From the Stacks … November 20th, 2020

Jonathan had an acute awareness of the brevity of life. My son rediscovered this particular essay demonstrating that very thing and was moved by it. Jonathan wrote it on his birthday in 2011.

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Musings Upon Turning Sixty

 

I am a child of God

The heavens reverberate with a shudder of grief when I am in tears

The angels from a million pinnacles give a shout when I find joy

For I am part of a universal plan

A determining factor in His Almighty decision

Whether I fly by night or drive by day

All of heaven is hushed and brought to action

When I am in need …

This is a poem I wrote on a Greyhound bus when I was twenty years old, on my way to meet up with a friend who was in need. I had two packets of Zesta crackers, a can of Diet coke and exactly $1.25 in my wallet for other incidental expenses. I didn’t care. After all, I liked Zesta crackers. I also didn’t care that I had $1.25 in my pocket.

Truthfully, I still don’t.

I wake up this morning sixty years of age. My birthday

Sixty is significant.

First of all, you’re no longer in your fifties–that in-between season, in which you’re not quite an old codger yet, though you’re past many “studly” possibilities.

No, sixty is different.

It’s the gateway drug to Medicare.

There are sixty seconds in a minute, sixty minutes in an hour. Sixty is three twenties, six tens, four fifteens, twelve fives… Now I’m just being ridiculous.

The reason I shared the verse at the beginning of this essay is that I could have written it today and it would have been just as fresh and true.

I still believe it.

I still believe that I am a son of God–not in the sense that I must be careful handling my water glass, lest it gain alcoholic proportions, but a son of God because I am included in the mind of my Creator and Father.

Everybody in our generation is concerned about “liberal” and “conservative,” right and left–but honestly, my friends, I’ve always prayed for a straight, plain path and avoided the drastic turns based on society’s pressure to conform.

In the 1960’s, when I was  teenager, it was posh to cast a jaundiced eye towards civil rights and social reform while rallying around the American flag regarding Vietnam. It just never made sense to me to go halfway around the world to kill off the people in a small country in the name of democracy when we hadn’t yet given full rights to all of our citizens.

In the 1970’s, it was all about partying and lavishing oneself with platitudes of perfection and dancing the night away. Since I knew I wasn’t perfect and wasn’t a very good dancer, I chose to work on my personality, principles and trying to practice what I preached.

In the 1980’s, while the religious community was becoming obsessed with social issues, I continued to expound upon the notion that since God does not look on the outward appearance buts looks on the heart, we should spend more time working on our own internals and not so much about our other people’s  morality.

Likewise, in the 90’s and even coming into the 2000’s, I just could never sign on the dotted line” of the Contract with America. After all, who’s America were they talking about?

The reason for my choices?

It’s because I know how limited my faculties are, how fragile my talents and how weak my resolve.

The problem with self-esteem is that it so easily loses its steam–always having to be boiled up again. Truly, a waste of time, energy and talent, perpetuating self-involvement and little awareness of the needs of others.

Today I am sixty years old. How do I feel?

Starting with my feet–they feel about seventy-five.

My ankles are hangin’ in there at about fifty-two.

My knees are about ninety-one.

My hips maintain a really cool forty.

My waist? Well, let’s not go there.

My heart is a mystery, but certainly has more creaks than it used to.

My face has a myriad of ages, depending on how much sleep I get.

My eyes are a split vote–the right one an octogenarian, and the left one, still floating around thirty-five.

 My emotions are daily cleansed so they’re like a newborn.

My soul is always attempting to be as old as God but as young as a child.

And my brain? Well, my brain is still twenty years old, riding on that bus, believing that God cares …  about me.

Don’t be so concerned about the right and the left. Look at where you want to go–and steer your life straight ahead. Because after we’re gone, no one is going to discuss our faults, only our good points. If we don’t leave behind much of a record of righteousness, we probably won’t be mentioned at all. What I want people to remember is that I started out doing something and on the morning I passed, I was still doing it.

So let me call sixty a bookmark. 

I have fewer chapters to write than those that have already been edited.

But that means I have the complete capability of going for a great twist in the end.

Living a Legendary Life … November 15th, 2020

The Clay Way

Henry Clay was known as the “Great Compromiser.”  Although he ran for President of the United States five times–and lost five times–the main thrust of his political career was in Congress, negotiating the particular “deal of the day.”

Although the Washington and Lincoln are extolled by the history books as great leaders, Henry Clay is rarely mentioned in the same breath. It certainly isn’t because of inactivity. He was probably the most powerful political figure of his era.

It’s because he was the great compromiser–and ended up negotiating matters that really should never have been negotiated. For you see, Henry Clay found himself in the position of trying to compromise a deal between the North and South and the emerging states of the Union over the issue of slavery.  Although most historians will agree that Henry Clay, himself, was opposed to the institution, he felt it was more important to maintain the status quo of a peaceful union than to pursue the excellence of a slave-free society.

• When is it right to be peaceful? 
• When is it necessary to raise the fuss that creates the change that fosters new attitudes that lead to a better world?

 Some things may be compromised and some things are not negotiable.

In leading a legendary life, perhaps the greatest attribute to attain is discernment.  And specifically, discerning what is changing, what needs to change, what will change and what must remain the same. If you mix these up, you end up on the short end of the stick, with history viewing you as an encumbrance.  So how do we know the difference?  How do we determine what is flowing toward evolution and what is carved into the face of the mountain?

There is nothing wrong with the great discussion.

What is the great discussion?  Who are we, why are we, where did we come from and where in the hell are we going?  Feel free to participate with gusto at will.  Just do not be so arrogant or ignorant to build a fort in any particular idea. People who think they know God’s address, telephone number and all of his personal habits are not only laughable, but potentially dangerous.

I heard a preacher the other day on television quote the great Hebrews scripture, “Jesus is the same yesterday, today and forever.”  I had to smile.  For most assuredly, the minister’s interpretation was that what Moses believed about God is still true today.  When actually, that scripture means that Jesus, who was in a constant state of learning and growing in stature and wisdom while he was mortal on this planet, was always that way and is still learning and growing and expanding today.  I cannot believe in a deity that asks me to repent at whim while maintaining a permanent residence with no revision.

So what are the absolutes in life?  What are the things that are immutable?  Do they actually exist?  Is there a compass, or is life just a boat without a rudder and an oar?

I believe there are only three absolutes in this life from which we draw all the energy for decision-making and interaction with our human fellows.

1. There are no chosen people.

There are just folks who choose to stay involved. Every time we have tried to isolate one group of people as a superior race, the result has always been destructive.

We are not chosen. We are here. Any attempt to improve our status by birth, doctrine, proclamation, skin color, national origin or sexual preference is a futile adventure in fatalism.

If you must think you’re special, be prepared to always be trumped by those with a stronger case and more militant inclinations.

2.  Any belief in a supreme being that doesn’t place human beings in a primal role is erred.

I can just hear the groans and the moans from the religiously fervent from all over the world. “He’s trying to make people God.” 

No.  I’m just trying to say that it’s impossible to reach God without respecting Bob and Sally.

There is only one absolute that comes to play in blending the supernatural and the natural.  It’s phrased in many different ways but the end conclusion is the same.

We must duplicate in other people what we want done for ourselves. 

Yes, what goes around comes around.  Any breach in this practice, or any attempt to circumvent human beings and their needs will not end in favor from either God or man.

3. We are evolving towards simplicity.

The only certainty on this planet is change. And ultimately, that change is an evolution toward simplicity. If you want to get into the flow of the cosmos, find a simpler path and a plainer, more direct way of dealing with others and the everyday things that make life tick.

Complexity is what causes the philosopher to ruminate over things that don’t really matter, the theologian to preach homilies that homogenize nothing, and the politician to pass laws that make the inevitable illegal.

• Keep it simple, stupid.
• There are no chosen people.
• And human beings must play a primal role.

You can either follow the example of the Great Compromiser, Henry Clay, and end up negotiating the destiny of men already deemed equal in a higher court of understanding, or you can abandon the foolishness of absolutes and deal with the round, rotating world.

After all, it’s the only one we know for sure that exists.

Living a Legendary Life … November 8th, 2020

Thirty, Sixty and a Hundred

The Mandeville Marauders were a baseball team.  Last season they got a new coach.

Bob Stark.

Coach Stark took over a team that was always playing .500 ball—won as many as they lost and lost as many as they won. Of course, no aspiring coach plans on maintaining such a record. The goal is to win more, to justify both his hiring and his techniques of motivating a team. Coach Stark had one simple rule:  hit home runs.

The team practiced fielding and running, but during batting practice there would be no rehearsal of the sacrificed fly or even simulation of the bunt.

Nope. Home runs. That’s what Coach Stark wanted and that’s what they practiced. Coach Stark contended that this was the way the Marauders could be pulled out of the doldrums of a mediocre season.

There was an excitement all through spring training camp. All of the players became better at hitting the long ball and at judging pitches–waiting for the right one so they could smack it out of the park.

The chatter in Mandeville was incessant. Just on the strength of word of mouth, there were more people purchasing advertisement in the program book and vendors lining up to have concession stands at the stadium.  Every one was certain that Coach Stark’s “home run philosophy” would put the Marauders in the winning column and Mandeville on the map.

The first game was against the Adamsville Athletics. The philosophy paid off.  Six of the nine batters hit a home run during the game.  Exciting—Yes, downright thrilling to see those balls flying out of the park. That’s why it was so perplexing that the Marauders lost the game—8 to 6.  The Athletics had no home runs.  But eight men had been able to cross the plate.

Coach Stark celebrated with the team the six home runs and told them, “We’ll get ‘em next time.”

Well, next time they hit five home runs—big long ones—and lost 7 to 5 to the Terrapins. Three nights later, it was another loss, 9 to 7, to the Tigers. All in all, after six games, the Marauders players had hit thirty-four home runs, a team record, and lost all six games.

Coach Stark was at his wit’s end.  After the last game, a sixth loss against the Ducks, an old man emerged from the crowd and asked Coach Stark if he could have a moment of his time. He was a small fellow, the kind that would be almost invisible even in a room occupied by three people.

He sat down with the Coach and made his case. “Coach Stark, I’ve been watching your team for the past six games. I, myself, have never played baseball, but have always enjoyed the sport, although at times I find it a bit slow and dull.”

Coach Stark frowned at the little old man, so he hurriedly continued.

“It just seems to me, Coach, that if everyone’s always hitting home runs, there’s no way to get anyone on base, so that when you actually do get a home run, you don’t just score one person, but two, three or even four. You see, that’s how they’re beating you, Coach. One of their batters may strike out, followed by another one getting a base hit, and then the guy who got the base hit runs to second base, and the next guy maybe walks. Then somebody else hits a double and then the next batter hits a double, a runner scores, and then you have two runners on second and third. So your pitcher decides to walk the next batter, loading the bases. The next batter hits a fly ball, which your fielder drops, allowing two more runners to score.”

Coach Stark was annoyed by the little, old man. “What is it you’re trying to say, fella?” he demanded.

The old man paused for a moment and then spoke slowly. “I guess what I’m trying to say is, if everybody is trying to hit home runs, there’s not enough people getting on base to make the home runs mean much.”

Coach Stark piped in. “There is nothing better than a home run.”

The old man paused and then replied. “Well, I think there is, sir. And that’s a victory caused by the whole team working together.”

As in our story, we live in a world that extols the beauty and the power of hitting the home run. Fame and fortune are portrayed as the ultimate symbols of human value. But life really doesn’t work that way. Just like in baseball, life demands that we pick up the bat and take our chances. Sometimes we strike out, sometimes it’s a base hit. Sometimes we walk. And sometimes we hit a double, a triple, or even a home run. The only difficulty comes when we don’t recognize the value of each and every maneuver.

The Marauders found out that without base hits, home runs don’t add up to victories. Without bunts and walks and stolen bases, people cannot get onto the playing field—people who add up and make a difference, and not only make the victory sweeter, but actually make the victory possible.

Sometimes opportunities come in thirties, sometimes they come in sixties and sometimes they come in hundreds.  The legendary lifer knows that three thirties nearly make a hundred, and two sixties are even more.

Where are the people writing music that may never be heard by the entire world, but relished by a regional few? Where are the politicians who do not aspire to national office, but instead, make one little town a little bit of heaven? Where are the shopkeepers that will never appear on the stock exchange, but create jobs for a selected few?

Babe Ruth was arguably the greatest baseball player of all time.  He was called the Home Run King. He also had the greatest ratio of strikeouts.

So feel free to aim for the fences every time you come to the plate, but if you want to live a full, legendary life, you are going to take your place on first base, and let another person hit you in.

The true sense of success is in the value of the journey and the creation of the miracle–by our own hands and the helping hands of others.

 

Living a Legendary Life … November 1st, 2020

Just Downstairs

Benny loved his mom.  Of course, most kids do love their moms.  But his was stronger.  Benny believed he would love his mom if she weren’t his mom, if you know what I mean.

She always was happy.  She always seemed to have a story to go along with every problem and a joke to accompany every blessing.

They lived on the third floor in the Briargate Apartments. Benny used to complain about having to climb the stairs until his mother pointed out two very important points. “It’s special, Benny, to live on the third floor! First, we get all this exercise without having to pay for a gym, and then, when we finally get to the top of the stairs, we have the most beautiful view of everything in the whole town.”

Benny had to agree, although some nights, when he was particularly tired from school, the climb did seem arduous. But his Mom was right about the view. He always felt rewarded when he arrived at the top and saw vista before him.

Mom also made a point of making sure that Benny always was aware of the needs of others.

“Just downstairs,” she would say. “We need to think about the folks.  Maybe they don’t have as much as we do.  Maybe they are hurting.  Maybe if we make a few extra biscuits, we could take a couple to them after dinner.  Because just downstairs,” she would close, “there are always people in need.”

Benny wasn’t sure he agreed.  He knew that he and his mother were fairly poor and she had a difficult time making ends meet, although you could never tell by her disposition, nor did a word of complaint ever come off her lips.

“Just downstairs,” she would say.  “Those are the people in need.”

So mostly to make his mom happy, Benny visited a little girl in the apartment on the ground floor. (He figured she must be really downstairs.) Then he toted her books to school, and paid for her lunch twice a week–and made sure that when his mother made those “extra specials” that the little girl and her family got some. The little girl was very gracious and the family was grateful for the generosity.

Benny was about eleven years old when his mother became very sick.  Once again, you could hardly tell, except that she became smaller and frail and her skin turned very white.  But she still continued to tell Benny “just downstairs there were people in greater need.”

Benny had just turned twelve years old, in the springtime, when his mother passed away.  He didn’t have any other relatives, so the family of the little girl came to see him.

They asked him if he wanted to live with them now that his mother had passed on.

Benny said, “I don’t want to be any trouble.  I know that you—well—that you don’t have much money.”

The father, surprised, looked at Benny and then laughed.  “Didn’t you know?  We own this apartment building.  So I think we can afford one more mouth to feed.”

Benny was a bit bewildered but also delighted to be part of this new family.  He wondered if his mother had known that the father of this family “just downstairs” was the landlord.

He would never know. It didn’t matter. The words and beauty of her philosophy live on.  He never forgot what his mother said.  Because no matter how low you may get in your life, there is always someone “just downstairs” from where you are.

The only way to keep gratitude fully blooming in our hearts is by returning the little bit we can to those living beneath us.

Just downstairs—another step to living a legendary life.

Living a Legendary Life … October 25th, 2020

Sitting 2

A Trio of Trouble

There is a trio of troubled troubadours who raise their ugly heads to sing off-key tunes, causing all of humanity to suffer in the listening.

They tour together. They only believe in each other, and they foster the conditions causing all the pain experienced on Planet Earth.

Pretty dramatic beginning, don’t you think?  Now that I have your attention, let me introduce these dunderheads of defeat.

Insecurity

The mother’s name is insecurity.

She hounds, pecks and nags to bring about her will. That will is very simple:  to establish the need for love rather than a love relationship.  She points out flaws and never forgives them. She discourages all attempts at improvement. She leaves her household barren of basic human confidence.

Superstition

Then she turns to her sister, superstition, to explain the rules of operation. Superstition lays the groundwork for the reasoning behind all the insecurity.  Superstition fosters the notion that there are supernatural reasons for the most natural of events. Superstition warns of dangers which are never realized and promotes prejudices for the alleged protection of all. Superstition promotes ritual over rhyme, practice over discovery and dogma over true belief.

And then, she invites the big brother to come in to seal the deal.

Arrogance

His name is arrogance.

Arrogance has an excuse for everything. Arrogance is clothed in fakery and armed with ignorance. Arrogance flexes its muscle to prove superiority.  Arrogance is the enforcer of all that makes us insecure and all that causes us to revere the superstitious.

The trio rampage through the human fold like a wolf at night, destroying all semblance of innocence and all sensation of protection. They fear no one but continue their mission of mayhem, seemingly unchecked by any mortal force.

Their only weakness is that they don’t seem to be able to function alone. When separated, the true essence of their nature shines through and exposes them.

• Insecurity is like a jealous child.
• Superstition resembles a baffled bungler of misinformation.
• And arrogance is an ignorant brute.

Fortunately for all human beings great and small, there is a threesome that counters the efforts of this diabolical trio.

Acceptance

Standing firmly and strongly in an intelligent profile against Mother Insecurity is acceptance.

Acceptance is the perfect counter against insecurity because it dismisses the notion that there is a foregone conclusion.  Acceptance accepts–first, ourselves for who we are.

Then, with a tremendous boost of confidence, acceptance allows differences in others.

Acceptance brings the productive idea that we don’t have to reinvent ourselves but instead can work with the package provided.

Logic

Logic has been summoned to counteract superstition.

Logic rarely has an opinion, but poses the well-placed question.

Logic wants to know if there is any history to the notion.

Logic desires evidence.

Logic is the element of life that has historically dismissed the errant philosophies that have brought us near the brink of destruction.  Can there be anything more god-like than the probing question that splits the darkness and demands, “Let there be light?”

Logic becomes faith when enacted by people of passion.

Humility

And finally, there is humility, which, for some odd reason, has gained a reputation for being weak. However, humility is always the profile taken by any  intelligent soul who knows there is always more to learn.

Humility feels no need to supersede the will of others, but only wishes to be a part of the whole.

As in the case of insecurity, superstition and arrogance, our three friends–acceptance, logic and humility–gain strength through one another.

Leading a legendary life is a decision to accept who we are and the identities of those around us, while logically requesting an explanation for events and humbly placing ourselves in the flow of humanity instead insisting on an arrogant seat of power above others.

Two Households

The trio of troublers: insecurity, superstition and arrogance.

The trinity of triumph: acceptance, logic and humility.

But you can be certain of this:  you will most certainly belong to one family or another.

Living a Legendary Life … October 18th, 2020

Sitting 1

Seen in Secret

It really doesn’t make any difference to me what name you use. Perhaps someday, when we cross over the vast chasm of misinformation, we will discover that there is an actual name above all other names.

But for the sake of discussion in this book, please understand I don’t really care what name or title you use.

What I’m talking about, of course, is the name we prefer for that Unseen Beyond Us That Sees All.

Call him God, Allah, Jesus, Vishnu, Mohammed, Jehovah, Enlightened One or even Larry. It makes no difference to me. Even atheism will receive no condemnation from this author.

Yet in the practical application of our everyday lives, and for the sake of pursuing the excellence of a legendary existence, it seems to me that we must acknowledge an Unseen That Sees All — even if this personage is of our own creation.

So if you will allow me in this book, I will use the name Larry.

Yes, Larry.

A Generic Deity

I know this may upset the religious soul, but my main problem with organized religion is that it worships a god who shows up for praise and worship and then disappears, leaving us, during the rest of our week, to our own devices.

The result is that some of the most avid followers occupying mosque, church, synagogue and monastery are also the greatest agnostics in the world. They have a form of godliness but deny the real power and message of a lifestyle. And here is how I describe that legendary lifestyle:

We believe in order to receive, becoming more generous to ourselves and more open to others.

Now, this should be the conclusion of a spiritual encounter. Alas (as they used to say) religion tends to be the disease infesting and infecting us.

So for the sake of this sitting, please allow me to call this unseen presence, Larry. I think it will prevent any disgruntled religious folk from feeling I expressed favoritism. And to those not inclined to any formal religion at all, it will introduce a friendly, neutral presence

Larry is of us. Larry knows how we work. He knows our drawbacks.

Our greatest weakness? Theory over substance. We prefer discussion to decision. We relish committees to commitment and favor argument to agreement. You see it in the church, in business, in politics and even in entertainment. Why is this?

Because laziness is our mooching second cousin and fussiness our adopted Jewish mother. Therefore, mulling over principle robs all the time for principled action. Political maneuvering eliminates policy change.

Larry knows our weakness. Maybe it’s a creative flaw — a design malfunction. Maybe it’s a symptom of general wear and tear. Or, more likely, it’s deterioration in our consciousness.

We have chosen repeating over repenting. Yes, repeat over repent.

After all, spirituality in theory is interesting. On the other hand, spirituality in practice is a festering reminder of our inadequacy. So it’s much easier to believe that Larry extends grace to us, cutting us slack for our shortcomings and allowing us to muddle on in our lives in some sort of bewildered dream cloud. But there is a shocker:

Larry Sees

Even in the moments when we feel like it doesn’t make any difference — those times we think that effort is anal — Larry sees.

It is important to know that we are not alone in our actions. Or perhaps better phrased, our inactions. Because most of the sins of humans are transgressions in omission instead of commission. In other words, we fail most often by delaying, not by prematurely jumping in.

We have trained ourselves to be spectators in our own lives, victims of chance and circumstance, adrift on the seas of fate. Larry disagrees.

The first step to leading a legendary life is realizing that Larry sees, Larry cares and Larry is prepared to reward those souls who dare to become intimately involved in their own lives by making quality choices.

For Larry sees in secret. And once we bring our secret life under our own review, we begin to set in motion true empowerment to garner success. And what is that success? Real success comes from deriving soul satisfaction at the end of a well-thought-out day.

Yes, Larry sees in secret. Not in order to punish, but rather, to alert and bestow benefit upon those folks who become caretakers of their own space.

But how do we override the sensation that some things just really don’t matter?

1. Slow your life down

Take the time to enjoy the time to redeem the time to have the time to create the time to make the time mean more.

And this isn’t just another “stop and smell the roses” speech. This is actively avoiding the horrendous practice of multi-tasking (which is just producing the possibility of multi-erroring) and finding out the unexplored value of the common. For instance, the grocery store is not only stocked with food, but with people, surprises, deals, samples, and conversation for those shoppers who will slow the pace down a bit and take in the whole experience.

The jobsite is not merely the joint where we pick up our paycheck, but rather, a place to rehearse excellence, interact with people who disagree and discover better use of time and energy.

Larry sees — not because he’s nosy, but because Larry knows we are better people when we do more than hit our marks but instead, pace ourselves and enjoy the journey.

2. Notice

We are a visual people needing a vision. There are others trying.

Notice them.

For instance, every morning, Larry and Nature put together a fireworks extravaganza that we glibly call “dawn.” And every night they repeat the process — dusk. Notice.

Notice one thing today that you did not notice yesterday. Then you’ll have three hundred sixty-five things in your bank of discovery at the end of the year — not to mention the interest you have earned from other folks around you.

3. Acknowledge

There are people who are trying to be involved with others by being more attentive to their own life. Acknowledge when you see them already doing what you want to do. Acknowledge courtesy. Acknowledge excellence. Acknowledge tenderness. Acknowledge awareness. Acknowledge when someone has pursued something further than expected.

There are people who have figured out that Larry is watching.

The instant we contend that there are no caring people, someone will crop up in our midst and do something really delightfully human — human in the sense of how we were intended to be. Surprise!

What is the purpose of possessing the greatest brainpower on the planet and using it to stumble through a series of repetitive chores?

What is the value of having a capacity to love at a fevered intensity and yawn our way through a bunch of boring relationships?

To live a legendary existence means we must live as if we understand that we are seen — even in our secret moments.

Larry isn’t trying to condemn us, but rather, motivate us to become keepers of our own destiny.

Larry is watching because he gives a damn–and he hopes that we can learn to feel the same way.

3 Things I Learned from Jon Cring … October 8, 2020

Jonathots Daily Blog

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Today’s “3 Things” is provided by Steve Kimbrell.

On the left in the picture above, Steve (in the red plaid shirt) is seen with Jonathan and friends in Santa Clara, California, circa 1988. On the right Steve celebrates Christmas much more recently.

Jon Cring, as I always called him, was my friend for forty years.

As friends often do, we had our ups and downs. We fought sometimes, but we made up. We agreed and disagreed.

There were times I left him, but we always found our way back to each other.

Most of the time I was there for him and he for me. He was  just a phone call  away.

He taught me numerous things.  Below are three of them:

1.  Grieving.

When I recently lost my sister and my aunt he taught me that there is no time limit on grieving. And when you can, obtain normalcy as soon as possible because that will give you strength.

2. Treat people the way you want them to treat you

3. No one is better than anyone else

As I applied these lessons to my life,  it has made living simpler and easier.

And for that I am very grateful.