Bill’s Blog

I read an article that grabbed my attention.  The author appealed to my sense of justice, morality, and patriotism.  I haven’t linked to it here because I’d like to avoid the political debate that would likely accompany the link.  If you want to have that debate, let’s do lunch.

There were several inflammatory quotes that I loved (but won’t share).  The ones that provoked me to write this post were

“true complexity arises when… we reach the place where we must be intolerant in order to defend tolerance, or unkind in order to defend kindness, or hateful in order to defend what we love.”

“That’s real moral complexity… sometimes men must kill in order to preserve life; that sometimes they must violate their values in order to maintain those values; and that… true heros often must slink in the shadows, slump-shouldered and despised…”

What prompted me to make the post was the intriguing picture this paints.  History has shown that we often do these things.  I just have a hard time accepting that we MUST become hateful to defend what we love, or unkind to defend kindness, or intolerant to defend tolerance.  If we don’t live what we value, then do we really value it?  Conversely, can we live with the consequences if we choose to live our values?

I was catching up on some podcasts and ran across an interesting site.  I learned that Roz Savage is rowing across the Pacific ocean alone.  There was a quote there that caught my attention.

“I’ve been fortunate enough to find out through personal experience that money and material possessions don’t make you happy. I used to think that they would, but instead found that the materialistic lifestyle left me feeling empty and unfulfilled.

I did an interesting exercise one day. I sat down and wrote two versions of my obituary. The first was the one I was heading for if I carried on with my present lifestyle, and the other was the one I dreamed of having. They were very different.

So it was time for a change. I didn’t want to get to the end of my life and look back with regret for all the things I hadn’t done. It was time to stop dreaming, and start doing.”

I spent an hour reading about her journey, how she prepares, and the toll it takes on her emotionally.  Yet, Roz says she loves her life and is doing what she loves.

While I’m still digesting such a different approach to life (i.e. rowing across the ocean), it does raise the obvious questions.  Am I doing what I love?  Am I living the life I want to live?  Will I be happy with my obituary?