We often hear talk of the morning person: the person who bounds out of bed at 6 o’clock, just as light cracks the dawn, and expresses a great elation at the world: “What a wonderful day.” Gandhi tells us that each night we die and each new day we are reborn.
Little, however, is made of the person who grudgingly stumbles into another day with a disdain for the morning and for the reality of being alive: the early-morning grouch. The perennial question is how do we turn this tragic soul into one filled with excitement and passion for another glimpse at life? The sad reality is that we can’t. The self is the chauffeur of the being. If you refuse to accept that you do not have to be embittered at another morning, then you are cursed to adopt the most puerile of behaviors: the biggest damnation and, conversely, the biggest gift is to be you.
Consumption: when I first left school I desperately needed a job—any job: my wife was pregnant with our first son. I have always maintained that we create our own luck and in this particular time of my life, this was certainly true. Long before the Internet, if you wanted a position you had to “pound the pavement.” This literally meant that you had to take your résumé and knock on the doors of your prospective employer. Additionally, I was formally educated as a philosopher and that gave an additional impediment to true employment.
I was finally offered a job with a newspaper company. Curiously, my philosophical studies were an asset, the classical Socratic questioning of “why,” of course, always serves to “secure the sale”: why not buy?
My favorite story is predicated on youthful exuberance and masculine arrogance. After two years of learning the intricacies of “the business,” I was given a sales territory. Inside my region was a new supermarket that was not yet quite finished. The sales manager held this out as a special plum: “Secure this account and you will be assured of a good income” (Our salary was formed from a combination of a small wage and a commission on the level of advertising that we sold: the more accounts you “closed,” the more income you made). Everyone tried to secure a regular, weekly advertising account and therefore a continuous stream of money.
I followed the final phases of the construction like a mother hen nurturing its young. I made a point of driving by the site every day on my way home. As soon as the parking lot was finished, I stopped my car and strode across the space and through the edifices gargantuan front doors. They opened with a sound that evoked thunder: what financial success awaited me!
“May I speak with the manager, please?” In due course, a man appeared not much older than me. “Are you the store manager?” I inquired. “Yes, I am.” Ah—the golden goose. (1) For the next six months, I appeared at the store on a weekly basis. I got permission to buy the superintendent lunch, a strong indication of how important the store was to our company’s revenue. After a period of “relationship building,” I began to present our firm’s advantages: we published on a weekly basis; our advertising rates were cheaper than the daily newspaper: our service was more attentive and thus superior, etc., etc.
Many months later, the manager was still not buying: why not? “Sam, don’t you think that it is time to try our firm’s program for several weeks to see its efficacy?” “I’m sorry Leon but I don’t make the advertising purchases. They are made by my brother, Gordon!” “What: why didn’t you tell me?” And the stunning riposte, “You never asked.” Words from my training rang in my ears: “Always qualify the buyer.” In other words, you must find out who is the real buyer and Sam was not it. A huge period of time had been lost.
This became a metaphor for my life: don’t waste your time; it is the only gift that is irreplaceable. The great storyteller Dr. Seuss (1904-1991) leaves us with a thought: How did it get so late so soon? It’s night before it’s afternoon. December is here before its June: my goodness how the time has flewn. How did it get so late so soon? (Parts of this article were first published in October 2013)
A closing thought: Again, we return to the concept of time. Time itself doesn’t exist, (2) we, therefore, must give it value. It runs through our fingers like gold far too quickly unless we entrap it and give the “now” its worth. We are fortunate because each of us can do this if we so desire: we have this power, we possess this freedom.
To sum up: This week, we spoke about being joyous each and every day. This is not meant to be naïve. Problems do exist: everything, however, has a conclusion. It is one’s attitude that produces “joie de vivre.”
Just for fun – The Rolling Stones
A philosophical question: Why cannot we achieve the peace of our pets? They just love unconditionally, don’t they – with no question?
This week on your thoughtful walk, please ponder the great life that you live, or should live.
Every day look for something magical and beautiful.
Quote: Each of us is presented with a unique life. Many, however, wait far too long to find their reality, to find what actualizes them. Don’t be a fool: act when time is still on your side. Osho tells us that life responds to those who act.
Footnotes:
- The Golden Goose is a fairy tale collected by the Brothers Grimm (Tale 64): The Brothers Grimm [Jacob (1785–1863) and Wilhelm Grimm (1786–1859)] were German academics, linguists, cultural researchers, lexicographers and authors who together collected and published folklore.
- Albert Einstein and the Fabric of Time