Messy v Clean

Where no oxen are, the trough is clean; but much increase comes by the strength of an ox.  

--Proverbs 14.4 

So the Fidel Castro mini-me (Raul) decided to “permit” a small amount of entrepreneurialism in Cuba but quickly jumped in to “restore order” because the guys were branching out and producing in ways and places they weren’t supposed to.  Statists just hate the messiness of free markets where people think that they know best regarding how to get what they want with what they’ve got. And it galls them, when it comes to the marketplace, that freedom loving people see the State pretty much as a cop walking a beat to keep force and fraud out of the neighborhood. Silly people.

The Statist’s idea of how the marketplace should operate is where everyone proceeds along at the proper pace, earning a proper wage, making the proper purchase from the proper vendor at the proper price. The problem with all of this properness, however, is that throughout history it inevitably has led to empty troughs.

The “Ox” of freedom produces a lot of caca. Whether it’s in markets, the Public Square, or relationships, freedom is always messy. The freedom to succeed brings with it the freedom to make a mess of things, to err in judgment, and to fail. The alternative to the messiness of a free market is State control … and empty troughs.

Freedom also weighs a ton. All the responsibility for filling your trough is on you. There is no unalienable right to success and happiness: only the right to pursue them, as you deem best.  With the weight of responsibility firmly in place, the individual quickly learns that filling his trough will require self-motivation and self-government. Some people, however, don’t like mixing it up in the messy marketplace, and definitely do not want a ton of responsibility placed on their shoulders, so find that their troughs remain fairly empty. Rather than allowing this to motivate and educate these people, the State is called in to do-something-about-this: which it gladly does, of course.

“I’ll clean up the mess and will slaughter other people’s oxen and feed you.”

What it is actually doing, however, is taking away much of our freedom and replacing the weight of self-responsibility with the restrictive burdens of State control. Now the only people with full troughs are those in the upper echelons of the State and those corporations that make unethical side deals with it: deals unavailable to the self-employed and to small businesses. The result: an ever-increasing amount of empty troughs.

Copyright, Monte E Wilson, 2014

Believing in Your Vision

You can always tell who believes in his vision and who merely hopes it may take place one day by the nature of the risks the individual is willing to take.  It should be no shock to discover that when Bill Gates (the founder of Microsoft and one of the wealthiest people in the world) was a young boy, his favorite game was “Risk.”  Whether it is the risk of political stature and cachet in speaking the truth as you see it (Churchill) or the financial risk of leaving your cushy, prestigious career as a University professor, buying up a trunk load of your recently published book (the one that the publisher told you would only sell a few thousand copies) and going to scores of interviews in small town radio stations across the USA—and at the end of the year having a best seller and making more money in one year than you had in the previous thirty-six years (Wayne Dyer, Your Erroneous Zones), the belief in the vision is verified by the risks you are willing to take.

Visions are not realized by playing it safe.  Camelot would never have been built if Arthur was not willing to risk his life in battle.  Furthermore, he would never have engaged in those battles, if he did not believe in himself and his vision.

Abraham would never have arrived in the Promised Land if he had refused to leave his family and country for a far off destination, even though he did not know, at first, where he was going.  Without believing in his vision and his ability to attain that vision, of course, he would never have even considered the risks involved.

Joseph would never have become second-in-command of all Egypt had he not risked “being wrong” regarding the interpretation of Pharaoh’s dream.  He took the risk because he had a vision years earlier that had set him upon his quest.  His faith in the God of that vision gave him the courage to take the risk.

We not only see the legends’ beliefs born out in the leaps of faith that they take in pursuing the fulfillment of their vision, we also see it demonstrated in their laser-like focus on the vision.  Everything about their lives declares, This One Thing I Do.

Management guru Peter Drucker said, “Whenever anything is being accomplished, it is being done, I have learned, by a monomaniac with a mission.”  A monomaniac is someone with a single idea.  In this context, the single idea is your vision.  Of course, this does not mean that you won’t have a multiplicity of concerns and avenues for fulfilling your vision, only that there is a unifying principle at the heart of most all of what you are doing.

You won’t find Legendary Leaders often reacting to circumstances or being led around by some Focus Group.  They also don’t waste a lot of time and energy on fighting and arguing with those who disagree with their vision.  I am not saying that they do not seek to persuade others, only that when they do, it is part of a proactive strategy rather than a mere distraction.

Early on, one of the major errors I made as I went on my quest was to spend so much time seeking to show others how “wrong” their quests were.  As I look back on this, it all looks so silly and childish. Part of this was youthful arrogance and another part of it was insecurity, as I foolishly believed that for my quest to be True, everyone else needed to agree with and adopt the path I had chosen. What a huge distraction and waste of energy that was, and it was all caused by the weakness of my belief in my vision and myself.

The vision consumes the legend-in-the-making.  Living on the razor’s edge between disaster and miracle—which is where most visionaries reside--the visionary cannot afford to take his eyes off of the moment in which he is living.  Believing as he does provides him with blinders to anything and anyone who would distract from his quest.

An excerpt from my book, Legendary Leadership

Copyright, Monte E Wilson, 2009

Sometimes Healing is Not For Our Best

Captain Kirk: Dammit, Bones, you're a doctor. You know that pain and guilt can't be taken away with the wave of a magic wand. They're things we carry with us, the things that make us who we are ... If we lose them, we lose ourselves. I don't want my pain taken away. I need my pain. (Can’t you just hear Shatner saying this in his famous, over the top, staccato style?)  -- From, Star Trek V: The Final Frontier

Like most of you, I have had my share of titanic spiritual and psychological struggles. Some of these battles left scars, and some of them left me with open wounds that I feel to this day. I have begged God for healing, pleaded, and even tried bargaining, but I never had anything He needed. (Go figure.) Add my unwanted personality quirk/weakness of being extremely sensitive, say, to living with melancholy or depression, and … O my. “What’s up with this, Lord? Can I get a little relief, here?”

God: No.

Monte: Can you at least give me a, ‘Not yet’?

Along the way I have learned some things about living with internal battles, weaknesses, and wounds.

To start with, I discovered that many of my weaknesses and unwanted personality traits were part and parcel with my strengths so that if I seek to rid myself of them, I would end up restricting what I do best. Subsequently, I no longer see, say, melancholy as an enemy that must be defeated but, rather, as a sparing partner who is forcing me deeper into my soul, as well as to rely more completely upon the God of grace and love. And this led me to another realization.

Sometimes, healing is not for our best. Sometimes Jacob is going to live out his days with a limp and Paul is going to keep whatever that “thorn” was in his side. Sometimes the malady is our chief source of wisdom, humility, and many of our most valued strengths. Kirk was right. In some cases, if we lose the pain, we lose part of our selves.

If you came to me today and told me that you could make it so that all my wounds would be healed, cause my melancholy and depression to vanish forever, and free me from my unwanted personality traits, but that, in return for my deliverance, I had to give up all the good and all the graces that have come to me through these struggles, I would choose to retain these weaknesses and maladies. Through my struggles, my soul has grown with a greater awareness of and empathy for the pain and struggle of others, a keener understanding of my strengths and limitations, the value of sharing souls with a cherished friend, and the joy of serving and caring for others. So. No deal. No thank-you.

I am not advocating masochism. I am simply suggesting there are sometimes larger issues at stake, so I need to be careful about wanting to be delivered where God wants me to be transformed.

John Adams and Abraham Lincoln suffered with melancholy and depression, as did Winston Churchill: would they have been the men they were, achieved the heights of successes that they did, had they been “healed”? Would Psalm 42, or CS Lewis’ “A Grief Observed,” or the homilies and poetry of John Donne been written had these men not wrestled with despair? The great American Industrialist John D. Rockefeller suffered with depression: what about his accomplishments without the soul created by his suffering? My experience says, no, they would not have had the successes they achieved without having the internal battles they waged.

Something else I have learned about living with such battles:

Everybody has been shot.

Do you remember this scene from the movie Black Hawk Down, the story of the Battle of Mogadishu in 1993 (the locals call it the Day of the Rangers), when our troops were ambushed while seeking to capture a Somali warlord? This exchange takes place in the middle of a firefight.

McKnight (Tom Sizemore): You, get up there and drive!

Othic (Kent Linville): But I’m shot Colonel!

McKnight: Everybody’s shot!

Most people have been shot at least once or twice. Wounds, issues, and struggles can easily make us self-centered. You’re not the only one dealing with such things, so watch out for the attitude my-pain-sets-me-apart as someone who warrants a pass on caring for others or treating people with dignity, grace, and love, or ceasing to be and do all that God has called you to.

While I am mindful of the reality that some people’s wounds require them to get off the firing line and into a hospital, most of us need to saddle up and do what is required. After all, that never ending internal battle, those wounds, and your “weaknesses” have actually given you strengths, wisdom, and graces that your fellow-knights desperately need for waging their battles. Anyway, it is amazing how much the pain often subsides when you are serving others and fighting for a cause greater than yourself.

Copyright, Monte E Wilson, 2013

Grateful

Feeling gratitude and not expressing it

is like wrapping a present and not giving it.

--William Arthur Ward

For God, Family and Friends …

I am grateful for God’s love, goodness, grace, and mercy

I am grateful for parents who always believed in me

I am grateful for my five children whose love has kept me going more times than they will ever know

I am grateful for my sister and two brothers and the zillions of memories I have of them that always puts a smile on my face

I am grateful for my close friends with whom we share our lives and souls, and, for how they each have always made our relationships a priority

For This Great Nation …

I am grateful to our Forefathers for their wisdom, genius, and bravery, and for their having crafted the Constitution that make this a most exceptional nation

I am grateful for and in awe of the men and women of our military who are willing to lay down their lives for our freedoms

For God’s Beauty Reflected in Creation and Art …

I am grateful for having been able to travel around God’s magnificent world, multiple times

I am grateful for Michelangelo, Bach, and Beethoven; for Arthurian Legends, Shakespeare, and Arthur Conan Doyle; and for Louis Armstrong, Miles Davis, and the Beatles

For All That I So Easily and Regrettably Take For Granted …

I am grateful for electricity, air-conditioning, modern medicine, and hot showers

I am grateful for all the men and women who provide the food I eat each day

I am grateful for computers and reading tablets, and for smart-phones and iPods

For Quests and For Knights of God …

I am grateful for “impossible” quests and battles

I am grateful for each of my victorious quests, as well as for all that I have learned from my failures

I am grateful for Fellow Knights of God who stand tall when it matters most, who get back into the fray after being singed by a dragon, and who will stare down a Morgan Le Fey knowing that, without God’s favor and protection, she will flash-freeze their souls

I am grateful for heroes who show us we can be and do more

For Simple Yet Profound Blessings …

I am grateful for Single Malt Scotch and great cigars, for plump turkeys and mashed potatoes with “way too much” butter, and for being able to enjoy these blessings with people I love and cherish

Copyright, Monte E Wilson, 2013

A Warrior's Code

A perfect description of chivalrous behavior is found in Malory’s Le Morte D’Arthur where Sir Ector describes Lancelot, who has just died, as “a man meek in the hall with women and as the sternest of knights in battle.”  He was both humble and fierce—and he knew when to be which.  Blending and integrating strength and honor, a warrior’s spirit with humility, was the Code that governed the Knight’s behavior on the battlefield and “in the hall with women.”

--From my book, Legendary Leadership

When I was in Junior High school, if two boys got into a fight, they’d be sent to Coach Reams who would lay down a mat, put 16 oz gloves on them and tell them to have at it. After around 3 minutes, the boys found it difficult to even raise their hands above their waists. And, wouldn’t you know it, after knocking each other around for a few minutes, they always became fast friends. This was how we handled “conflict resolution,” back in the day. Today, such boys would be force fed Adderall.

My dad, a Baptist minister, told me if some asinine imbecile (one of his favorite phrases) started bullying and taunting me, I was to wait for him after school, walk up to him and demand he back off. If he chose to keep at it, I was to hit him as hard as I could in the solar plexus, then a forearm to the nose—and he would stand with me, if I got into trouble. “Even if you get your butt kicked, you will keep your self-respect and earn the respect of others. If you start a fight, you’ll answer to me. If some guy starts a fight with you and you don’t fight back, you will also answer to me.” The second, “you’ll answer to me,” sounded more ominous than the prospect of being whacked upside the head in a fight. Dad was true to his word and always backed me up.  

Most of the guys I grew up with were budding young warriors who needed to be taught how to be “meek in the Hall.” Today, however, it seems to me that many “boys” need to learn how to be warriors. Even their “meekness” or “humility” is actually a mask hiding a plethora of fears: fear of inadequacy, fear of the politically-correct police and the opinion of others in general, fear of getting their noses bloodied, fear of failure, and fear of taking a stand, alone. I find myself constantly wanting to grab these “boys” by the shoulders and yell at them: MAN UP!  

Our nation is engaged in life-and-death battles over cultural issues that are evidences of deeper spiritual conflicts. Our enemies are fighting to win—that’s what true warriors do. These battles in the Arena of Ideas and Ideals are not going to be won by men and women who think meekness requires that they compromise their beliefs, principles, values, and honor, and surrender the Arena to the enemy. The US Marine motto “Semper Fidelis,” (Always Faithful) is the mindset that leads to victory, not “Please, like me.”

Meekness is a warrior’s spirit governed and informed by love for God and humility before Him. Moses was referred to as the meekest man on earth. Do you think an invertebrate could have led over one million Israelites (600,000 men) across the desert to the Promise Land, a 40-year journey? And never forget that “meek and mild” Jesus took up a whip and chased the moneychangers out of the Temple who were taking advantage of foreigners who had come to worship and, thereby, desecrating his Father’s house.   

CS Lewis wrote about the need for integrating a warrior’s spirit with meekness in his essay, The Necessity of Chivalry:

(The Arthurian Knight’s Code of Chivalry) It taught humility and forbearance to the great warrior because everyone knew by experience how much he usually needed that lesson. It demanded valor of the urbane and modest man because everyone knew that he was likely to be a milksop.

If we cannot produce Lancelots, humanity falls into two sections—those who can deal in blood and iron but cannot be “meek in hall,” and those who are “meek in hall” but useless in battle…. The man who combines both characters—the knight—is a work not of nature but of art; of that art which has human beings, instead of canvas or marble, for its medium.

“Warrior” is to be part of your life’s work of art. Evil in every form is to be resisted and engaged in battle, with victory, no matter how long it takes, the only acceptable outcome. Cruelty is not to be treated as a trifle. People in distress are to be defended and comforted. Bullies are to be confronted. Liberty, Justice, Truth, Goodness, and Beauty are to be defended and honored. And none of this is to be done with a view to self-aggrandizement. This is the Code of Chivalry of any God honoring and self-respecting person worthy of sitting at the King of the Universe’s Round Table. 

Copyright, Monte E Wilson, 2013

Tell Me a Story

When I was in my late teens, I wanted answers and I wanted them now. Who is God? How do I know that I know? Why am I here? Does history have a point, a purpose? What does it mean to be fully human? What is the nature of Truth, Goodness, and Beauty? Why is there so much evil and tragedy in the world? What’s it all about, Alfie?

The problem I kept running into on my quest-ioning was that every time I worked out a proposition or syllogism that would explain the Truth of my answers to any of these questions, I was always left with the awareness that there were mysteries that were still unanswered and unfathomable. Now that I am, let’s just say, no longer in my teens, I see that Truth – like God -- cannot be placed in a box, all tied off with a pretty ribbon. To put it another way, we may increase in understanding, but we will never fully understand, as there is always more to know and to see. Which is why I am now quite distrustful of pat answers, pretty boxes, and propositions masquerading as Final Answers.  

Garrison Keillor wrote that, when you get old, you realize there are no answers, just stories.  Think about that for a moment. Now, think about the Bible. Is it filled with propositions and syllogisms … or with stories? God’s stories give us a framework within which we know the Truth is over here, not over there. Goodness acts like this person; evil acts like that person. God’s love and grace is not so much explained as it is demonstrated in the person of Jesus Christ and God's involvement in the stories of the people in the Bible. And the thing about a great story is that, as we grow and mature, we come back to them and see even more than we did when we read them the last time.

I wonder sometimes if this is why so many Christians are such poor communicators, when it comes to sharing their faith. When people are struggling or in pain or wondering where God is while their lives are in chaos, they don’t want a doctrine thrown in their face, a ready made “answer” for all that ails them: they need to hear a story – His story and yours. 

Copyright, Monte E Wilson, 2013

Happiness: Life With A Happy Face or A Life Well Lived

One of the things that separate us humans from animals is the pursuit of a meaningful life. All too often, however, we choose to be like animals in solely pursuing pleasure and happiness, and avoiding pain at all costs, with no thought of adding more meaning to our existence. We have a choice to make and it is an either/or equation: we can choose a life of happiness, as most people define that word, of we can choose to pursue a meaningful life, but we can’t have both. 

By pursuing a meaningful life, I am referring to seeking to become all that God created you to become, to living a life in service to others and contribution to the world around you. I am not suggesting that such people never experience happiness, only that it is less frequent. Or so it seems to me.

People who pursue the Happy Life don’t give a lot of thought to the transcendent and so aren’t all that into sacrifice, service, and contribution. Life is all about me: my needs and my desires. The idea of a Transcendent God with claims upon the people He created is NOT a happy idea. “You want me to what? Uh, I don’t think so.”  

Happy People don’t spend much time thinking of the past or the future: only this moment in time. For people seeking a meaningful life, however, their pasts are always being mined for wisdom, their present is the anvil upon which they are hammering out the self they are to become, and their futures are filled with possibilities for more sacrifice and service. This is fulfilling and meaningful, for sure, but not always all that much fun.

There are days when I wish I could forget about meaningfulness, about quests to becoming all God intended and to giving my life in service to a cause that transcends my existence. Some days a life lived on the surface is appealing: just turn the brain off and hang a sign on the closed door to my soul that says, Gone Fishing. When I try to do this, however, I find that merely existing is far less interesting than truly living. As I have a very low threshold for boredom, and an abiding awareness that I am going to stand before my Creator and have to answer the question, “What did you do with all that I gave you, for my sake and for love’s sake?” before I know it, I am off on a new quest.

Happiness as a Life Well Lived

When our nation’s Founding Fathers pledged their lives, fortunes, and sacred honor to securing our unalienable rights to Life, Liberty, and the pursuit of Happiness, they were not thinking about our right to party-down. For these men, “happiness” referred to the good life, to a life well lived.  Most people today don’t think in such terms, but, rather, only think of “happiness” as surviving and finding as many opportunities as possible to put on a happy face. Of course, they have a “right” to do this. However, when you are at the end of your days, is this the life you want to look back on? Is this a life that when presented to God you will hear, “Well done, good and faithful servant”?

You are not an accident. You are here on purpose, for a purpose. You have a mission, a divine assignment that you were given to accomplish. In order to pursue this unique mission you will need to become the individual who is fit for this task. This is the focus of the person who is intent upon having a meaningful life. For this person, the greatest happiness he can achieve in life is toward the end of his journey when he will look back and see how all the hard work and sacrifice that went into becoming and doing all God intended was used for his good and the well-being of others.

Copyright, Monte E Wilson, 2013