You will fail sometimes. – The faster you accept this, the faster you can get on with being brilliant. You’ll never be 100% sure it will work, but you can always be 100% sure doing nothing won’t work. So get out there and do something! Either you succeed or you learn a vital lesson. Win – Win.

Right now, there’s a lot you don’t know. – The day you stop learning is the day you stop living. Embrace new information, think about it and use it to advance yourself.

There may not be a tomorrow. – Not for everyone. Right now, someone on Earth is planning something for tomorrow without realizing they’re going to die today. This is sad but true. So spend your time wisely today and pause long enough to appreciate it.

There’s a lot you can’t control. – Wasting your time, talent and emotional energy on things that are beyond your control is a recipe for frustration, misery and stagnation. Invest your energy in the things you can control.

Information is not true knowledge. – Knowledge comes from experience. You can discuss a task a hundred times, but these discussions will only give you a philosophical understanding. You must experience a task firsthand to truly know it.

You can’t be successful without providing value. – Don’t waste your time trying to be successful, spend your time creating value. When you’re valuable to the world around you, you will be successful.

Someone else will always have more than you. – Whether it’s money, friends or magic beans that you’re collecting, there will always be someone who has more than you. But remember, it’s not how many you have, it’s how passionate you are about collecting them. It’s all about the journey.

You can’t change the past. – As Maria Robinson once said, “Nobody can go back and start a new beginning, but anyone can start today and make a new ending.” You can’t change what happened, but you can change how you react to it.

The only person who can make you happy is you. – The root of your happiness comes from your relationship with yourself. Sure external entities can have fleeting effects on your mood, but in the long run nothing matters more than how you feel about who you are on the inside.

There will always be people who don’t like you. – You can’t be everything to everyone. No matter what you do, there will always be someone who thinks differently. So concentrate on doing what you know in your heart is right. What others think and say about you isn’t all that important. What is important is how you feel about yourself.

You won’t always get what you want. – As Mick Jagger once said, “You can’t always get what you want, but if you try sometimes you might find you get what you need.” Look around. Appreciate the things you have right now. Many people aren’t so lucky.

In life, you get what you put in. – If you want love, give love. If you want friends, be friendly. If you want money, provide value. It really is this simple.

Good friends will come and go. – Most of your high school friends won’t be a part of your college life. Most of your college friends won’t be a part of your 20-something professional life. Most of your 20-something friends won’t be there when your spouse and you bring your second child into the world. But some friends will stick. And it’s these friends – the ones who transcend time with you – who matter.

Doing the same exact thing every day hinders self growth. – If you keep doing what you’re doing, you’ll keep getting what you’re getting. Growth happens when you change things – when you try new things – when you stretch beyond your comfort zone.

You will never feel 100% ready for something new. – Nobody ever feels 100% ready when an opportunity arises. Because most great opportunities in life force us to grow beyond our comfort zones, which means you won’t feel totally comfortable or ready for it.

The basic foundation of humanity is compassion and love. This is why, if even a few individuals simply try to create mental peace and happiness within themselves and act responsibly and kind-heartedly towards others, they will have a positive influence in their community.

Any more I feel that mission work is more focused on evangelization, trying to eke out the maximum amount of followers with each trip. The problem with this, in my opinion, is that humanitarianism becomes only an afterthought to missionaries or is reduced to a method of promoting Christianity.

During one of my last visits to my home church, there was a presentation over the church’s recent mission to India. The climax of the presentation was the statistics slide. “With just over 30 missionaries we have converted over four thousand people to Christianity.” There was a standing ovation. However, I wasn’t so impressed. The promotion of Christ consisted of showing Indians a small box with a picture of Jesus. They introduced Him as their savior who would bring them out of the slums and make them happy. It was an appeal to their wants and needs, an appeal to their curiosity, a promise for better times if they converted. The humanitarianism consisted of setting up churches in an area hostile towards Christianity, which seemed to benefit the missionaries more than it did the locals.

For Christianity, what is in a number? Does our virtue as Christians grow as we become more plentiful? Have we made quantity synonymous with quality? I still believe that although community does us a world of good, Christianity is still an individual’s journey to find God and it’s not what we’ve done or who we’ve reached out to but who we are as Christians that denotes our virtue.

Furthermore, I have always felt that accepting Christ should be a principle of attraction rather than promotion. A person with an attraction to Christ has therefore already formed a willingness and curiosity, a personal investment to explore Christianity for him or herself. When Christianity is promoted, the idea has been planted in a person’s mind. We appeal to a person’s interests and logic as a salesman does with his pitch.

Yes, promoting Christ has quicker results but what is the lasting power of that promotion? Does it make for meaningful relationships? Or have we just hyped up Christ, instilling a heightened sense of morale and enthusiasm that may taper off as the weeks or months pass by? When we promote Christianity, the stimulus for developing a relationship with Christ lies in the promoter. When Christianity is reached through attraction, the stimulus lies within the individual.

This is the reason for the Dalai Lama’s quote. Instead of focusing on persuading others to hear the Gospel and accept Christ, I feel we should focus on being the best Christians we can possibly be. When we find our own peace of mind, it benefits not only us but those we interact with.

The reason why I am a Christian today is not because I was raised to be one. It was because I was driving a friend home when she asked me which church I went to. She didn’t delve any further than that. The truth was I didn’t call one home. In fact, I had called myself a Christian but had done everything I could to disassociate myself from other Christians. My experience with other Christians was that everything they said was scripted from the Bible but was not reflected in their own actions. The Christians that I had known were bigoted, self-righteous, and hypocritical. What my friend, Bethany, had shown me was who I wanted to be as a Christian, and she didn’t have to promote anything. She only had to be herself.

This is how I feel we should do our mission work. Our focus should be serving others and that service should be solely for the desire to help others, not to convert others. We leave the promotion of Christ to the positive influence we have on others. The best missionaries I’ve known didn’t even know they were doing mission work: Bethany and her spirit for life, my brother and how he convinced others to pray just by praying to himself each morning, Father Don and his unconditional amiability and genuineness. Christians do God’s work just by being themselves, and there is no better promotion of Christ than our own authenticity.

Altruism on principle is suicide. -Leonard Peikoff

Peikoff asserted that altruism was a primitive concept that kept men from living their lives to the fullest because they put others before themselves. Altruism was just short of suicide being a practice of “anti-egoism”, a denial of self. And how rational is a living being that denies itself to live?

This is, I feel, is objectivism going too far. There is a difference between self-sacrifice and martyrdom and I believe the former has its place. Peikoff made altruism out to be a self-defeating sentiment that yielded no return. However, I believe altruism helps a man to develop his own values. Life is not a series of causes and effects. It’s not about how much benefit our actions yield. It’s not on purely utilitarian and pragmatic terms.

Life is also didactic. We are living beings that develop physiologically, cognitively, and spiritually. When we practice altruism, yes, we do deny ourselves. From this denial we learn about moderation, about where we end and another person begins. Self-sacrifice provides us with the opportunity to reassess what is important and what is worth giving up in our lives. Upon reassessing, we begin to develop our own values, our principles that provide our lives with focus and direction. Altruism isn’t solely responsible for making us who we are, but I believe it is a key player in our development of mindful autonomy rather than mindless self indulgence.

However, I’d like to point out that self-sacrifice can get out of hand, too, using myself as an example. I’m a single father in nursing school; most of my spare time is eaten up by either studying for weekly exams and clinicals or taking care of my son four nights a week. My father, furthermore, is currently battling with cancer. My head and my heart are thoroughly fatigued. I’ve denied myself a lot, but when do I start to ask “What about me?” I would feel selfish taking time for myself when my son needs his father’s care or being happy when my dad is so sick. However, I need to set boundaries. I need to know when to assert that my life matters as well.

I think that was the main thing that Peikoff was trying to point out but he took it to the extreme, ignoring the fact that if a person was austere enough to deny his own ego he could moderate his own sacrifice as well.

“Question with boldness even the existence of God; because, if there be one, He must more approve of the homage of reason than that of blindfolded fear.”
–Thomas Jefferson

Heresy. It’s a word I wrestle with every day on my spiritual journey. Its origin comes from the Greek word αἵρεσις (haireses) which means “choice; to go one’s own way”. It is not to be confused with apostasy, a denunciation of one’s faith, or blasphemy, which is to be irreverent toward one’s own faith.

Heresy is seen negatively because one dilutes the Gospel when he applies his own opinion to it, when he goes against the dogma. However, how does one invest himself in faith if he does not question it? To question is to explore, to participate in the lessons that a faith has to offer. Without questions, religion becomes a practice of ritual and rote memory. It is merely an application of theory. To explore and confront is how we begin to apply experiences.

To clarify things, I am not proposing that we practice a “cafeteria-style” faith where we pick and choose portions of religions that appeal to us. What I am saying is that we must observe outside our faith for there are lessons there as well. These lessons help to reinforce the lessons that Christianity already teaches us.

Hinduism, Buddhism, Islam, Judaism, Atheism…we reject these faiths for fear that they will replace our own, but there would not have been concern regarding our own faith unless we were insecure in it to begin with. For this reason, I do not make this proposition lightly. We must be confident our own faith, we must be anchored in it before we step outside it.

In Sephardic Judaism, Hebrews believe themselves to be the body of G*d brought into existence but then tragically separated from the “Godhead”, which is the true and infinite existence of G*d. Hebrews seek to reunite themselves with the “Godhead”, to escape from their finite existence. In Hinduism and Buddhism there is the concept of nirvana. The state of nirvana is the state of nonexistence. It is the eradication of one’s own ego; it is when the flame of one’s individuality is snuffed out.

What do these beliefs teach me about my own faith? My ego is of my own machination, it is what I project to distinguish and separate myself from everything else. As a Christian, it is my goal to become closer to God, to become more like Jesus. However, I do not begin to become more like Him until I become less like myself, until I diminish my ego. I must give up my own demands and expectations, I must make room for a power greater than myself. A suppression of my own ego allows me to become empathetic, to be selfless, to serve others. It broadens my scope and allows me to better intuit God because I no longer look through the “lens” of my own self interests.

I have learned that Judaism, Christianity, and Islam all believe in God of Abraham. However, each differs fundamentally in doctrine and practice. Hebrews believe that G*d formed a covenant with Jacob, Abraham’s grandson. Muslims believe that the Koran is the final and complete word of God and that Muhammad is its prophet. Christians believe that Jesus is the Messiah and that he split off from Judaism because Hebrews were no longer on the right path. I have learned that men defend their respective Abrahamic faith while rejecting the other two and observed the means each would go to defend his beliefs.

I realize from this that sometimes we, as human beings, lose the sight of why we practice in order to defend our method of practice. It is ultimately our closeness with God that we should be concerned with, not with the process in which we approach Him. Faith is the means, our closeness with God is the ends.

I’ve learned that even a lack of religion has much to teach me as a Christian. Moral atheists distinguish morality from religion. Because of this they usually rate higher on the Kohlberg Moral Stages. There is no doctrine or practice that governs their practice. They do not practice altruism for hope of making it into heaven or escaping samsara and reaching nirvana. A moral atheist practices altruism for belief in universal ethics, in maintaining the dignity of human life.

What I’ve learned from this is that morality should stand on its own, not integrated into the foundation of my Christianity. My altruism then becomes a choice, not something assigned to me through faith. It will ensure that Heaven will not be the incentive for my beneficence, nor Hell the fear that prevents my maleficence. These are tools of behavioral conditioning and turn my acts of altruism to acts of enlightened self interest. When morality becomes independent of my religion, all that is left is the Gospel and my willingness to be close to God. When I am confronted by God I would like to say that I willingly came before Him, that I was not referred to Him through instruction.

These are why I propose the exploration of other world faiths. When we outright reject another religion we reject its unique perspectives. When we reject the practice of Judaism, we reject a relationship with God that predates our own, we reject its experiences of perseverance through adversity. When we reject Islam, we reject the uncontested passion for the Beloved, the unwavering dedication and loyalty. When Christianity is rejected, lessons of selflessness, sacrifice, and service are lost. Even outside of Abrahamic religion, we would lose so much. To reject Hinduism is to reject the collective wisdom of seven thousand years, the world’s oldest religion by far. To reject Buddhism is to reject the succinctness of its teachings, its ability to communicate the complexity of its wisdom in mere sentences, its simplicity and scholarly approach. To reject Atheism and its lack of religion is to reject its logic and objectivity, its moral utilitarianism and wholistic regard for human beings.

Are these thoughts heretical? If they are, let me state now that heresy is rejected because it is a means for a person to align divine doctrine with a person’s own self interests. I do not seek to fulfill any self interests nor do I seek to alter any divine doctrine. I only wish to affirm it, to strengthen my belief in it.

since feeling is first
who pays any attention
to the syntax of things
will never wholly kiss you;
wholly to be a fool
while Spring is in the world

my blood approves,
and kisses are a better fate
than wisdom
lady i swear by all flowers. Don’t cry
—the best gesture of my brain is less than
your eyelids’ flutter which says

we are for each other: then
laugh, leaning back in my arms
for life’s not a paragraph

And death i think is no parenthesis

- e.e. cummings

Rather than depression setting in immediately, I have been feeling guilty. I haven’t been able to grieve, partially because I don’t know how to and partially because I won’t allow myself to. The news came in the middle of my third semester of nursing school. The work load is at its peak right now and, having already failed once, I can’t afford to fail again. This career path is all I know, and it’s the best way I know how to provide for my son right now. I feel so horrible for being confronted with my dad’s death and the first thing my mind screams is “Not now!” I learned about it 15 minutes after I was elected to a director position for my state nursing association. Even with my anxiolytics I could barely hold it together enough during the meeting.

I also feel guilty for even considering my own misfortune when juxtaposed against my dad’s. I keep denying myself happiness, because I feel that having the freedom to live my own life is inappropriate when my father is dying. How dare I think about myself when I’m not even there for him. I’m barely home to see him, with clinicals and exams and conferences, and I know that’s partly due to my wanting to avoid the facts. I can’t afford to confront that reality just yet. I can’t lose control when there is so much on the line in my own affairs. I have to keep busy and I have to keep moving. I need to block out everything other than what’s immediately in front of me.

There is no room in my life for grief, I tell myself. Being a single father in nursing school is hard enough and now I am confronted with my father’s deteriorating health? Who is there my age that deals with that? I’m not supposed to lose my father at 23. I still need him. Hell, I’m not even supposed to be a father at this age and now I’m stretched in both directions. I don’t know how to be a father on my own. And my brother; he hasn’t even graduated high school yet. I don’t know if I’m good enough to guide him through the trials of young adulthood.

I really don’t know how to talk to my dad about that. I know he’s already realized it. I don’t even know how to confront him about his diagnosis. I don’t want to treat him like he is already dead but it is misleading and dishonest to act like there is nothing wrong. I know he’s worried about how we’re coping, but I don’t know how he’s handling it. I don’t feel he’s ready to open up to us just yet, and I don’t know how to help him because I don’t know what he knows.

My father’s diagnosis is progressing faster than I can cope with it, and it’s slowly wearing me down. All my personal growth, all my spirituality, all my intuition hasn’t prepared me for this. I need help now more than ever but my family, who is my main support group, needs to be with my father more than they need to be with me. I need help coping, but who can help me with that? Nobody can help what my father is going through, nobody can help that I’m a single father now, nobody can make my situation any easier so that I can focus and study.

The hardest part is there is nowhere to direct the blame. Instead, I blame myself. I feel like I’m being a bad son, a bad father, and a bad nurse. No matter how much I’m not there for my dad or Aiden because of school, it doesn’t show in my exam grades. As I try to trudge through day to day trying to keep afloat, I can feel myself starting to crash again. I’m becoming apathetic towards studying, I’m snapping at Aiden, my PTSD and panic disorder are resurfacing, and I’m avoiding getting close to anyone. I’m taking everything that is happening right now as my failure to keep the status quo. In reality, I have no control over any of it anyway. I am NOT in charge of the status quo. The only thing I can do in this situation is let go and let God. Somehow I forget that pretty often despite the fact that I’m praying to Him every night. I’ve gotten into the habit of letting prayer be a backup plan if I can’t resolve things on my own. Really, prayer is the only option I have.

I’ve denied myself my feelings for fear of a breakdown I couldn’t recover from in the middle of the semester. However, I think my denial of those feelings, whether they be of happiness or sorrow, will be my undoing. Postponing my own life will not guarantee the preservation of my dad’s, and I don’t think he wants me to go through that punishment. The reason why he isn’t ready to tell anybody the whole story yet is because he doesn’t want to burden us, not unlike what I’ve already been experiencing. I think once I am able to acknowledge that I have my own needs, that I need to be provided for too, I can finally move forward unburdened. God can provide for me. He can’t provide me good fortune, but he can provide me with peace of mind and thus the ability to be there for my family again.

However, this kind of love, this mutualistic bond, is not so enriching in a romantic relationship. Between adults, codependency can be toxic. It leeches the individuality out of partners; it saps their autonomy and character. But how is it that we can have an element that produces unconditional love for one person only develop neuroses in another?

Unconditionality in an adult relationship must be worked towards. We must tear down the boundaries and expectations we construct as we grow older and more mature. We must expose our vulnerabilities again, as to be that child in need, to provide that part of ourselves that can only be nurtured by our partner. It is in this vulnerability that we unearth our ambitions and passions as well.

What makes unconditionality so hard in adult relationships is that our goal of love is to be together. Our wish is to remain wed, united to our partners. When we love a son or a daughter, we are not fulfilling our need to be completed by another, but fulfilling another’s need to be independent of us. It is a scaffolding, supporting love, not a crutch that we provide to our children. I believe it is this quality of love that goes unnoticed, unappreciated. It is the facet of love that allows us to invest ourselves not in our partner but our partner’s aspirations and interests. We take our love closer to the state of unconditionality when we remove our self-interest from the equation.