Sophisticated societies aggregate upward from families to tribes, to an eventual nation state. This process is accelerated by benevolent conditions, including economic security, cultural homogeneity and peace. Catastrophic events force these aggregates to reverse themselves…there is an inevitable return to tribalism. The like-minded -in culture, religion and shared values- re-form to face dire threats. Moses, Mandela, Tecumseh faced the upward movement of the process as they tried to fashion more sophisticated aggregates. These leaders hoped for tribes to become nations with the power that a nation state could wield.

Today, our shared catastrophes have forced us into “pods” and “bubbles” and other small congregations that seem “safe.’ We have become tribes once again. Political divisions have fragmented us further-to the point where inconsistent, tribal attitudes have defeated our larger identity as Americans. We now seek solace around smaller campfires. Fancier aggregates -from the House of Representatives to the corporate “team”- offer only cold comfort. We only feel safe among the like-minded and the frequently tested.

I don’t see this as a bad thing.

My tribe is the Gang of Eight. This aggregate of four couples shares values, family lore, aspirations and historic tales of battles won and lost. I know of their children, inlaws and friends. We share the stories of the progress through life. Each couple is committed to buying a propane fire pit so we can gather in cold weather. The campfire beckons.

The movement to smaller congregations has been invariably positive as it adds depth to relationships and gives us the opportunity to explore everything from politics to spirituality. We are sustained by the group. Yes, wine helps. Tribal intoxicants appear in most tribal societies. Events have forced us to down-size our social group but it has also provided the opportunity to know one another in depth.

Gather around the fire. Share your tribal lore.

As we hoofed through the heat and sand of Death Valley National Park thoughts about endurance came seamlessly. When we think of endurance, we think of suffering and pain that abides…a longterm slog through rough terrain. More often than not it is just that. It is also true that every step in the heat- on the incline- makes us stronger than we were at the outset of the journey. Longfellow realized the dual nature of endurance when he said, “know how sublime it is to suffer and be strong.”

As we trudge, the sublimity can be found in the subtle changes that are made possible by our endurance. patience becomes resolve and strength becomes stamina. Effort, and particularly sustained effort, will transform us. As the old saw reminds us: a diamond is merely a lump of coal that did well under pressure.

Once, as I was despairing, a friend gave me excellent counsel. He reminded me that my soul was a mountain that ENDURED despite the storms of events, fears and negative emotion that passed over and around. The storm was just another weather system that passed by. Some days are bright and sunny and others not so much…yet the mountain endures. Lately, I have observed many brave souls enduring. Economic difficulty, disease, bereavement are faced by these people with sublime endurance. They are an inspiration and they increase our most treasured possession…hope.

As we hiked in the valley, I was given strength by those who hiked with me. Their example literally kept me moving. I hope we all can find our hiking companions on the tough road we face today. There will be better days.

Here’s our chance to be made into diamonds.

Two years ago I stood on the top of Mount Nebo in Jordan, the place where Moses was granted a view of the promised land that he would never enter. The Mount was ringed by the caves of centuries of eremites who came to the desert for renewal and devotion. With the election looming , my wife and a couple of our friends formed Donner party 2.0 and we headed to Death Valley to find our own retreat from the madness of the world. Some say that the ark of the Covenant is buried on Mt. Nebo but Death Valley carried no sacred objects …just vastness, heat and salt. Like Mount Nebo, the place did offer a pisgah sight of a promised land.

In the Badwater Basin we stood in the middle of a vast expanse of salt that took strange convoluted forms and the essential salts in our bodies suggested a connection to the earth that was palpable. The poet Pablo Neruda captured the feeling, ” I shivered in those solitudes when I heard the voice of the salt in the desert.” Just as the salts in our bodies enabled the transmission of nerve impulses , the mass of salt in the desert made us sensitive to many feelings and memories.

Salt suggests permanence, fidelity and purification and we were seeking those things in the midst of the storm that raged among our friends and in our country at large.

The desert salt flats will give instant perspective…a person’s relative importance is immediately right-sized by square miles of emptiness…ironically, this arid place was oceanic. In the course of a few days we wandered over sand dunes, into canyons, up to the rims of craters and onto cliffs and the salts within our cells were renewed. We had entered the world that gave the lie to our distasteful and grasping political machinations. We had found a kind of peace. Like Moses, we were allowed a glimpse into the promised land and we learned something about the human covenants that should inform our society.

The few people we ran into were strangely ready to open up and tell their stories. The desert was a place for narrative and people shared their tales with an ease that is n to available in one’s neighborhood. In minutes you knew someone because they had granted you the privilege of their openness ….

When we returned to the real world , the noise of politics drowned out the stories that promoted real connection. The State’s were counting votes. Cheating and dirty tricks were the order of the day. In our adventure we had learned a lot about geography and ourselves. Perhaps we all need a long trip to the desert so we can live the admonition that occurs in the Gospel of Mark:” have salt in yourselves and be at peace with one another. ”

After all, we are the salt of the earth.

I sat on my porch in bucolic, peaceful 7 Oaks with a cold protein drink and a low level of anxiety …until a portly septuagenarian waddled up to tell me that the Biden for President sign that was displayed in my yard contained a symbol for communism. Apparently the three red lines that represented the E in Biden’s name was the symbol of a godless collectivism that should be abhorrent to all Americans. Gosh! I didn’t know that. I was unaware that the red design elements in the Toyota logo were a veiled threat from Japanese Imperialists who planned to attack the west coast. I didn’t know that the three red lines in the State flags of Ohio and Hawaii were the subtle manifestos of states that were clearly pinko.

A quote from Lewis Carroll came to mind…” if you don’t know where you are going any road will get you there.” So many of us are angry and we have become lovers of the sinister. Everyone is out to get you and the hidden agendas of people who seem normal need to be looked at closely. We now are lovers of the conspiracy. Nothing can be trusted and Occam’s razor is so dull that it no longer cuts.

We also love conflation and we force unrelated events into weak theories that can PROVE nearly anything. We have lost our way and now live in a world of complete illogic. The Holocaust never happened and our landing on the moon was filmed on a soundstage in Hollywood. Kennedy was killed by his own brother.

We have entered into the chaos that occurs when we live in a world devoid of ideas. President James Garfield once observed that, ” ideas are the great warriors of the world and a war that has no idea behind it is simple brutality. ” So many are now fighting a war that is devoid of ideas. We are left with grievance, paranoia and downright absurdity. The Republicans have no platform because they simply don’t need one…the anger, fear and resentment are their building blocks. Sadly, these seem to be enough for some of us.

We are in love with the dark.

We need to develop a robust type of nominalism…the belief that what we see is what’s really there. When we see a misogynist, racist, mendacious Buffon angling for power it may serve us to accept the evidence of our eyes and ears.

We need to reject the brutality that comes in a world devoid of ideas.

As we VOTE let’s remember the wisdom of Sophocles: ” quick decisions are unsafe decisions. “

Be Safe and VOTE.

The other day I read in the newspaper that a significant protest was underway at the gates of Disneyland. For many, it seems, a trip to the Magic Kingdom was critically important and they passed on The Woman’s March, canvassing for voters and a host of other causes they deemed were not as important as a care free ride on the teacups. I am all for escape in hard times but I had to reflect on the infantile nature of American “culture.”

it does not take long to see how we are constantly encouraged to think and act like poorly mannered juveniles. A tsunami of disinformation and distraction coupled with our fast opinion industry makes clear that is no longer our job to think for ourselves. A talking head will tell you what you should think and how to act and the result is that many of our country fellows now think of America as a vast amusement park …a place where we are expecting to be entertained. Increasingly, it is not our job to care, to weigh alternatives and take individual action to solve social problems. We are finding it harder and harder to ask what might happen if most if us gave a damn.

This state of affairs is utopia for those who crave power. Childlike, we see immigrants not as a refreshing boost to our economy and culture but as a bunch of brats from another neighborhood that want to play with OUR toys. They want our jobs and our hospital beds and they might break a few of our cherished playthings. Racism is the height of childish thinking on a number of levels. again this requires the abandonment of adult reasoning. Some of our leaders say things that sound like, “I’m better than Them’ or ” I know you are but what am I.” It is the thinking we would expect from a 5 year old.

Let’s not forget the classic tantrum. When things do not go our way we stomp and kick and pull our hair until we get what we want. Now, in the midst of a pandemic, racial violence, economic and natural disaster we have assigned a poorly behaved child and his puerile playmates the job of making it all right.

When I read about the “Greatest Generation” almost every story has a coming of age element; a story that tells us that 18 year olds had to, “grow up in a hurry.” It is a timely story for today. We need to grow up. Part of our maturation will include a new focus on education, a willingness to listen to experts and a concern for our fellow citizens. We need to close the gates of our cultural Disneyland and decide what is truly important.

It is time to leave the nursery and go to work.

VOTE

Every now and again a trip to the desert is required. As Edward Abbey observed, “there is something intimate in the remote.” I am now preparing to spend some days in Death Valley and with characteristic irony, I am going to Death Valley for its LIFE…the richness of creosote bushes, Joshua Trees and jackrabbits. Antoine de Saint Exupery captures my mood, “I have always loved the desert. One sits down on a desert sand dune, sees nothing, hears nothing yet through the silence something throbs and gleams.” I am a big fan of both throbbing and gleaming.

I am gathering gear for the journey. Guidebooks, headlamp, sand boots, walking stick, spotting scope, all are piled at my feet. I am enjoying the place names: Ubehebe, Zabriskie, Thimble Springs and Stovepipe Wells.

Humans go to the desert for many reasons, including, atonement, rebirth, exploration and adventure. I am going for some of these reasons but the most important reason is escape. I want to leave the forces that are currently shaping our lives behind. No talking heads, no absurd politicians, no aggrieved white folks are coming with me and they will not be missed. I will substitute throbbing and gleaming for bitching and moaning. Locusts and wild honey will replace burgers and pizza. What is most important is the fact that we will miss the 2020 American Election coverage that will clog the airwaves.

I will be on Retreat. Having already voted, I do not need to be subjected to the roil of interpretation and the staccato counting of votes and electoral college delegates. I will bring my wife with me and and some friends are joining us and that will be the world for a few days. Intimate in the remote.

Of course, I can’t leave my hopes behind. I fondly hope that we will ratify the social contract we drew up in 1787. I hope there is a rebirth of the idea of the Common Wealth…of the need to give a damn about each other, John Locke, Blackstone, Montesquieu and the other authors and influencers of the early Republic might be considered again. Or not. I can only hope that we re-commit to throbbing and gleaming and leaving hate and fear behind.

I will nurse those hopes somewhere in the Badwater Basin. I hope the result will be gleaming.

VOTE

The marathon of reading that is caused by our current isolation revealed an arcane verb…to scry. To scry, is to consult a crystal ball in order to predict the future. These days prediction and probability have become industries that work hand in hand with the opinion industry that has taken the place of news reporting. We are buried in poll numbers and prognostications and we need to remind ourselves that the assessment of probability is also an assessment of the outliers and anomalies. As Aristotle reminded us, ” it is a part of probability that many improbable things will happen.” Indeed.

The crystal ball of statistical probability is opaque at best. In 1978, shortstop Bucky Dent hit a home run in a tie-breaker game against the Boston Red Sox that sent his New York Yankees to the World Series. Dent would become the MVP of the 1978 series that his heroics made possible for his team. Bucky provided an “alternative outcome” despite the weight of probability. Dent’s career featured 4,512 at bats and the modest total of 40 home runs. In addition, his lifetime batting average of .247 was not a meaningful data point ….any probability analysis would have placed Dent’s heroics at the lowest point of probability. Many improbable things can-and will-happen.

So, where are we in our ability to predict the virtually unpredictable? I remember the shock I felt when Hillary Clinton lost in 2016. Every seasoned pollster and prognosticator had Hillary winning, until she didn’t. Cheating, voter suppression etc. were factors but factors that clearly were not known or considered, Our crystal ball was ultimately useless.

In a sense all life is a probability equation as certainty -in any form- is denied to us. Christian Huygens -a Dutch physicist and mathematician- put it succinctly: ” I believe that we do not know anything for certain but everything probably.”

So where does this leave us as we all wish for certain outcomes in these political and diseased times.? Our lack of certainty is in many ways the father of hope. The hope that Bucky will come to the plate at the magical time in the magical place. It is so often the outlier-the anomaly- that saves us.

As we approach the National Election, its churn of probability and anomaly, I will simply escape. My wife and I will be off to the desert where there is no television and thus no opinion mongers or prognosticators. We will learn who won after the fact. This approach may lack courage but it does recognize our fundamental inability to know what transpires until it does. Patience and hope will see us through.

Is this a good plan?…

Probably.

In the never ending battle to evaluate, deconstruct and understand the various lies, recidivisms and mythologies that inform our lives the dual nature of our character becomes clearer. From the false idea that the Civil War was fought over ” states rights” to the ideas of American Exceptionalism to the myth of the self made man, we have been sold various bills of goods that do not stand close scrutiny. One of my favorite falsehoods is the idea that we should be ambitious. We are programmed to value power, wealth, fame and honor as though the attainment of these things is always a valid goal.

Ambition is a curious thing among a storm of curiosities. The poet Maya Angelou give a good insight into the actual value of ambition:” the desire to reach for the stars is ambitious. The desire to reach hearts is wise.”

For thousands of years ambition has been the highway to tragedy. Ceasar’s quest for power, wealth and honor leads to multiple perforations and the myth of Deadalus and Icarus leads to a deadly crash. I think I agree with Abraham Lincoln who said, “I’d rather be a little nobody, than to be an evil somebody.” All around us we see the horrible aftereffects of ambition that lacks humanity. We have a rage to DO and ACHIEVE that is not tempered by common sense. Our lack of perspective on the entire idea of striving can lead us to the ultimate irony that is a wasted life.

The need to accumulate wealth, for the sake of wealth reveals much about character. The aggrandizement of riches -as an end in itself- was understood from ancient times to be the height of stupidity. Aristotle commented that, ” the truth is that men’s ambition and the desire to make money are among the the most frequent causes of deliberate acts of injustice.” Wars, destructive political campaigns, bilking pastors and the ugliness of mindless capitalism are well known to us as we see the actions of people who never have enough.

Honor is a moveable feast. Those qualities that lead to fame today might kill us tomorrow. We may not be stabbed to death in the roman senate but the praise we hear today can morph in an instant into disgust and murderous rage. All glory is fleeting.

Power can easily destroy the person who wields it. We know the stories of the mighty Seventh Cavalry or the arrogance of the Pharaohs …the deadliness of the hubristic overreach.

I am aware that humans are above all, strivers. Ambition that works always has a solid foundation in humanity; the search for the cure, the beauty of altruism and other centeredness are forms of ambition that actually work. Death will sort this out for us. Is there anything you can, “take with you?” Power, fame, wealth and honor will be buried with you but your true legacy will be measured in kindnesses, selfless acts and in your manifested desire to reach hearts.

I can no longer accept the virtues of ambition at face value. Gravestones never say He Was Number One On The Fortune 500 but they often say Loving Father, Beloved Friend, Dear Mother. We need to understand our personal ambitions and assess if the game we are playing is actually worth the candle. Be missed when you are gone because you meant something to somebody. Other forms of ambition are simply pitiful.

Strive to reach hearts and you will be wise.

Well-to-do Elizabethans often set aside a space in their dwellings for a Wonder Cabinet. This space could be as large as a great hall or as small as a laptop casket. It was in this space that amazing – even incredible – objects were displayed. The relics, talismans and oddities served to remind the owner of the world’s mysteries and their unique personal relationship to them. Today these bauble bunkers are often called man caves or she-sheds. The Elizabethan collection of monkey feet, snakes eating their tails and stones that looked like King Henry has morphed into the collection of signed baseballs, beer signs, porcelain dolls and collector spoons but the idea is the same…we all love our “STUFF.”

One wonders what objects adorn the wonder cabinet that exists between our ears. Our experiences and our dreams are displayed here and they are essential to our happiness and our self image. Our traumas are stored there, next to our loves, victories and losses. Our current situation seems to have crowded many images of tragedy, mis-conduct and destruction into our space…a space we reserved for wonderful things. It is time to dust and rearrange the stuff we have loaded into our heads.

An inventory of my stuff produces a startling result. I find myself rooting for the immediate death of certain people and for the destruction of entire political systems. This is not healthy or welcome in the space I should be reserving for the amazing, positive relics of my life. The birth of my children, my wife’s smile …these should leave no room for any negative nonsense.

It’s not of my choosing, the aggrandizement of negative relics is encouraged every day. Horrible political actions and the fevered coverage of those crimes crowd out the space between my ears to the point that there is little room for sunsets, grandkids, adventures and joys that would otherwise be on display in the sacred space.

If your wonder cabinet is no longer containing only wonders, I am in no position to judge you but I do commiserate. Perhaps the needed purge of negatives must start with a renewed focus on family, fun and your fellow man.

It’s high time to redecorate.

Be strong in these difficult times and place only the finest items between your ears. Then, you can really love your stuff.

In my college years I would take just about any job to pay my rent and tuition. I insulated the crawl spaces of houses, forked cans of peas onto pallets at a pea cannery and shoveled green chicken manure. I learned a life lesson when I worked for a ragtag wood company that sold Douglas fir by the cord…cut , split and stacked. We would locate a slash pile and slowly take it apart with peevees and chain saws. Some of these tangles could exceed 20 feet in height. Whether the pile was at a construction site or on forest service land…it was back breaking work.

On one particular day we stood at the base of a slash pile that seemed impossibly high and gnarly and my foreman decided to give us a pep talk. He said, ” boys we are going to climb this shit pile and take it apart. Now, there are two kinds of people: 1) the guy who says get up there and take that hill. Send me a report when you’re done. These are MANAGERS. 2) the guy who says take a good look at my ass …you’ll see it all the way up the hill. These are LEADERS.” I am a leader… let’s go.”

This was a lesson I will never forget, a lesson about how to gain a person’ trust.

Later, the foreman told me that he first heard that speech in the Central Highlands of Vietnam at the start of a particularly crappy mission on a hill much more dangerous than any slash pile. I was glad to hear it, too because it made me think about the nature of trust ; what is it? how do you earn it? and how important is it? Now, with many more experiences under my belt, I think I have answers to these questions.

Trust is-simply- the foundational principle of all human interaction. It is the basic building block of civilization that makes all human progress possible. On the most mundane level , imagine what would happen if trust was removed. We trust the grocer to sell food that is not poisonous, we trust the doctor not to willfully harm us and we even trust that a cashier will try to give us the correct change. Without trust, life as we know it would be impossible.

We trust our children to providers of child care and education. We trust our money to bankers we may never have met personally…because of mutually agreed upon behaviors, we can build a future, enjoy a safe present and dream of better things. We gain trust over time. Trust requires a long visit to a land called INTEGRITY. Integrity is a journey and not a destination. We trust those who repeatedly react in principled ways to life’s challenges. As we view the consistent excellent behavior of a person we begin to believe in them. These persons are always armed with grit and ” the facts of the matter at hand.” They know the road and they walk it with grace.

Historian Timothy Snyder reminds us that “without truth there can be no trust” and trustworthy folks will consistently present the facts of a situation. Leaders are pathfinders and they mark the way with facts. If they do not clearly mark our path we will be prone to dangerous missteps and exhausted with wasted effort. They are people who have made the journey before and know the road. They build confidence and the certainty that we will achieve our goals. On the other hand, the lack of facts creates the perfect environment for our exploitation because we are quickly in a state of disorientation and despair. We can not mark our passing or see our goals. Megalomaniacs and power addicts will always war on the factual because the state of despair motivates us to grasp at leadership…good or bad.In a state of heightened anxiety, we forget to apply the integrity test. Any leadership looks like salvation. We want to be led and the false leader is always ready to accommodate …”only I can fix it.” If we are made desperate enough, even a cult looks good. The state of chaos is the sociopath’s playground.

Now, decision time is upon us and we need our trails marked by a leader with integrity and guts. Someone who has earned our trust by repeatedly scaling the dangerous slash piles of modern life. We need someone who has earned our trust by marking our path with the directional signage of factual communication. Good leadership creates hope, opportunity and belief that goals are attainable. We must choose someone who is trustworthy.

November 3rd looms.

I hope we remember the words of H.L. Mencken:” it is mutual trust , even more that mutual interest, that holds human associations together.” Let’s elect someone we can believe in.