as much as humanly possible. It’s a narrow view of Schopenhauer’s ideal, but one where I think you can most distinctly feel it. I doubt it possible to feel this way for every single person you come across, but it the ideal worth striving toward, at least in his view.

But it can leave behind the interests and passions that come so naturally to us. These passions, if not explored, continue to show up in our lives in unrelenting ways, nudging us to pay attention. And if we don’t pay attention, and we step away to fulfill another calling, does that not make us unhappy? And in some real way, unfulfilled?

This left me wondering; if my personal passions have little to do with what feels like my most important work, how does one decide what to devote a life to?

Books and philosophy have made me a better person, but that alone does not necessarily make the world better. One could argue that if everyone read good books and seriously thought through ideas, the world would improve.

Locke said “Education begins the gentleman, but reading, good company, and reflection must finish him;” and “The improvement of understanding is for two ends: first, our own increase of knowledge; secondly, the better conduct of life.” So, the hope of the Lockean thought is that books and philosophy would make good men, and a good society would then be more likely.

But just as Schopenhauer’s compassion for all is an difficult to realize, this one follows suit.

Devoting your life to others, like devoting my life to my children, may help them become the best they can be. But a life lived entirely for others still risks leaving the self out of the picture. Is happiness not part of the equation? Or is happiness unnecessary for living in the most moral world possible? After all, our own individual self is part of the “other” to someone else.

And no matter how much we devote ourselves to others, what is the point of reducing suffering if we are never allowed to immerse ourselves, even briefly, in the passions and projects that speak most deeply to us?

Maybe it’s a cycle. But it seems to me that the answer lies in merging the two.

Perhaps the best thing we can do is honor what we are drawn to and find a way to allow that to serve the others around you.

For me, that means sharing books and philosophical ideas with my children, my family, and with the modern equivalent of community — the online world.

More generally, it means allowing ourselves the individuality necessary to pursue what calls to us, without guilt of what we should be doing instead.

But once that individuality is cultivated, compassion requires that those passions be shared — offered in a way that might help improve the lives or minds of others.

So maybe the real work of a good life is discovering what we are drawn to, pursuing it seriously, and then finding a way to make it available to the alleviation of suffering around us.

In modern terms, taking both Locke’s and Schopenhauer’s ideas into the present, it may be in everyone’s best interest to begin with reason, align oneself with good ideas, work toward meaningful goals — and then share them. Do good for others. Be good for others. Live in a way that helps others grow and flourish.

How do you square the two?

Till next time,
Maria ❤

*If you’re looking to continue these kinds of conversations — about books, ideas, and what it means to live well — you’re always welcome to join me in the Books Worth Reading book club. Click here to join.*

Thanks for reading. Subscribe and join me for daily tidbits and weekly reflections on books, philosophy, and living with intention — one page, one day at a time.

Note: The links to the books are affiliate links. If you use them, it helps support my work at no extra cost to you. Thank you!

Bertrand Russell said that without the passion element, our lives would be boring, but that with it they are dangerous.

There’s something to be said about that in regards to our identities. Should we stick to them with blind loyalty, they can consume our lives, but try to live without one and you quickly find it impossible.

Identity, at its simplest, is how we distinguish ourselves — how we explain who we are to the world, and to ourselves.

But identity is a funny thing, too. It is a psychological tie; a way that we explain ourselves and our existence to the world. But also to ourselves. We connect with this one thing, whatever that one thing is, on a level so deep that, if the identity breaks, it feels like a kind of collapse.

To let go of a certain identity is to go through an intimate break up with a part of yourself you thought you knew. Now that part is pulling away, or ambiguous. It starts to feel like the world doesn’t make much sense anymore.

We would feel too lost in a world too big to navigate without one. Think about trying to extract yourself from the various roles you inhabit — parent, partner, citizen, believer, atheist — who would you be then? Lost, probably.

Given we are wired to make connections, and to rationalize a world into a cohesive story, it is understandable why we would cling to our own identities in a ferocious way.

We don’t just interpret the world through facts — we interpret it through who we think we are.

The awareness that this is our tendency is something to think about more thoroughly.

With the exception of the clinically depressed and others with some mental health disabilities, we are often proud of who we are. We are mothers, fathers, friends, daughters, sons, etc. Those are the main ones. Those are often benign when it comes to the danger in an identity.

But then there are other identities that, without the skepticism of a rational thinker, could easily get the better of each of us.

Think about the progressive social justice activist, or a law-and-order conservative; the soldier, or the systemically-targeted victim.

Those are all identities we form that, without us realizing it and before we can see it, take over our way of thinking and the way we look out into the world.

Those are the identities that create the chaos we so often blame “the enemy” for, though we are all guilty of it.

Whatever lens we see out of, whichever identity we cling to, will change the perception of whatever the situation. It’s the only explanation, as far as I can tell, for looking at an incident collectively and all the different groups within that collective seeing completely different narratives.

The recent shooting of Rene Good illustrates this painfully well.

Rene was shot and killed by an ICE Officer in Minneapolis a couple of weeks ago now. The more unique, and unsettling, fact of its aftermath is the complete opposing viewpoints that came out on either side of the aisle.

We see one video, yet we narrate different stories.

If you take on the identity of a conservative, or an officer, you see this through the lens of a left-wing opponent obstructing a law enforcement operation; you see an officer fearing for his life, and the media castigating him for it. You may see a tragedy that should have been prevented, if only the victim did as she was instructed to do (to get out of the car). You will read some of the media and feel angry at the carelessness people may show to federal agents.

If you take on the identity of a progressive activist though, or even (maybe) an LGBTQ activist, you will see an innocent person losing their life because of an incompetent officer; you’ll see “evil” agents encroaching on people’s rights and may feel a desire to go and protest, to do something about the injustices being committed by this government; you will see a truly preventable tragedy. You will be angry and ready for change.

Either way, you are angry at the other side.

Neither of the two versions tend to be true, at least not fully. They both have sparks of truth in them, but mostly they are colored with the perceptions that we almost innately have, due to our identities.

The problem, then, is not outward circumstances. It is, rather, internal bonds that color the perceptions of those circumstances.

It’s a bigger problem to have. It requires a separation from our beloved identities, on either side. So then the question becomes, on a larger scale, not how we change the system but how we free ourselves from own bonds? How can we step out of what we think we see to truly look at the situation objectively?

It’s not that there is no reform needed, on either side. This isn’t to say that ICE isn’t doing anything wrong, nor that the protesters aren’t agitating already hostile situations.

Both of those things can be true, but neither can be fixed before we fix the bigger issue. The core of the issue. Our own selves and our own perceptions.

I don’t have the answers in how to do this, only my own personal opinion on the diagnosis. But I think that is where to start. As to how to start, the only way I can think of is to keep talking about it, keep writing, keep sharing.

And, while it feels like that is too slow to change anything meaningful, I have recently started reminding myself of two little quotes:

“Little by little, a little becomes a lot” — Tanzanian proverb

and

“Folly is perennial and yet the human race has survived.” — Bertrand Russell, Unpopular Essays.

I leave you with that. Maybe in the coming days, whenever the new story breaks out, you and I can both think of our identities first, and detach them a bit before we look at the story itself. And then, maybe, we will be on a better road forward.

Till next time,

Maria ❤

*If you’re looking to continue these kinds of conversations — about books, ideas, and what it means to live well — you’re always welcome to join me in the Books Worth Reading book club. Click here to join.*

Thanks for reading. Subscribe and join me for daily tidbits and weekly reflections on books, philosophy, and living with intention — one page, one day at a time.

Note: The links to the books are affiliate links. If you use them, it helps support my work at no extra cost to you. Thank you!

This isn’t something new, nor shocking; at this point in American politics, and in American life, both sides have lost the plot.

We seem to have descended into a sort of chaos driven solely by emotions, with reason barely in the picture, if at all.

Erich Neumann, in The Origins and History of Consciousness, talked about this divide within us. We started out of the unconscious, collective “whole” before we could have ever become individuals.

The birth of consciousness began with the human being as part of a whole. Emotions, feelings, and instincts ruled us. It was a slow, painful process to arrive at what we now call higher consciousness — the rational, individuated self, one that can separate reason from emotion.

Neumann argues that we’ve gone a little too far into the side of reason, and need to introduce our now “subconscious,” more emotional side back into our lives.

Neumann wrote this in 1949. I would argue that, today, 77 years later, maybe we swung the pendulum back too far.

It seems that all we see now, in the endless social media scrolls and trolls, are fascism and authoritarianism belted out accusatorily from both ends, no one stepping back to hear the other, and little fires constantly started. It’s an endless cycle of news, and a deeper retrieval into tribal notions and the sense that the truth isn’t singular, but only to be found on one (your own) side.

Maybe that’s a touch dramatic. But let’s look at just two recent events that would highlight this.

On the one hand, we have The DSA, the Democratic Socialists of America, condemning Trump and calling for the return of Maduro to Venezuela.

Democratic Socialists of America, by their own description, “are socialists because [they] share a vision of a humane social order based on popular control of resources and production, economic planning, equitable distribution, feminism, racial equality, and non-oppressive relationships.”

They stand for a humane social order, with a society that is based on feminism, racial equality, and “non-oppressive” relationships. Through their own description, I would venture to think they would like people to live freely and equally, as a whole social team.

Yet, these very same people want Maduro to be released back to his country and continue torturing civilians, forcing others into exile, and openly deny people their freedom in a myriad of ways.

It’s difficult to see how these two positions can be reconciled without abandoning one of them.

If they truly care about the people, and are angry at the administration for not caring, it isn’t apparent that the care extends to the actual citizens. It seems more like the care and ire they hold is towards the system of capitalism and whoever stands for it.

Because if that isn’t the case, why condemn the removal of a dictator widely documented for human rights abuses?

If they did truly care about the people, how is that they can protest a dictator’s demise? How would one explain that to the millions of Venezuelans who have suffered under Maduro?

Where is the moral justice there? You can’t stand up for the downtrodden and not celebrate a dictator being taken down — no matter who took him down.

The logical truth would be that this is a win. The truth they are going with is that it is colonialism.

Then we have another fiasco on the other side. The killing of an innocent mother by ICE, and the administration somehow attempting to defend the agent’s actions.

When lethal force is avoidable, it should not be used.

It’s very hard to deny that people generally know to step out of the way of a moving vehicle. I wouldn’t venture to say one needs much training to know that when a vehicle is slowly approaching you, in what appears to be an attempt to flee, you move. You don’t shoot and kill, you step out of the way.

There is no morally just way to spin that. It was a deplorable way to behave, and it should not be acceptable, and especially not defensible, in a free and just country.

Was the woman attempting to stop or resist them? Maybe.

Does it matter? No.

The logical truth would be this was outright a heinous violation that should be condemned and people should be held accountable. The truth they are going with is a radical left pushed a grown man, a sworn federal law-enforcement officer, to use violent force instead of moving out of the way.

If we still have any chance of finding a way out of this mess, we have to stop listening to either side. Trump is not evil, but he is not good. Rallying to the defense of this ICE agent simply to keep the narrative of the evils of the “radical left” does much more harm than any possible thread of good.

Don’t get me wrong. There is a radical left. But there is clearly a radical right. And both sides are ruining the country that once was a beacon of freedom, justice, and liberty for the world.

And why is this all happening? I would venture to say, it is the retreat into tribalism.

Neumann correlated chaos with our early consciousness —  the parts of us that are emotional and instinctual; tribal. He correlated our rational side with the ego that was able to break free from the constraints of the chaos and create order.

Maybe our nascent (in evolutionary terms) ability to reason is in a growing pain, and quite possibly a regression. Hence the return to the chaos.

But it’s a more advanced chaos, because we have familiarity with order. We are more awake, in a sense, but still unable to rise above our stronger instincts.

Is this something that we can ride out, as a culture? Where exactly do we go from here? I don’t have much of an answer to that other than to state that the only way out is through. And the only way through is to seriously contemplate these issues without the loud voices of either side.

Maybe with some solitude. Maybe with a glass of wine. And certainly with the facts as they are — the facts that cannot be disputed. The ones as sure as 2+2=4.

Maybe the simple way is the only way. Honest, humble, and thorough to finally get to true.

It’s a bit of a sad time, and something I keep contemplating. Maybe I’m wrong in it all. If you do think so, please share. I’m always open to changing my mind.

Till next time,

Maria ❤

*If you’re looking to continue these kinds of conversations — about books, ideas, and what it means to live well — you’re always welcome to join me in the Books Worth Reading book club. Click here to join.*

Thanks for reading. Subscribe and join me for daily tidbits and weekly reflections on books, philosophy, and living with intention — one page, one day at a time.

Note: The links to the books are affiliate links. If you use them, it helps support my work at no extra cost to you. Thank you!

We often think about our life and our intentions for the year in terms of goals and achievements.

But if we are working on living the best life we can live, maybe our framework has been misguided. Maybe the true work is in the deeper layer of life and what it means to live it. At least Epictetus thought so.

Sharon Lebell set about to write The Art of Living — a sort of manual, written with the modern man in mind, on how to live a life that is in a state of flourishing.

This is the kind of book that lets you take your time. It’s not meant to be read straight through, page by page. Rather, it is a collection of short bits of wisdom on the right way to live and how to move through life’s challenges.

It really is an excellent intro to the Discourses of Epictetus. It simplifies his message without skimping on the wisdom.

And I think it is the perfect book to pick up in this new year; a sort of companion that can lead you closer to the type of life that we all seek, as you kick off 2026.

In this book, Lebell translates for Epictetus when he says “the only worthy object of all our efforts is a flourishing life.”

Not a happy one…a flourishing one.

What does it mean to flourish? The Dictionary defines it as:
(of a person, animal, or other living organism) grow or develop in a healthy or vigorous way, especially as the result of a particularly favorable environment.

So it is to develop, in a healthy and vigorous way — with vitality, strength, and energy. It mentions a favorable environment — and that may be the best definition for a life well lived.

They go on, together, to say “the flourishing life, whose foundation is virtuous intention, is something we continually improvise, and in doing so our souls mature.”

It’s a process that never ends. There is no achieving perfection in this course, nor even an end date. There isn’t a a strict deadline tied to one new year.

It is, instead, a constant process of shedding the bad habits and cultivating new ones on the road to a good character and the right life.

And it’s a good reminder as we head on into this new year — our goals and aspirations are only the icing on the cake, so to speak. Our most important work is in the process of becoming the type of person we know we should be, and know that we can be.

Especially around this time of year, we are hit with countless “5 Steps to a Better You” offer. It appears to be that everyone holds the key to the best life, the life we have been looking for. And yet, year after year, we fall into these traps, and the deceptions become evident after only a few months.

There is no key to this. There is no magic.

The answer has always and will always be within us. Living in the moment, consciously, and attending to what is demanded of us, in the best way that we possibly can:

“The flourishing life is not achieved by techniques. You can’t trick yourself into a life well-lived. Neither is it achieved by following five easy steps or some charismatic figure’s dogma. A flourishing life depends on our responding, as best we can, to those things uniquely incumbent on us.”

So here is both an intention and an invitation for this year: live fully in the moment, do what is demanded of you to the best of your ability, with gratitude and fortitude. Work towards being the best that only you can be.

And bring Epictetus along as your guide.

And have a wonderful and Happy New Year.

Till next time,

Maria ❤

*If you’re looking to continue these kinds of conversations — about books, ideas, and what it means to live well — you’re always welcome to join me in the Books Worth Reading book club. Click here to join.*

Thanks for reading. Subscribe and join me for daily tidbits and weekly reflections on books, philosophy, and living with intention — one page, one day at a time.

Note: The links to the books are affiliate links. If you use them, it helps support my work at no extra cost to you. Thank you!

If you don’t learn, you don’t know. And if you don’t know, you don’t grow.

Maybe that is why adults can often feel their lives become so stagnant.

We get to a point in our life where we feel we have settled in and no longer need any more of that pesky “education.” We have gone through school, have careers, kids, etc. There really isn’t time for it anyway.

But then the nagging feeling of monotony lurks in. We ignore it well enough at first, but it continues to linger until it reaches its tipping point — when we get to the point in our life where we are restless and anxious, unable to acknowledge nor be grateful for all the things we already have.

We need to actively engage in life — that is what keeps us young, after all.

It takes some real soul searching, from that point on, to get to the idea of trying something new. But we finally get to it, and set out to do that.

What is that new thing? Where do we begin? And, most importantly, is there a distinction on what is a good thing to learn and what is not?

One may argue that to learn anything new will lead to growth. And in a basic sense, that’s true. Literally true for our brains — when we learn something new, we build new neuronal pathways.

But in a more philosophical sense, is there not a hierarchy? There is bound to be one thing more beneficial for your growth, and the growth of the people around you, than another, right?

Sometimes we want to learn something new but feel torn between two interests. Say you’re choosing between learning an instrument and learning to write. Which is “better”? It depends entirely on your purpose.

If your goal is to enrich your life and bring a little joy back into the everyday, music might be the right choice. If your goal is self-awareness and reflection, writing will take you there.

The value of what we learn is inseparable from why we learn it.

If you are reading this, you may find yourself interested in self growth. In that respect, writing (from the previous example) might be the way to go.

The Ultimate “Good” Thing

If we are to go with the motivation of growth and self awareness, then we could make a list of all the hobbies and new ideas we can devote our time to. If we do that, there would inevitably be one that would trump the rest.

I would argue that this “one” above all is knowledge that can be found in books. And to be a little more specific, the oft forgotten or dismissed, philosophy.

Philosophy is (subtly) the most influential of all the studies. It not only influences you as the individual, integrating your cognitive skills with the moral philosophy of how to live a good life, but it influences societies and the way they practice politics and form culture.

Did you know MLK Jr. had his PhD in philosophy?

But What Is It?

Before we go any further, lets figure out what philosophy is. Google defines it as “the study of the fundamental nature of knowledge, reality, and existence, especially when considered as an academic discipline.”

Unfortunately, I think it is this very definition is what has made philosophy such an overlooked aspect of a person’s lived experience. So because of that, let’s stick to philosophy on an individual level.

In its literal translation, it means love of wisdom. That can mean, subjectively, the wisdom to live a good life. And, to that end, philosophy is for everyone.

But living a good life doesn’t happen by accident. It requires thought and deliberation. And when we don’t pay attention, we are bound to make mistakes.

Philosophy, to me, has morphed a bit to fit into the cold, scientific, side of our human nature that we have so embraced.

But we have an emotional, “feeling” side too that we have tended to ignore in our modern society, to our detriment.

Now, you may say that the idea that we’ve ignored emotions is preposterous — all one has to do is find a social media app and looks through the reels to see parents encouraged to lead with emotion, and adults talking about “my truth” and the “harm” done with words.

All that is superficial emotionality that comes out of ideologies gone awry. When I talk about the emotional and “feeling” side of human nature, I mean the deeper part of us — the “soul,” if you will, whether we have one or not, that connects to myths and instincts; the parts of us that know the Truth of life before we can consciously discuss it.

In that space is where philosophy serves its highest value, at least for me. It’s in the interplay of the instinctual, subconscious truths, being thought through and formulated by our logic.

It’s merging the Two Great Sides of humanity — the yin and yang, the feeling with the reason. That’s the power of philosophy.

To study philosophy in that way requires us to read and think about all the big ideas, from all the big thinkers, contend with them, but not ascribe to any specific idea as the Truth, at least at first.

And when we do discern, and we do commit, and the further evidence supports the contrary, we must be able to admit to mistakes and fix them.

It’s easy to read stuff that we can agree with, but it is much more difficult (and more important) to read the stuff that boggles our minds. The ideas and philosophies we don’t understand, and those we don’t agree with. It is in that reading and honest intellectual curiosity that our own growth and strength in analysis will grow.

John Stuart Mill, in his book, On Liberty, said this more eloquently:

“He who knows only his own side of the case knows little of that. His reasons may be good, and no one may have been able to refute them. But if he is equally unable to refute the reasons on the opposite side, if he does not so much as know what they are, he has no ground for preferring either opinion… Nor is it enough that he should hear the opinions of adversaries from his own teachers, presented as they state them, and accompanied by what they offer as refutations. He must be able to hear them from persons who actually believe them…he must know them in their most plausible and persuasive form.”

To circle back to my whole point from the beginning, it is in this line of reasoning that philosophy is the “ultimate good thing” to study.

Hopefully by now, if I haven’t frustrated you with repetition, I’ve convinced you in the value of the study of philosophy.

And to that end, might I humbly suggest a few books and philosophers worth starting with, for their ease and relatively short books:

• John Stuart Mill, On Liberty (an obvious choice, if you’ve been following my work)

• Bertrand Russell, Unpopular Essays (a current read in my book club “Books Worth Reading.” Read it with us here)

• Arthur Herman, The Cave and The Light (not a philosopher himself, but an excellent introduction the fathers of philosophy and their influence)

• Montaigne, Essays, (again, not a philosopher by trade, but very much in spirit, and in my own definition of philosophy. Huge work, but reading just one essay at a time is do-able.)

• Plato, The Apology (very short, intimidating only until you start to read it.)

A Few Notes

Some of this will inevitably feel hard at first, but it doesn’t mean it’s not for you. Philosophy is, after all, for the people.

It helps to buy the book rather than borrow it or read it on an e-reader. Books that are worth reading will inevitably lead you back to re-read them and better understand them.

Books of this nature are books you must contend with; that means to write in them, underline the ideas, write your own notes on them in the margins. Think them through.

It’s my firm belief that books are companions, not showpieces.

It has also helped me, and may help you, to make use of the internet for good — find YouTube videos and other articles talking about the ideas you are reading. Engage in the greater world about these ideas so you can fully hash them out. Philosophy is a living practice; it must be acted upon to count.

That’s it my friends. I hope this inspires you to pick up philosophy as a bit of a hobby.

And if you do, don’t hesitate to share your thoughts with me.

Till next time

Maria ❤

*Read these books and others with me in my book club, Books Worth Reading. Click here to join.*

Thanks for reading. Subscribe and join me for daily tidbits and weekly reflections on books, philosophy, and living with intention — one page, one day at a time.

Note: The links to the books are affiliate links. If you use them, it helps support my work at no extra cost to you. Thank you!

Before we were rational, logical beings, we lived in the space of myths, superstitions, and stories. We functioned primarily as parts of a mystical whole, with the stories, the heroes and the villains, and the parables of how life should be lived, guiding us forward.

As our consciousness grew up, it formed the “higher” part — the logic. Logos, in Greek, is a loaded word that essentially means thought, speech, words. It’s all in one; all encompassing.

The Logos is our most prized possession of consciousness, yet it is the youngest. And because we value it so much, we tend to often forget how much of ourselves is still bound up in myths and stories. We forget why we so quickly connect to made up situations thought up by other people — because it is our first form of communication. It’s how we learned to live. And how we grew up.

So given that our subconscious is much more comfortable and at ease with stories and myths, it makes sense that we are drawn much more to fiction than anything else — dramas and comedies instead of documentaries, plays over lectures, etc. So it is the case for books — more fiction than nonfiction.

But there is a certain subgroup of individuals — the intellectuals — that get too caught up in the reality to leave time or room in their world for stories and myths. The people that tend to think a lot, stay in their heads, and write about, usually the people on this app, like you and me.

I think people like you and me need some reminding, from time to time, of the importance of stories. We are so caught up in the truth, the meaning of life, etc., that to get caught up in a story seems like a sort of waste of time.

But knowledge isn’t only found in reality. Knowledge sometimes escapes cold hard facts. Because at the end of the day, we are not just the cold hard physicality of our bodies and brains.

We have a mind that continues to baffle us….one that seems to cross over the border of what we can see and feel, and merges with the mystical and the ultimate unknown. In order to connect to that part of ourselves, we need stories to function like the bridges they have become.

These bridges, the stories, their characters, and the themes that slowly but surely form our ideas and values, have a way of sharing axiomatic truths about life and the human condition in ways that facts just can’t reach.

Think, for example, about love. We can try to describe in the most sensical of terms what it means — commitment, sacrifice, infatuation, etc. We can talk about how people often act when they love someone — they look out for them, want the best for them, consider them in their decision.

All of the above describe love. But none of it gets to its true essence, the deep connection one can form with another. But books (good books worth reading) describe it effortlessly:

“love isn’t ownership, but a sense that where her body once ended, it begins anew with him, extending her reach, her confidence, and her strength. As with anything so rare and precious, it comes with a new anxiety — the fear of losing him. The fear of that heartbeat ceasing. That would mean the end of her.“ — The Covenant of Water by Abraham Verghese

In a single sentence, Verghese conveys what countless essays (including this one, and many of mine before it) try to say:

“Fiction is the great lie that tells the truth about how the world lives.”

We need stories and myths almost like we need air. They seem, to me, to be a sort of spiritual or psychological foundational necessity. We can’t live without them. Even people that don’t read books, stories are everywhere. We make them up ourselves when we don’t have them around. And, in the solitude of our own minds, the world inside our heads is filled with constant narratives buzzing around us.

Books give us even more stories, and wider perspectives.

And the older books — the classics — are the ones that have survived because they carry axiomatic truths about how to live a good life.

In an age loaded with information, where we get up to countless apps’ notifications, all ready to inform us of a million new bits of information, to the point that we can feel overwhelmed before our first cup of coffee, books and their stories can offer a rare space of solace.

A place to retreat when it is all too much, and the confusion muddies the waters of the realities of life. Stories can be a place to come back to when we need to remember what truly matters, especially when the rest of the world keeps trying to make us forget.

And with that in mind, I encourage you to pick up a classic, or this beautiful modern literary fiction read that is poised to become one. Let yourself get lost in the story for a bit.

I don’t think you’ll regret it. In fact, I think it’ll feel like a breath of fresh air.

Till next time,

Maria ❤

Thanks for reading. Subscribe and join me for daily tidbits and weekly reflections on books, philosophy, and living with intention — one page, one day at a time.

Subscribe now

Note: The links to the books are affiliate links. If you use them, it helps support my work at no extra cost to you. Thank you!

There are times in which what we want, what we think, and what we stand for, is in direct conflict with the prevailing opinion of our times.

It doesn’t quite matter what the subject is, as there will always be dissenting voices, though most times they are not our own. They are the voices that are marginalized, shunned, “cancelled,” etc.

But every once in a while, we find ourselves agreeing with the dissenters. And it is in those moments that we have a choice to make — lead with courage and be true to ourselves and our beliefs, despite the substantial pitfalls and losses, or sink into the anonymity of the group and thereby deny our voice to instead keep us “safe.”

Of the two choices, we often admire the former, but side with the latter. We commend the courage in others because it costs something, but when that cost is ours to bear, we quickly choose safety.

If we are honest with ourselves, it is a cowardly choice we often make. But it is also a quite human, and quite understandable one. There are a million reasons we can surely acknowledge as firmly grounded as to why we would choose to follow the herd. It makes perfect sense.

Yet, it’s not always the case that the right, the moral, thing to do is to go with the safe option, and we all know this — we feel it instinctually, and so much so that we don’t even need to explain it. That is why the excuses, though valid, feel like rationalizations of an error.

History is full of individuals who made that hard choice — not because it was safe, but because it was true. One such example is Paul Bach-y-Rita, a neuroscientist who went against the grain and revealed a secret about the brain that essentially changed the course of neuroscience and how we view our own selves.

Before we get to him, we have to first start with Descartes, who wasn’t just a philosopher but a mathematician and a scientist. He is most famous for having said “I Think, Therefore I Am.” He is heralded as one of the foremost thinkers of Enlightenment and with that statement, and the book it came from, it is said he “opened the door to modern philosophy.”

Descartes was a brilliant philosopher, but he also studied the brain. And many people appealed to his genius in one area (philosophy) and maybe incorrectly applied it to the study neuroscience.

Descartes contributed to the mechanistic view of the brain, which later encouraged scientists like Gall, Broca, Wernicke, to think of brain regions as fixed, machine-like components. They took a brilliant philosopher, and were influenced on his views on the brain, and ran with it. It’s a philosophical fallacy, the appeal to authority.

Descartes thought of the body — including the brain — as a kind of machine. In The Brain That Changes Itself, Norman Doidge discusses how this mechanistic model influenced later scientists, who came to believe that each part of the brain had a fixed, unchangeable function. If one area was damaged, the ability associated with it was thought to be lost forever — an idea eventually formalized as “localization.”

Then, much later, Paul Bach-y-Rita came along.

Almost totally isolated from his colleagues, he dared to reject the idea of localizationism and decided instead to follow the evidence. He started arguing for neuroplasticity — the idea that the brain can adapt and change itself. Even though his paper in the 1960s was backed by evidence, it was rejected six times just because he had the word “plasticity” in the title. That’s the whole of the scientific community choosing safety; choosing the pack.

But Bach-y-Rita didn’t let that stop him. He kept going. He even built a machine that helped blind people “see” through their skin, showing that we don’t really see with our eyes — we see with our brains. Imagine that…seeing with your skin.

And then came Michael Merzenich, who went a step further than Bach-y-Rita and continued to publish what others in his community thought erroneous. Contrary to everyone’s opinion, he reinforced the neuroplasticity hypothesis in his professional papers. His colleagues called him crazy, but he did enough research to realize “that the position of the majority was arrogant and indefensible.”

Merzenich went on to finally change the scientific opinion and admit the mistake it made. He went on to help develop the cochlear implant and numerous other projects and programs that help kids and adults alike to strengthen their brain by exercising it, just like a muscle.

Now imagine these two men subscribed to the status quo instead, and silenced the inner voice that knew better. Had they not the courage to stand out, how long would it have taken someone else to look into the neuroplasticity and all of empowerment over our own minds it entails?

Today, science is getting close to making technologies that will change peoples’ lives even more available to the public . Things like neurostimulation, brain-machine interfaces, sensory substitution, etc., and it’s largely due to these two scientists who decided to stand up against the status quo.

To have the courage to be ridiculed and dismissed, knowing all the while that you are following your own voice, and the facts that lead you to the Truth. We don’t have to be neuroscientists to see the value in that.

Following the herd has its place. It brings safety, community, and a sense of belonging. But it can be dangerous too. It can lead to ignorance and limitations.

At the end of the day, you have to think for yourself. If you’re not thinking for yourself, someone else is doing it for you.

Don’t let someone else do it for you.

Till next time,

Maria

Thanks for reading. Subscribe and join me for daily tidbits and weekly reflections on books, philosophy, and living with intention — one page, one day at a time.

Note: The links to the books are affiliate links. If you use them, it helps support my work at no extra cost to you. Thank you!

There’s a lot of wisdom to be found in people you disagree with, and the best way to see that is to get out of your own way. That’s the lesson I’m continuously learning, and the one I try to pass on here.

Through conversations with a peer whose politics differ from mine, I found the philosopher Richard Rorty and his book, Achieving Our Country.

Rorty is often described as a postmodern, neo-pragmatist thinker — not exactly my lane. I’ve said before that I don’t agree with postmodernism, and I still don’t. But because I respect, and am quite grateful for, the conversation with my peer, I read the book anyway.

And I’m glad I did. It became another example of what I always argue: you don’t have to share someone’s worldview to find common ground.

And with Rorty, I found much clarity with respect to the state of the Leftist side of politics. I found some things I disagree with, but also things that I easily agreed with — it’s the beauty of the complexity of human nature.

So this book is Rorty’s take on the Leftist agenda, and a little bit of what went wrong. It’s a short little book, with three main parts:

1.The need for national pride in order to sustain a country, and help it grow to the best that it can be.
One of the issues with today’s progressive Left is that there is very little American love or pride. It has somehow become status quo to criticize the United States and find fault in everything it stands for, and it’s odd if one sees this within the context of all the nations of the world.

People are proud to be Italian, or Greek, or Mexican, both in their own countries and the ones who’ve immigrated here from their respective countries.

And that cultural identity is praised; it’s very rare that you would hear anyone in the United States criticizing an immigrant’s love of their own country. But as soon as Americans feel the same, they are often, and very quickly, judged to be bigots.

Rorty shows the deficiency of that sentiment, starting off the book by stating “National pride is to countries what self-respect is to individuals; a necessary condition for self-improvement…insufficient national pride makes energetic and effective debate about national policy unlikely.”

He then discusses the pre and post Left, evolving because of the Vietnam War, and goes on to say that “as long as the American Left remains incapable of national pride, our country will have only a cultural Left, not a political one.”

And without a political one, we [the party of the Left] descend to chaos. If we are to read Rorty in hindsight, he seems a bit prophetic.

2. The “Reformist Left” of the pre-Vietnam War and their substantial accomplishments.

This is the Left Rorty wants to get back to — the one he sees as the party that made America progress and helped it succeed. This is the pre-Vietnam War Left. It’s the party of reform whose “successes are a sufficient excuse for [its] many and varied stupidities.”

It’s the one that gave us John Dewey and Martin Luther King; this is the party he credits for the success of the welfare state expansion, union and labor reforms for the working class, the civil rights bill and the GI bill, the investment in civic and public education, as well as the party he sees that inspired hope and progress through its democratic institutions.

All of those achievements make the party worth it. And this is what Rorty wants to get back to.

3. The post-Vietnam War turn to a “Cultural Left” that has deteriorated the left side of the political aisle.

Then came the Vietnam War and transformed it. The injustice of the war angered the Left, and its rage is attributed by Rorty to having “saved us” from the War. He credits the rage to ending the war — all the demonstrations and civil unrest it caused.

He may be right, I’m not quite sure it’s all that simple, but it was definitely part of the times. But by having saved us from “losing our moral identity,” it had to transform itself from a party that “thinks more about laws that need to be passed” to one “[who thinks] about a culture that needs to be changed.”

And that shift to a cultural Left has, in Rorty’s view, abstracted all the problems to the point that they are impossible to affect legislatively. In his view, it ends up that “you have views on practically everything except what needs to be done.”

Not only did it end up a party that can’t truly legislate, but the ideas of injustice and victimization have led the party to “substitute social justice for individual freedom as our country’s principal goal.” Everything ended up being seen through the lens of power and the injustice of a capitalist economy.

In my estimation, it has become an oversimplification that demonizes capitalism and America in general, blaming them for every social inequity that is being put forth. Not only are the two blamed, but they are said to make everything worse.

Rorty doesn’t say all that, but he does say that there is a “semi-conscious anti-Americanism” on the cultural Left that was not there in its “reformist” days. And given the fact that patriotism is essential to the individual’s devotion to make the country a better place, the Left’s ideas have no chance of actually becoming anything more than a pipe dream if loyalty of some sort — pride in being an American — cannot be found.

He ends his short book stating:

“Americans should not take the point of view of a detached cosmopolitan spectator. We should face up to the unpleasant truths about ourselves, but we should not take those truths to be the last word about our chances for happiness, or about the national character. Our national character is still in the making.”

It’s not only a bold statement few leftists can agree on today, but one filled with hope and the possibility of change.

In order to get to a better future, we need a country willing to unify. And in a country divided so deeply, the only hope for reunification is through “self-evaluation” of both sides of the divide — the Left and the Right.

Here, Rorty talks about the issues on the Left. He is largely correct, in my estimation. Since this work was published, I think it has only become worse. The abandonment of reason coupled with the intense focus on inequities and injustices has turned the Left’s perception of reality a bit too wonky. The Right isn’t doing much better, but this is more about the Left.

Rorty was part of that Left. His advice was to check ourselves, see the harsh truths, deal with them, and foster a bit more pride in where we are and the country we live in, if we ever hope to better it.

I can’t say I agree with everything he says, but on this point, I find myself (a very amateur neo-Aristotelian) agreeing with a postmodern neo-pragmatist more than I could have ever imagined.

But that’s the beauty about people and ideas — we are more connected, and have more in common with each other — than we initially think. We just need to open the door of opportunity and stay there in honest curiosity to see it.

Till next time,

Maria ❤

Thanks for reading. Subscribe and join me for daily tidbits and weekly reflections on books, philosophy, and living with intention — one page, one day at a time.

Note: The links to the books are affiliate links. If you use them, it helps support my work at no extra cost to you. Thank you!

Harold and Allan Bloom both lamented the loss of the “Great Books” for the greater society, but in two distinct ways. One was seeing the loss as the great loss of inspiration and personal discovery and growth — the wisdom and beauty to be found within, while the other saw it as the loss of a sort of instruction manual on how to live a good life — morally, but also politically.

They seem to represent the Apollonian and Dionysian spirits that Nietzsche talked about in his The Birth of Tragedy: Out of the Spirit of Music. Apollo represents reason and clarity, restrain and order; whereas Dionysus represents chaos and exaltation, truth and beauty.

Allan Bloom being the Apollonian, Harold Bloom the Dionysian. In the end, the loss of the “Great Books” in greater society is an issue on both sides of the equation, as both are needed to live a good life.

Allan Bloom on Books for Moral Clarity

We are social beings; isolation is our demise. We cannot ignore that we need the group, or a society, to live a good life, and there is where the Apollonian necessity of books comes into play.

We need a sort of guide, an instruction manual so to speak, to help us in coming together and forming a good and civilized society. We need the past in order to help us direct our future. We need it so that we can set the foundation.

That’s not to say we need the past in order to stay there, as those are two very different things. We need to read in order to see and understand the axiomatic “Truths” that have survived throughout all of human history just as much as we need to see the mistakes that were made in order to prevent them yet again.

All this requires Allan Blooms’ analysis of books as education for the formation of the character and intellect that will affect not only our own life but our politics. They are a way to engage with deep thinkers like Plato, Nietzsche, and Heidegger to ask what is justice? What is truth? What is a good life?

Without them, how can we hope to make sense of our brief time on earth or find the answers alone, and only within our own generation? We can’t. We need the wisdom that has been passed down from time immemorial, and that has survived, to help us.

Harold Bloom on Books for Inspiration

On the other hand, we are not our group (and it is of the utmost importance to give ourselves wholly to a group). We are individuals, and should remain so if we are to continue to live in a free country. As much as we need to be part of something greater, so much do we need to develop our own character, our own strengths, and forge our own path in life.

There is a fine balance between a life lived in accordance with our values and the life lived serving others. The two must find a way to marry.

So in comes Harold Blooms’ reason to read the “Great Books.” They should inspire us, and move us forward. It is the Dionysian viewpoint that books point your to the “chaos” side of the world, and the inner reflections of what life is truly mean to be.

It’s not the rational, scientific, pragmatic side of life, but rather the things that make life, with all its strife, worth living. The forces of truth, beauty, and passion. The inspiration you get from moments in nature, or the awe you feel after you read a passage that seems to have been meant for you…the exhilaration of the moment caught up in the music and pleasure of a night.

Both Blooms saw the formation of the self, one steeped in philosophy and one in literature, necessitates education from the “Great Books” for both the analytical and the emotional part of life, respectively.

Though the Blooms came to the idea from two different sides, they are two sides of the same coin. Both are required for a full life. With Harold and Allan Bloom together, we see the importance of books to develop not only moral clarity, but spiritual and imaginative depth.

Allan Bloom blamed relativism for the loss of Truth, and therefore of the loss of right and wrong. Harold Bloom blamed the broader ideologies in general for the loss of reading as essential to understanding of the self. Both were right, and both are needed in their prescription to return to the Greats.

The Connection to Present Day

And why is this all important, anyway? What will reading books do in today’s society where all you see is the nonsense of social media, the election of socialists in a country built on freedom and individuality, and the growing divide of a government unable to talk long enough to keep the basic function of a government open?

Going back to reading the books worth reading won’t change anything right away, so it makes sense for it to seem pointless. But it seems to me that it is the only way for any long term return to values and morals that make us worthy of emulation. The ones that create free and just societies.

We may be in for a rough couple of decades, at the moment. But if we have any hope in a future worthy of our kids, hope being a necessity to keep fighting towards the good, then we should get back to reading the books worth reading.

As a wise Tanzanian Proverb goes, “little by little, a little becomes a lot.”

We shouldn’t doubt the power we have as individuals, despite the grand scheme of all that we are up against. We have the power to change course. To right the wrongs, and to bridge the divides. But we have to start a true education within ourselves, and with our immediate community.

And with that in mind, what book are you reading? And if you don’t have one join us while we read On Liberty, and other books worth reading with my book club.

Till next time, my friends,

Maria ❤

Thanks for reading. Subscribe and join me for daily tidbits and weekly reflections on books, philosophy, and living with intention — one page, one day at a time.

Note: The links to the books are affiliate links. If you use them, it helps support my work at no extra cost to you. Thank you!

“Fill your bowl to the brim and it will spill.”

No matter how good or valuable something may seem, too much of it is always an issue. Just last article, we were talking about too much openness having led The Closing of the American Mind, as Allan Bloom so elegantly stated.

It is easy to see then, when you are talking about the abstract ideas and ideologies, that anything taken to the extreme is bound to turn ugly.

So why are we so prone to it?

“Keep sharpening your knife and it will blunt”

Maybe too much information, too much “sharpening,” of our minds, without the requisite actions, leaves us blunted. Maybe we have too much information and no where to take it. In order for knowledge to be worthy, one must act on it.

And maybe action on the knowledge actually slows us down long enough for us see it’s value, or its pros and cons. Maybe all this information we store ends up being noise, when what we really need is the stillness that comes with the contemplation of the knowledge in action. The cyclical route one should take instead — learn, do, reflect. All in their own, intentional, times.

“Care about people’s approval and you will be their prisoner.//Do you work, then step back. The only path to serenity.”

Peace can only come within. Put out only what is truly valuable.

Then step away? Go on to deal with the rest of life. Be at peace with what you’ve done, knowing the intention behind it was true, honest, and aiming at the highest you could have aimed.

Otherwise you are stuck in a mental prison of the number of likes, messages, comments, etc. Is success something to be desired if it leads to its own prison?

It all ends up being a fine balance, in the end. It would be a lie to say we don’t want to success. But the only true success may be one that is counterbalanced with the intuition of the Chinese Farmer.

It isn’t about the positivity or the negativity that comes from what you do. It’s about the intention, the value it brings, the honesty it portrays. When things are done in earnest, is it ever the case it won’t be good?

To that end, I hope you take something from this little bit, and maybe pick this book up for yourself. Let the Tao talk to you, in your own time, on the matters of life and how to live it.

And keep in mind that the way is never found in excess, but in returning to the center.

Have a great rest of your week.

Till next time,

Maria ❤

Thanks for reading. Subscribe and join me for daily tidbits and weekly reflections on books, philosophy, and living with intention — one page, one day at a time.

Note: The links to the books are affiliate links. If you use them, it helps support my work at no extra cost to you. Thank you!

I heard it said that Justice Antonin Scalia was both brilliant and polarizing. He appears to be a bit of an icon for the conservatives. I know next to nothing about him.

What I do know, and only found out recently, is that he said this:

“the judge who always likes the results he reaches is a bad judge.”

For that one thing, I can’t help but respect the man (and also want to find out a bit more about him.)

What makes this an important quote, you may ask? It is just talking about justices and the way they do their jobs. It has nothing to do with the greater public.

But that, my friend, is where I disagree. It has everything to do with leading a morally true and honest life. It is a statement on how one should allow oneself to be guided. A sort of north star for morality and virtue.

You see, morality is what it is rather than what we wish it to be. Unless you are postmodern in your thinking, you can agree with me that there is an objective truth outside of our perceptive one. Sometimes our perceptions align with that truth, and sometimes they don’t. And when they don’t, and we realize it, it is up to us to recognize that and change those perceptions.

This is the heart of the solution for a society that has been so deeply polarized.

The status quo today seems to be anyone who criticizes our views is our enemy. But all that does is create more and more enemies — no one is going to agree with us 100% of the time. Even people that align with our political beliefs will have some dissenting opinion, if they are being honest. And when they have the courage to speak up about it, the tension ensues.

The only thing this allows is for deepening divides. And it pits one political belief against the other, making one “good” and one “bad.” And between two choices, it’s true that there is a better choice, and one that is less than good. But political beliefs are much more nuanced to be so superficially divided from the get go.

So, if we go back to Scalia’s words, we can maybe start to learn to walk away from the beliefs we hold onto so tightly, and get closer to finding out the “Truth” as it is.

Perhaps one reason we’ve become so polarized and unable to let go is our constant search and need for happiness.

Over the years, we’ve placed a lot of emphasis on happiness and personal fulfillment. One need only have their eyes open and they will see “positive vibes only” or “living my best life” all over social media. There are even global measurements of happiness like the UN’s World Happiness Report or the OECD Better Life Index.

Happiness seems to be our ultimate goal.

And while that isn’t the topic of what I am trying to say, I mention it because this emphasis on happiness seems to bleed into our political beliefs and moral values.

We’ve placed so much emphasis on feeling good and “being happy” that we have formed a sort of aversion to anything uncomfortable and cognitively dissonant. We seem to be unable to stomach when something that we believe does not match to an objective truth. We would rather stay in the comforting bubble of warmth and joy rather than confront a world that is not only complex but certainly not on our side, at least not most of the time.

Take abortion, for example, one specific belief that I’ve personally wrestled with — the pro choice vs. pro life argument.

I’ve been a long time proponent of the pro-choice side. I don’t believe a woman should be forced to carry a baby she does not want. I don’t think it’s fair for the baby to be born, unwanted, and I think the adoption argument is much more complicated than we make it out to be. Having kids is such an awesome responsibility that it should be undertaken only by the strong and willing.

That is my perception, and the truth of the matter as I’ve seen it since I can remember thinking about the issue.

But, then again, it is an issue that is about life in and of itself. There is something to be heard and understood on the pro-life side. We are talking about innocent babies’ lives.

How can we know when they are sentient? When does life truly begin? These are not questions to be dismissed simply because I want pro-choice to be the right way to go about it. If science were to prove that babies in utero have sentience by week eight, who am I to say that their lives are not worthy?

“the judge who always likes the results he reaches is a bad judge.”

We can’t, if we are being intellectually honest and after thinking through the issues of the day, always like the results we reach. We must go with what the facts are, and what objective Truth appears to be, instead of where we want it to lead.

If we take Justice Scalia’s words to heart, think about all the heated arguments that could be dissipated. If our end goal is to get to the Truth rather than proving our own “truth” correct, then we are working on the same goal. We can see the other side with a little less anger and indignation, and a little more like a partnership in the mutual understanding of a complicated goal.

We still may not get to the Truth after a discussion, but we’ve heard each other out. We would come to a better understanding of the issue from both sides of the debate. Our minds may not be changed at all, but maybe we get a step closer to figuring out the answer.

And if we all acted on this, then peace would be a little closer than it appears to be today.

That’s it my friends.
I’ll see you soon for more quotes and life in written form.

Until then, here are a few of the books I’m considering reading to get to know Justice Scalia a little more — maybe you’d like to join me:

• The Essential Scalia: On the Constitution, the Courts, and the Rule of Law

• Scalia Speaks: Reflections on Law, Faith, and Life Well Lived

• Scalia Dissents: Writings of the Supreme Court’s Wittiest, Most Outspoken Justice

If you have a book in mind that you think I should read, let me know in the comments below.

Till next time

Maria ❤

Thanks for reading. Subscribe and join me for daily tidbits and weekly reflections on books, philosophy, and living with intention — one page, one day at a time.

Note: The links to the books are affiliate links. If you use them, it helps support my work at no extra cost to you. Thank you!

One of the coolest things about reading the great minds of the past is the hidden connections waiting for you to discover them. It is how often the ideas they write about are interwoven throughout time and space…how a Frenchman, an American, and an Austrian, separated by over a century, can meet in the world of ideas.

Tocqueville is someone I’ve wanted to read for a long time now, and I’ve learned a lot about him through other writers.

I’m currently reading The Closing of the American Mind by Allan Bloom, and he mentions Tocqueville as well.

Bloom says of him that he thought the greatest danger in a democratic society is the “enslavement to the public opinion.” Looking around our world today, one can’t help but agree. Cancel culture on both the left and the right, and even in just the daily lives of the people just trying to get by, is ever present.

In Democracy in America, Tocqueville writes:

“Nothing is more wonderful than the art of being free, but nothing is harder to learn how to use than freedom.”

I can’t help but see the connection between the two ideas, and possibly the reason we are in this confusing time in the United States, and even England.

In this I have to add Viktor Frankl who, in his book Man’s Search for Meaning, wrote:

I recommend that the Statue of Liberty on the East Coast be supplemented by a Statue of Responsibility on the West Coast.

Frankl and Tocqueville were pointing to something fundamental, which Bloom later diagnosed as the closing of the American mind, a sign that we hadn’t quite fulfilled the promise of freedom. We didn’t quite reach the goal.

Freedom, it turns out, is much more complicated than we give it credit for.

Bloom writes “openness used to be the virtue that permitted us to seek the good by using reason. It now means accepting everything and denying reason’s power.” The ability to be open is a direct result of the freedom we have created in our societies. But then we took it to the other extreme.

We have become so open that we allow everything…open to all interpretations of how life should be lived, all philosophies, and all subjective definitions of a good life, fearful to reject any as worse than others. Who is to say, after all, that we know the best way anyway?

But there is a level of willful ignorance, or maybe neglect, that we must necessarily take part in in order to stay intellectually honest and adhere to this standard. Because if we really look into the reality of objective truths, there is no possibility in which every way is an equally good way.

It seems we have almost placed freedom with egalitarianism, and have shunned any social notion of hierarchies of ideas. With this shunning away, we have in turn boxed ourselves in — we can no longer admit to certain ideas being better than others, how can we assign meaning to any of them? How can they all be equally valid?

For us to have our cake (freedom) and eat it too (live truly free, live a good life), the willingness and acceptance of everyone and everything will not allow us to do so.

We need freedom and equality for all. But with that statement comes an important caveat — personal and social responsibility.

Without the responsibility to take ownership of freedom, and use reason to distinguish between the good and the bad; without the attempt to get to an objective truth, we limit ourselves to a meaningless, hedonistic existence. One in which we are all free in theory, and in the superficial layer of the social fabric, but we are everywhere in chains — in our thoughts, in our groups, in the life that strives for originality without the understanding of what it takes to be a true individual.

Freedom without responsibility isn’t true freedom; openness without reason can never be true openness. There is no solid ground to stand on if we shy away from the hard work that both these privileges grant us. Because freedom and openness are privileges, and nothing worth having comes easy.

If it feels easy, something essential is missing. And that, I think, is worth considering more fully.

Till next time,

Maria ❤

Thanks for reading. Subscribe and join me for daily tidbits and weekly reflections on books, philosophy, and living with intention — one page, one day at a time.

Note: The links to the books are affiliate links. If you use them, it helps support my work at no extra cost to you. Thank you!

“There’s a vitality in…throwing yourself into life even with the possibility of error beckoning.”

I’ve been taking courses on Peterson Academy and am currently re-watching one of Peterson’s courses on Friedrich Nietzsche.

This little phrase, as he discussed Nietzsche and the complicated person that he was, stuck with me. He was talking about synthesizing the Dionysus spirit with the Apollo spirit — Dionysus being the emotional, passionate spirit and Apollo the calm, principled, rational one.

This seems to be a perpetual struggle within humanity, the delicate balance between reason and the senses.

While we pride ourselves on our reason, we also often overlook how much we lean and follow our emotions. Frans De Waal’s book Mama’s Last Hug is an illuminating example of how much we underestimate them. We are, after all, animals. And our reason has only just recently, in the grand scheme of things, arrived. We were much more emotional than anything in our primitive years. So our emotions are stronger, and more experienced, as is our intuition.

But it is Reason that helped propel us to the prosperity and level of sophistication that we have today. Despite all of our issues —  political, cultural, familial, and individual —  we are still quite advanced, and much better off than our ancestors. Our advances and relative level of comfort provide quite strong evidence to suggest that we should side with reason, more often than not.

So while it makes sense that we can easily overlook our emotions, it does not take away from how much we still need them.

Without our emotive side, and our passions, are we anything more than reasoning automatons? Take away love and relationships, passions that make sleepless nights worth it, and memories we cherish for years, and what are we left with? Is it any sort of life worth living?

Once you think about it, it’s very clear to see we need both Apollo and Dionysus type of spirits within us. If we are always caught up in our emotions, we can never see clear enough to move forward efficiently. But if we swing the other way and only follow our reason and cold hard facts, we lose something essential to the meaning of life.

Nietzsche, I think, was trying to share that in his writings. His originally discussed Apollo and Dionysus in The Birth Of Tragedy. He then purportedly works it out even more in later works that I have yet to accomplish reading — Thus Spoke Zarathustra and Beyond Good and Evil.

He saw the best sort of life, from my understanding, as a synthesis of the two dynamics. Action and passion from Dionysus, reason and deliberation from Apollo.

But in my estimation, a lot of the knowledge that you can have about what makes you, you, comes from Dionysus. I think he has to come first.

Just as a teenager or young adult rebels, the Dionysus spirit is alive and well, an adult prefers solo nights in to the “tiring” socialization that the youngsters live for, as Apollo reigns supreme. It’s only in later adulthood that the Apollo spirit slowly but surely takes hold. But it’s also then that we need its opposite.

Once you reach your late thirties and middle years, you start to notice, very subtly, routine and reason has given way to the rush of the new and the feeling of being completely submerged in a passion. But maybe it’s then we need the reminder that vitality comes with action and springing into the unknown without understanding what will come of it. Even if it is just failure.

Springing into action, even if you know you’ll fail, is the only way to figure yourself out. And figuring yourself out, though usually set aside for the young, is a never-ending process. It’s something we bring into adulthood too. Who ever truly knows who they are? Especially if you find yourself stagnant, what makes you so sure you know you are all that you can be?

What if all you know is what you have become? And maybe what you have become, is not fully what you can be.

And that notion has been central for me lately, just going after something, whatever that may be, knowing that mistakes will abound, errors made, possible embarrassments felt.

If you never let yourself try, where does that leave you in the end?

I think there’s something to be said for this notion in our public discourses as well. We’ve become so polarized and so quick to side with our group, that we often fail to risk speaking our minds for the fear of rejection.

But if you are not allowed to make mistakes, how do you grow? And how can you be sure of your convictions — are they just what you’ve settled on as you grew up or have they been in flux with you as you grow and learn? How do you know you shouldn’t review them?

Borrowing from Socrates, we should all understand that we really don’t know as much as we think we do. And if we pair our lack of knowledge with the balance of Nietzsche’s spirits of Apollo and Dionysus, we may end up with a life fully lived. And, maybe, even a more just world than the one we came into.

Just some thoughts today. What do you make of it?

Till next time,

Maria ❤

Thanks for reading. Subscribe and join me for daily tidbits and weekly reflections on books, philosophy, and living with intention — one page, one day at a time.

Note: The links to the books are affiliate links. If you use them, it helps support my work at no extra cost to you. Thank you!

I’ve been thinking about this, not because I think that allyship itself, in its true meaning, has anything inherently malevolent, but because it has now become a concept used to further divide.

And it’s ironic. Something that is supposed to be a strength and a call for unity is now the very thing that is furthering the division. But let me explain.

An ally, according to dictionary.com is defined as:

allied; allying

: to unite or form a connection or relation between : associate

Or,

: to form or enter into an alliance

Or,

: a sovereign or state associated with another by treaty or league

A few decades or so ago, an ally was hardly ever a single individual. It was mostly used in groups and states, countries, unions, etc.

Now an allyship usually means an individual that

“quite simply put, an [insert minority group here] ally is someone who supports and educates themselves about and speaks out and advocates for [said minority] people and/or community.” — Taken from TCU Pride Month website explanation of an ally for LGBTQIA+

The recent explanation of what it means to be an ally sounds morally virtuous on a surface level. But if you take a deeper look, as objectively as possible, you may be able to see that there is an inherent division in it.

Often, in practice, allyship is treated as a binary, something very black and white. Even though the concept itself doesn’t necessarily require that, it seems to translate psychologically as someone either being an ally or an enemy.

If one is said to be an ally to a certain group, then it is automatically the case that they are the enemy to another.

And if the group is the LGBTQIA+ community, then the enemy must logically be heterosexuals. You might say that’s not true, just the homophobic ones. It is pinned more as the side of good vs the side of the bigoted.

In reality, though, it is anyone that disagrees with the standard LGBTQIA+ messages. Say for example, you are not homophobic and have no issue with it, but you disagree with children being affirmed transgender in schools without the parent’s knowledge, or giving puberty blockers to kids. If you disagree and voice it, you are then labeled a homophobe.

If you are an ally for the anti-racist crowd, you are then an enemy for racists.

And while that sounds good, you are deemed an enemy if you again disagree with the party line. Say you are not a racist, but disagree with DEI. The group finds fault with that, and therefore you are no longer an ally.

Because DEI is framed as purely for equality and fairness, and who would rationally argue with that? But what if no one is arguing against that, but against other issues with DEI. As this article, supportive of DEI, suggests that the opponents are solely arguing with “echoes long-debunked racial hierarchies of intelligence.” But what if they are not? That’s not very well considered.

If you are on the left of the political divide, you tend to view the right as “a threat to the nation’s well being.”

If you are on the right of the political divide, you view the left similarly.

In reality, both extremes have the element, but that’s another topic for another day.

And, to the most basic point, if you are not an ally then you are the enemy.

And that is the most poignant point. That is where it goes wrong.

The problem with this line of thinking is just how simplistic it is. It reduces people to flat characters in badly written novels. If you don’t agree with a policy, then you are not an ally, and if you are not an ally, then you are the enemy.

This line of thinking isn’t just a false dichotomy, but it also creates an “us vs. them” dynamic.

People are no longer viewed as the complicated creatures we all are. Grace cannot be given when something is viewed in such black and white terms. You are not allowed to question the ‘why’ behind the act of rebellion against the group’s thought, and then you are alienated. You are the other.

And the people in the group? They forget they are your friends. They forget they know you deeper than that. And all they are left with is the distaste of a person they thought was on “their side” but is now part of the enemy.

People tend to think they are standing on a higher moral ground when they cut others out of their lives without discussion. But, as an old adage says, “the road to hell is paved with good intentions.”

It leaves no room for conversation. No room for nuance. And no room for the common humanity I know most of us share.

Sooner or later, it becomes a bigger deal.

Bigger than the relationships an individual has severed. Bigger than the individual opinion of one. When the us vs. them mentality is allowed to grow, it will inevitably lead to disaster, and some of humanity’s darkest moments.

You see, “othering” is not a new thing. Every atrocity that has been perpetrated on a mass scale has seen it. We just need to stop being blind to it in our times.

Peterson, in his Foreword to Solzhenitsyn’s Gulag Archipelago said, “The dangers of the utopian vision have been laid bare, even if the reasons those dangers exist have not yet been fully and acceptably articulated.”

A utopian vision can never be reality, because it assumes perfection. Allyship to any group that sees the other as the only evil and nothing in their camp as evil too is a group that leans to a utopian vision.

Life is not like that, and we must see that. We have to acknowledge the danger of this thinking, and be cognizant within ourselves and our groups enough to go against it. We have to look more to the faults within ourselves and our group rather than the faults of “the others” if we are to come to any sort of common humanity, which requires humility.

And so, there are two solutions out of this. The one is discussed above — humility.

The other is to stop the allyship.

The only ally you should be is an ally to the good of humanity.

Nothing more, nothing less. We cannot hold an ally flag for one group and completely dismiss the other. People are too imperfect to fit neatly into any box.

Be an ally for the good of the humanity in everyone. Have the humility to see your own errors first. And speak up courageously for this line of thinking instead of any one particular group.

Speak out for our common humanity, no matter the side.

There are good people on the left, there are good people on the right.

The assassins are the evil, not the commentators. The murderers of innocent victims are evil, not the people who are just trying to go to work and live their lives — no matter what side they are on. Give them the benefit of the doubt before you write them off.

Be an Ally for the Good of Humanity. Hold the truth above either side. That’s it.

Till next time,

Maria ❤

Thanks for reading. Subscribe and join me for daily tidbits and weekly reflections on books, philosophy, and living with intention — one page, one day at a time.

Subscribe now

Note: The links to the books are affiliate links. If you use them, it helps support my work at no extra cost to you. Thank you!