Mongooseosophy

  • Better Is More

    I spent a significant part of my life involved in amateur motorsports. From my earliest recollection, I wanted to race cars and for a time in my thirties and forties, I did. In racing school, the focus was on car control and safety much more than on speed. Our instructors told us these were the disciplines to work on to be able to go faster. As the Navy SEALs say “slow is smooth and smooth is fast.” Some however, sought to go faster through spending cubic dollars on what drivers jokingly referred to as “go fast parts”. For the most part, those who went that route seemed to crash or break their cars faster than before, but never drive better, finish better or win. There were guys who bought into the classic Western philosophy that “more is better”. About the only thing that I saw go faster was their money.

    As a musician, I’ve seen some lament the quality or features of their instrument. If only they could afford better, they could play better. I have golfer friends who switch clubs in and out of their bag in search of the “better” putter, driver, wedge. I can’t think of a single instance where it worked as a permanent solution. I’ve wanted better cars, jobs and things. I don’t know anyone who hasn’t been guilty of wishing for different or better or more.

    No matter what the endeavor is, I’ve found that when I am looking outside of myself for the better or the more, I’m looking in the wrong place. The external more cannot possibly bring out the better in me. But the better in me will certainly lead to the more externally.

    When I am “better is more” mode, I am asking myself “what can I do?”. I am the subject and focus of my resolution, not someone or something else. I put the responsibility for more and better on my own shoulders. I can seek out others for advice and wisdom. I can read and educate myself. I can take a class, attend a webinar, watch a Ted talk. The resources to attain to more are limitless, all the more so via the internet. You Tube has more creators offering free tutorials on just about anything human beings can wish to create or achieve.

    Nick Vujicic was born with no arms and legs. Today, he is married, the father of four and an international speaker and author. The title of his first book, written in 2007 is Life Without Limits. He speaks to students, advises departments of governments and corporate executives on living without boundaries and achieving excellence. He faced his physical limitations and asked himself what his limits truly were. He is still asking.

    Niki Lauda was the 1975 Formula One World Champion when, in 1976, he crashed and was burned so severely a priest was brought to his hospital bedside to administer last rites. He couldn’t see or speak, but he could hear and he got the nurses to keep the TV and radio on 24/7 so his mind could focus on the sounds of life. He refused to die. Six weeks later, he raced again. In 1977 and 1984 he won two more World Championships as a driver. He also won World Championships as a constructor from 2014 until 2020 when he passed away.

    Tiger Woods just finished The Masters after carding back-to-back 78’s and finishing near the bottom of the field. This after nearly needing to have his leg amputated following a car accident 14 months ago. In between then and today, he faced the possibility of not only never playing golf again, but never walking again. Several past PGA major champions didn’t even make the cut, but Tiger did. He looked at the reality of his permanently deformed leg and rebuilt his swing around his new reality, then went out and outplayed fully healthy men ten years younger or more.

    These are not men who asked “why?”. They are men who asked “how”? They sought their better from within themselves. They didn’t accept what was handed to them as a final sentence for their lives. They asked what they could do and how to do it. They kept asking until they got their answer. Then they went to work.

    Each one can tell their own story and there are thousands of other stories you can read by men and women just like them. Not everyone required a crisis to act. Most just wanted more and didn’t wait around for it to be given and decided to not quit until they had their more. They became better and more was the natural result.

    I cannot be un-talked out of this fact: If they did it, I can do it too. None of their success was from something outside of themselves. None of them got something I will never have a chance to get. No one who ever rose above their circumstances to achieve their dreams ever did it the easy way. They simply never quit. They refused to accept no. The “no” in their life became “not this way, some other way”. The “not this time” became “next time”. They turned it into that. It wasn’t done for them, it was a deliberate choice and a chosen resolve.

    Thomas Edison tried “two thousand” different materials in search of a filament for the light bulb. When none worked satisfactorily, his assistant complained, “All our work is in vain. We have learned nothing.” Edison replied very confidently, “Oh, we have come a long way and we have learned a lot. We now know that there are two thousand elements which we cannot use to make a good light bulb.”

    The Bible tells a story about the end of time when God separates people into sheep and goats. As I read that passage carefully, I’m left with the impression that the only difference between a sheep and a goat comes down to what they did or did not do.

    I choose to do. Doers become better and better is more.

  • Life Is Opinion

    The title comes from a quote by Marcus Aurelius, the Emperor of Rome from 161-180 AD, which struck me as false when I first read it. It hit a chord that was mentally disruptive and it prompted me to spend some time contemplating it as Marcus was not known for being a frivolous speaker. I thought about myself and my opinions and specifically, I focused on how I wielded them. The more I considered the simplicity of this statement, the more I came to agree with it. It has proven to be a significant benefit in my relationships and personal peace.

    Consider the raw truth of the statement. For example, the NCAA men’s basketball championship was just held last week. If you ask any North Carolina fan about the game, they’re likely to tell you it was a great game. If you ask a Kansas fan the same question, you’re going to hear a different story, and the two will likely conflict in a lot of areas. Is anybody lying or exaggerating the truth? Doubtful. If your team won, the game was good, if they lost it was bad. Opinions, but not facts. The chief fact is that one team won, one team lost. That’s about it.

    Does one political party govern better than the other? Does one flavor taste better than another? Is one vacation spot more desirable than another? Is one person a better human being than another? Is one job better than another? One company? One school? One church? These are all value judgements and largely subjective. Ask eight billion people, get eight billion opinions, all of them valid.

    In considering Marcus’ statement, I am amazed at how closed off I had allowed myself to become as I got entrenched in my opinions. Somewhere in my thinking processes I ended up converting opinions into facts that were indisputable to me. In conversations with others who had opinions – differing ones, to be precise – I found myself arguing with and judging them. Both the person and the opinion. Left to run unhindered, some of my judgements even turned into resentments. My opinions, converted into facts, became weapons with which to criticize friends, family, co-workers, people in media sharing opinions different than my own and people I didn’t even know. My hubris shames me when I see it for what it is.

    This is not to say that there are not standards of right and wrong, because there are and I believe any thinking person recognizes and accepts this fact. I take my standard from the Bible. Others derive their standards from education, the Constitution, their religion – the list is endless. I have observed that, generally speaking, some form of ‘do unto others as you’d have them do unto you’ is an acceptable standard of right and wrong for most situations. Love your neighbor as yourself. No sane person harms themselves.

    Assuming the standard of right and wrong is accepted and applied in most situations, then whatever is left over is opinion. After reading, considering and agreeing with Marcus and after spending some time reevaluating my actions in situations where opinions conflict – especially where some kind of resolution is desired between the parties involved – and after altering some of my responses, I’ve learned some valuable lessons.

    Since I accepted that I was simply dealing with an opinion, not a fact, I did not need to convince or change the other person or their opinion. They are as equally entitled to theirs as I am to mine, regardless of how poor, uneducated, harmful or silly I might think it is at first. Since I no longer felt the burden of convincing anyone of anything, I (unintentionally, at first) allowed myself to actually listen and consider their opinion. Rather than playing out responses in my head while they were advocating their position, I actually heard it without any other influences blocking or warping their words. Instead of focusing on my words, my ideas and my responses, I completely freed myself up to just take in and consider. It’s powerful and it’s liberating. It grieves me to see our society ripped apart by the ways many choose to engage with each other using social media as a weapon, rather than a tool for connection which is its purpose.

    I’m grieved because I have learned so much. I’ve learned about myself. I’ve learned about others. I’ve been re-reminded that there’s always more to life than what I know, what I have heard and what I have experienced and always will be. I’ve learned that I always need to be learning, which means I should always be hearing, or putting myself in a position to hear. I’ve learned that I can hear what someone has to say in totality while agreeing with all, most, some or none of what they have to say. I’ve learned just because they’ve shared an opinion, it doesn’t mean I have to respond with one of my own. I’ve learned this is most true when the other person is signaling that they have no interest or intention of considering anything I might respond with. I’ve learned that every opinion is acceptable simply because every person has the right to one.

    I have learned that I can learn from anyone. I have learned that I can learn from those I disagree with, even if all I learn is how I do not want to think, believe, speak or act. They say even a broken clock is right twice a day. I believe there is a lesson in every circumstance if I purpose in advance to see it and that cannot be done if I am clinging to my opinion to the exclusion of anything contrary.

    I’ve learned how to be open to other ideas. I’ve learned that there are a lot better ways to do some things than the way I’ve been doing them. I’ve learned to see things from other viewpoints because more than one thing can be true at the same time. I’ve learned perspective. It’s absolutely redeeming. It allows me to be relatable and to relate. It fosters trust and it’s the basis of better relationships. Increased knowledge and understanding have allowed me to become more influential. Instead of just my own singular understanding, I have added to it the understanding of others. Learning to be a better listener has made me a better hearer, and being a better hearer has given me access to more people in deeper ways.

    People just want to be heard. I certainly want to be heard. But better than being heard is being understood and/or accepted. I can understand someone else and wholly disagree with them or their position. It’s just an opinion, after all. But at least I know where they’re coming from and by my acceptance (not agreement) of their position, they are more open to hearing from me about my own, or my response to theirs. When I give the courtesy to honestly listen to hear, not rebut, once trust is established, that’s when the other person is willing to hear and consider my opinion. I’ve found that this – and only this – is the place where meaningful relationship truly happens. Going back to the Bible, Jesus tells me that no man has any great love until he ‘lays down his life’ for another. He did it physically for humanity, that’s not my calling. The simplest, most effective and most common laying down of my life involves talking less and listening more, from the heart and with integrity.

    I am astounded at the clarity and peace that putting this into practice has brought me. It’s no longer important to be right, that’s not even the point. It’s about loving another above my self in the brief window of time that we’re together. Giving to another what I would want given to me. Inviting them into relationship through consideration. If they cannot return it, that’s a sure signal that the relationship I desire with them cannot happen. It frees me up to value them by moving on from them with grace, peace and love. With regard to other’s opinions that are harmful, antagonistic or destructive, in walking away I can give them ‘the gift of struggle’ as a wise advisor once said to me. Allowing them to continue on their path of discovery as I continue on mine without animosity, judgement or ill will. But if they can return it, then I have won a friend or deepened a relationship.

    I’m built for connection. I believe everyone is. Josh McDowell says we are born with the urge to merge. No doubt. I’m excited to have new tools in my tool belt to seek and enjoy fulfilling and joyful mergers with all kinds of people and their opinions.

  • Revert To The Present Moment

    I was playing in a golf tournament with a partner – my favorite tournament of the golf season. We had played a round robin match and come out on top in our flight. We faced the winners of the other seven flights on a playoff hole, and now it was down to the last two teams. We faced off on the 2nd playoff hole, a short Par 3 over water. All tournament long, it had played from 135-145 yards. But there in the playoff, with everything on the line, they had moved the tee box up and the hole was playing at 118 yards. In an alternative shot format, it was my turn to hit the tee shot. I was very comfortable hitting from 135-145, it’s number I like and had played the hole well all weekend. We’d planned that my partner would take the tee shot on playoff hole #1, and I’d take #2 if we got there.

    118 yards was not a number I liked. It was in between two clubs, and there in the pressure of the moment and the sudden realization of the changed tee box, I simply couldn’t decide whether to hit a less club hard, or a bigger club soft. In my indecision I picked a club and choked, hitting my ball in the water. We lost the playoff hole, finishing second. Second’s not bad, but winning is better. Especially when it’s in your grasp.

    I’ve thought back on that day, a year or two before COVID was a reality. We had played confidently all tournament; my partner and I were a very effective team. Why did I suddenly tense up and choke? It wasn’t the pressure of the tournament; my partner and I had competed well together all season in many tournaments. It really wasn’t the distance of the shot. I have a 118-yard shot; I’m less confident in it than other numbers, but I have it.

    No, the reason I choked in that moment is because I wasn’t in it.

    My body was in it, but my emotions, my thoughts, my swagger and confidence were gone. They were back on the other tee box, earlier in the weekend. They were in a previous moment. The one that required a 135–145-yard shot. That was not this moment. My result was inevitable.

    Would we have won if I was in the moment? That’s a question that can’t be answered, but we would have had a better chance. I would have hit that shot with the same confidence I’d been hitting all weekend. I didn’t hit it with anything but fear, confusion, worry and hope. If I have learned anything in golf, it’s that you can never hit a golf shot to NOT do something. Every single shot must be for a purpose. It must have a reason for being executed. Hope is simply not a strategy in golf, the same as in life. It’s needful but it won’t carry the day. Hope leads to and requires decisive action to come to fruition. Decisive action requires purposeful thought. Purposeful thought leads to purposeful action. None of that was present in that particular golf shot.

    I’m discovering how important it is to revert to the present moment when I am challenged by anything in life. The unexpected. Bad news. A change of plans. Not getting my way. A broken promise, bad service, poor drivers on the road…the list is literally endless.

    I can’t go back and repair that mistake obviously, but I can learn from it. If I could go back, I would close my eyes, take a few deep, cleansing breaths and ignore everything outside of myself. I would settle my mind on the number and accept that the tees got moved up. I’d let go of what used to be – how I thought it would continue to be – and accept what actually was. I’d accept that what I had planned for and envisioned just got blown up. I’d revert to the present moment and look at my options for the shot. I’d make my choice, commit to it, practice swing it and rip it. My focus would not be – as it was in that moment – on the result. My focus would be on what it had been on all weekend, and should have remained on in that moment. The shot. Nothing else matters in golf except THIS SHOT NOW. The present moment.

    I’m discovering this is a metaphor for life. I can’t live it to NOT achieve things or to avoid things. Life must be lived to do things, to accomplish. Yes, there are evils that I must consciously and actively avoid – but those tend to be anomalies in my path, not norms.

    The power of reverting to the present moment is more powerful than I have ever realized. Currently in my life I am facing emotional distresses, business challenges, economic challenges, pressures of responsibility – the same as anyone reading this. So, allow me to bring you into my moment. This one right now as I am typing this out on my laptop.

    I am currently in my home, heated to 72 degrees. I am sitting in my comfortable chair in my office with my feet up. I have on my headphones, listening to music that helps me focus on what I want to write. I have a full stomach and comfortable clothes. My family is safe, no one is sick, everyone’s home. I have a Pellegrino and lime in a 30-ounce Yeti sitting chilled next to me. The power is on, the water is hot, the bills are paid. The Huns are not beating a path to my door, the police are not actively working a crime scene in my proximity, Russia hasn’t lobbed a nuke my way.

    I am safe. In this moment. Right now. That is my norm 99.99% of my moments so far for nearly 57 years. There is no crisis. I am learning I can choose to revert to THIS moment, and others like it when life starts to get tough. Because that’s what most of my problems are. Life being tough. Not crises, not even close to crises. We jokingly say first world problems, and we’re not too far off when we say it.

    I am discovering that I have the power to choose my thoughts at all times. I am also discovering that life seems to feel obliged to push me toward negative ones in times of inconvenience and annoyance masked as crisis. The wisdom is seeing the obstacle for what it actually is, not what the flight or fright part of my brain tells me it is. I’ve found no better way for navigating the immediate and visceral emotion and panic than to choose to revert to the present moment in my mind in the midst of provocation and disappointment. By training myself – purposely choosing my thoughts – I believe that if and when an actual crisis does come, I will have better tools for handling and managing it effectively, with purpose and to move it more rapidly toward resolution. And if I cannot change the circumstance, I can maintain control of myself in it. Better control of myself is better control of my decision-making processes. Self-control is mastery. It is attainable. It takes effort, and it is hard. But it is possible. I am doing it. For me, that’s all I need to know to get up and try again.

    Tournament season starts this Saturday. Bring it. I’ve never been more mentally ready.

  • Relaxing Into The Pain

    I recently took up Qi-Gong, a Korean form of martial art that includes elements of yoga and tai-chi. It incorporates breathing, balance, calmness and stillness. It encourages purposeful thinking and mental quietness through meditation by focusing your thoughts on your body and breathing during the exercises. Through it, I have learned what I think of as “relaxing into the pain”.

    All exercise must have pain if it is to be transformative. Pain is the part that is currently not natural strength that the exercise is training to become natural by way of “stretching”. This makes pain both progressive and constant for the individual who chooses growth as a lifestyle, be it physical, emotional, mental or spiritual. The pain is a going beyond. The obstacle becomes the way, says Ryan Holiday.

    I learned to relax into the physical pain by controlled deep breathing. Purposely relaxing my muscles while stretching is the key to Qi-Gong. Controlled breathing aids the relaxation allowing me to better accept the pain as part of the process, not tensing up in anticipation of it. Letting it happen and controlling it through breathing and thoughtful purpose, not physical exertion alone. It is a form of resistance exercise. Relaxing into the pain. I like that phrase.

    Through this physical discipline, I’m learning to translate the same process to other parts of my life. It is good to stretch myself beyond who I am today. Jesus taught that unless a seed falls into the ground and dies, it always stays a seed. It only grows if it gets planted, dies and becomes something else – a plant, a flower, a bush, a tree. All of life is about becoming. Physical strength, emotional strength, mental strength and spiritual strength.

    In the beginning of any endeavor, not being natural, the pain is greater, the challenge is harder and the temptation to forget the whole thing is at its highest. This is not the place to entertain doubts and quit, but the place from which to commit to purpose and push beyond. By pushing beyond that initial pain point I have experienced increases in strength and flexibility. The pain that I was tempted to avoid has turned out to be the primary path to the growth I’ve attained to. Such pain will also be the path for any future growth I seek.

    When I go too far beyond my current limitations in Qi-Gong, I stretch beyond what I am physically capable of. This results in more pain but brings with it potential damage. It can serve as a source of delay toward achieving my goal, because now I have to take time out from growing to heal. It happens because I stop relaxing into the pain, and instead try to force my way through it. I cannot make my body do what it physically cannot do. It cannot give what it does not have to give.

    This is true in the emotional, mental and spiritual disciplines as well.

    A part of growth is the art of learning when to let go, learning when to recognize the end of myself. I cannot give what I do not have in the emotional, mental and spiritual disciplines either. In relationships, growth is also accepting the limitations of others in these same disciplines. This is also part of relaxing into the pain. Just as physical strength and dexterity take time to build, so it is with the emotional, mental and spiritual. Sometimes it feels like two steps forward, one step back. Sometimes it just feels like three steps back.

    I’m having to learn the difference between quitting and resting. I’m not finding it easy. Learning to recognize and accept my physical limitations is a good starting place. Rather than bull my way through, determined to reach the solution or objective, I’m starting to understand the value of rest and pacing myself. I’m learning to not just see the things my instructor is able to do, but I’m coming to understand the value of the 15 years of work they’ve put into their discipline that enables me to see it. I cannot mimic in a few months what’s taken fifteen years for them to master.

    Relaxing into the pain can look and feel like quitting sometimes. But it is not quitting when it is done with wisdom. Wisdom knows its limitations, but it also believes in its capabilities. Wisdom knows that if it remains patient and doesn’t quit, it will win. Wisdom understands that taking things slowly in the beginning and perfecting its craft will yield better results later, more often than not more quickly too. Today we might say short term pain, long term gain; playing the long game. Determination and wisdom can and must walk hand in hand.

    I see relaxing into the pain as acceptance of what is and working with it, rather than fighting it. I find that a little harder to do in the emotional, mental and spiritual world, but I needn’t. The application is the same. No growth in those areas happens all at once. Resistance is the signal that I am about to go beyond capabilities. It’s true in my body, it’s true in my mind, it’s true in my heart. Relaxing into the pain and accepting my limitations is part of the path. Acceptance is the path to becoming. I don’t know how some of my story is going to end. I’m grateful to be learning tools that help keep it going. I’m still writing.

  • Joyful Preoccupation and Absentmindedness

    What do you think about? With what is your mind preoccupied? Right now? Take a moment, a deep breath, close your eyes and see.

    I’ve realized that I have spent a lot of my thought life being preoccupied about things I didn’t want in my life. Things about myself I hated. People I didn’t like, reasons why I didn’t like them. My sports teams that chronically underperformed. My sports team that consistently overperformed, just didn’t win it all. The condition of the economy, the current politician or party in power. The list of those things can be endless in me. Many of them things I couldn’t even do anything about, like a sports team or the weather.

    Some of them are things I actually could do something about and didn’t realize it. I already had all the tools and was even using them, but in the wrong way. I was frustrated and not getting the results I wanted.

    Take a person I’m angry with, for example. When I begin to think about what angers or hurts me, and I revolve that person and their actions – or lack of actions – in my mind with consistency. I begin to create a grievance narrative in my mind. I am telling myself a story. I focus on what is wrong, what I don’t like, what isn’t that should be and what is that shouldn’t. I zero in on negative things. I focus on the problem and if I do it long enough, I come to do it to the exclusion of anything else. I become “joyously preoccupied” with my negative line of thinking, and I become “absentminded” to anything positive or redemptive about myself, the person or situation I am dealing with. Followed to its conclusion this scenario is going to end in hurt, hopelessness and broken relationship. The opposite of all that I am wanting or intending to achieve.

    There is no question that we need to look at, be aware of and respond to the negatives in our lives. Not just our lives but the lives of others and even circumstances. But the point of looking at them is to diagnose them and treat them, not to become preoccupied and overly focused on them. Doctors study diseases for the purpose of preventing them and their effects. Their ultimate goal is to cure, then eradicate the disease. Not to get caught up in the awfulness of both it and its effects. The awfulness of the disease is, in fact, the motivation to do something to resolve it to begin with.

    We cross the line of appropriateness in our minds, when we misplace our joyous preoccupations. The Bible counsels us to think on things that are true, honest, just, pure, lovely, of good report and if there be any virtue or praise in them. It counsels us to “take every thought captive”, to examine them – not just the thought, but it’s motivational source. It is the second part of that statement, where I believe we largely fail in our preoccupations.

    When we don’t consider the source, we don’t look at the becoming part of our lives. We don’t have a compass to tell us what direction the source is pointing us.

    I think we should analyze preoccupations from time to time and ask who and what am I becoming? Put another way, am I becoming who and what I want(ed) to? Am I being on the outside who I have convinced myself I am on the inside? Then, ask what am I becoming joyously preoccupied with, and what am I being absentminded to? Then, compare the results. It’s a brain check. It can become habitual and it should be. It requires weapons grade honesty and self assessment. It leads to healing, hope and peace with ourselves, with others and circumstances, even the ones out of our control. Joyous preoccupation with the possible, the hopeful, the doable – regardless of difficulty – is the path that will lead us to them. Viktor Frankl said, “Everything can be taken from a man but one thing: the last of the human freedoms — to choose one’s attitude in any given set of circumstances, to choose one’s own way.”

    I love my little dog, Sherlock. He’ll be 17 this year. We don’t have many more years together and I can see the deterioration slowly advancing. I caught myself focusing on that deterioration. I googled many things about aging dogs and their activities. I especially wanted to know how to know when it’s time to let him die with dignity, the dog way. All good things to do and know. But I found myself getting very dialed into his dying, which he will certainly do, and I lost sight of his living. I became joyously preoccupied with his death and absentminded of his life.

    I have the rest of his life to show him how much I love him, and receive all the love he has to give until that time comes. The result of my becoming joyously preoccupied with the rest of his life is more peace and less anxiousness. I can live in the now and not have fear of the tomorrow. One day, I will have all the happy yesterdays. That will be the time to grieve. Today is the day to be joyously preoccupied with our lives together. If I can purpose to do this with my dog, I can purpose to do this with myself, any person, any situation.

    Caution: Watchdog on Premises

    Intentional Living, The Purpose Filled Life, Seven Habits of Highly Effective People. These books and others like them remind us that the joy of life is purpose. Purpose is looking for a bright future we want to see, doing it in the right now and being joyously preoccupied with that goal. Absentminded of things that run contrary, and eagerly receiving that which harmonizes and synergizes with our purpose.

    Purpose is the becoming of life. My purpose is to become as joyfully preoccupied as I can with anything and everything that will aid me in becoming who and what I want to be, leaving me free to be absentminded with all the worries and problems that life is going to bring. When they do come, I will learn how to joyfully preoccupy myself with how to best respond to them in a manner that is consistent with who it is I am intending to become. I can be defined by my life, or I can define it by writing the story of my life. My pen is my mind, the words are my choices and actions.

    This is my blog about becoming. I am chronicling my path. I am hopeful someday, someone will be helped by how I walked it, who I became and what I overcame to do it. All of us are writing our stories. I hope to inspire you to join me and start writing a good one for yourself today.