Wealth, Power, and Ownership: A few observations

Wen I was a child, I used to daydream about being rich and powerful, but my ideas of wealth and power had many shortcomings. I thought that the key to wealth, power, and ownership was money. That idea was incomplete. Money is a part of wealth, can yield power, and can facilitate ownership.  Nonetheless, you can have a lot of money and still be functionally poor.

It seems to me now that the essence of wealth is the ability to make one's own decisions. The essence of power is the ability to make other people's decisions. The essence of ownership is the ability to do what you want with what you own.

Thus, if someone has lots of money but is unable to make their own decisions, they cannot be said to be very wealthy. Another person with less money, but with the ability to make their own decisions, would be functionally wealthier. From this I conclude that the discipline of wise decision-making is more important than money. In this way, a wise person is wealthier than a rich person.

Similarly, if power is the ability to make other people's decisions, then I conclude that the discernment and perception that give rise to wise advice are more important then the ability to coerce people. When people seek your advice, it is as if they willingly become your subjects, and your power is more secure than that of someone who rules by coercion. In this way, a wise person is more powerful than a dictator.

Finally, if ownership is the ability to do what one wants with what one has, then there is a physical limit to what one can functionally own. Our capacity for functional ownership is limited by our capacity to act. Thus, I conclude that it is better to limit your possessions to what you need to own in order to do what you ought to do. Any more than this, and the time wasted maintaining your excess possessions would detract from the time you would have spent carrying out meaningful actions with your essential possessions. Ironically, owning too much reduces the account that you can functionally own.  Extra possessions own their possessor. Thus, rather than scheming how to get more possessions, you should think first of your goals, and then select only the possessions you need in order to accomplish those goals. In this way, a wise person with only a few possessions functionally owns more than a packrat with many possessions.

The person who walks in wisdom enjoys the essence of wealth, power, and ownership, even though he might be financially destitute and politically oppressed. His wealth, power, and ownership aren't tied to his transient circumstances, but instead consist of stewardship of whatever those circumstances might be.

Autonomy and Accountability: Two sides of the same coin

 In the workplace, many desire autonomy: the ability to determine the way in which one goes about one's work.  At the same time, many complain about being held accountable to meet defined metrics, as though they were being micromanaged or disrespected.

Autonomy in the workforce is never absolute: it is always bounded.  Autonomy means that you can determine how best to go about meeting your metrics. Even self-employed freelancers are not absolutely autonomous; they are bounded by the expectations of their customers, and if they don't meet those expectations, they don't get paid. 

Successfully autonomous people accomplish what they are accountable for.  Their accountability doesn't detract from their autonomy; it demonstrates that they can successfully handle autonomy. 

By the same token, authentic accountability implies autonomy; if you are accountable to accomplish something, that implies that you have leeway to determine how best to accomplish it.  If you are held accountable, that's a sign of respect; you were deemed capable of accomplishing it.

So, at least in the workplace, autonomy and accountability are two sides of the same coin; each implies the existence of the other, and cannot be enjoyed without the other.  

A five-minute snooze

In my dreams I had been tracked down

By a wolf, and a bear, and an old toy clown.
The alarm went off, and I hit the floor,
And I groped for snooze, and I slept five more.
I did not then know, I did not then see
I had just sealed off what my life would be.

I was five minutes late to the parking lot,
So I missed the woman deep in thought,
Who’d locked her keys on the driver’s seat
(She was gone by then, so we did not meet),
So I didn't help, and she didn't laugh
At the joke I’d heard from the office staff.

And we didn't date, and we didn't wed,
And we never named Danielle and Ed,
And we never saw them cross the stage,
And we didn’t help each other age,
And we never did the China trip,
And I wasn’t there when she broke her hip.

I did not then know, I did not then see
I had just sealed off what my life would be.
And I never learned what a life I’d lost,
What a five-minute snooze in the morning cost.

A matter of life and death

An observation:

You cannot really live until you have died.  You cannot fully experience life until you are willing to lose it.  Every action in life requires a kind of death.  In order to live with God, you must die to this fallen world system.  In order to live as a plumber, you must forgo being a pharmacist.  In order to marry Susan, you must forgo marrying Jane.  In order to develop a solid friendship with Bob, you must give up time with John. 

The man who fears dying, who fears restricting himself to one God, one profession, one wife, one set of friends, will never really live.  He will wander through life indecisively.  In his hesitation to close off career options by becoming too specialized, he will join the ranks of neither the pharmacists nor the plumbers (though he might deliver pizzas to both of them).  Unable to decide between Jane and Susan, he will be merely a groomsman in both of their weddings.  He will talk about sports and the weather with with Bob, John, and a thousand other acquaintances, but have no real friends.  Through fear of death, he will miss out on life.  He will die.

The man who does not fear death, lives life.  He dies to a transient world system, and gains an eternal God.  He dies to pharmacy, and becomes a reliable plumber (and orders pizza).  He gives up Jane, and marries Susan, and raises Elijah, Brigita, etc.  He gives up a thousand potential friends, and invests in Bob.  He gives up a thousand potential lives, dies a thousand real deaths, and really lives.

...And Everyone Rises

For Brian and Tonya.  Composed at their rehearsal dinner a little over a year ago.

The groom is at attention,
The groomsmen stand arrayed,
The bridesmaids one by one have come inside.
The music changes tempo,
A silence fills the room,
And through the door, exultant, comes the bride,
                          ...and everyone rises.

The wait at last is ended!
The gospel through all lands
And to all tribes and tongues has finally flown.
A trumpet splits the heavens!
A shout rebounds from earth!
Our Lord at last descends to claim His own,
                          ...and everyone rises.

The bridegroom, like our Savior,
Protects and leads his bride;
He gives his life for her and her alone.
The bride reflects God’s people,
His spotless, holy church,
Which lives in glad submission to her Own.

So Tonya, love your husband,
And Brian, love your wife,
And live for Christ: lay down your earthly lives.
In His strength, serve each other,
With patience, grace, and hope,
‘Till death you part, or ‘till our Lord arrives,
                          ...and everyone rises.

Poems from High School

Martyr's Song
Rejoice with me, for I am going Home!
The gates of heav’n are op’ning up to me.
No more upon this squalid earth I’ll roam;
My Savior’s face I soon shall clearly see.
That Light of Life is brighter than this fire
Which withers up the flesh that was my tent.
His promises ignite such sweet desire
That I to Him contentedly am sent.
I am Your servant, Lord, You are the gain
Sustaining me through death’s apparent loss,
And though I die, in You I shall remain—
So burn away this last remaining dross!
Life’s consummation commeth when I die.
Release my soul! Into Your arms I’ll fly!


Running
A runner temp’ral health and strength pursues.
A Christian runs eternal life to gain.
But both of them their earthly comfort lose,
And in its stead get tiredness and pain.
Their pace is often mercilessly slow.
Terrain and weather dauntingly array
To coax the tired runner not to go,
But wait, perhaps, until another day.
But Christian and the runner onward press;
Their future joys make current troubles light,
For neither one will reach his home unless
He keeps the pace, and runs with all his might.
So each strives onward, running to his goal,
And conqu’ring, one for body, one for soul.

Transitioning to College:My ten obvious observations.

I had a good conversation with one of my sisters today about preparing for college.  She asked for some points to keep in mind while preparing to transition from high school to college.  After stumbling through a few highlights, I finished the conversation, sat down, and developed what I wanted to have said.  Thus, here you have them: my ten obvious observations.

First, figure out where you're going, before you try to get there.  College is a great investment, but a very expensive hobby.  Before you invest large amounts of your time, effort, and money in a degree, figure out what job you want.  Then, organize your college plans around that goal.  My grandpa once said that the way to pick a college major is to tie a piece of string to a rock, throw the rock onto the job you want, pull the string taut, and then follow the string to the job.

Second, don’t fear failure.  Discover your intellectual limits by tripping over them.  Don’t limit yourself to what you think you can do; you are probably smarter than you think you are.   Don't worry about your ability to succeed in difficult classes.  Given the choice, I would rather have a couple of low marks in challenging classes than high marks in easy ones.  Think of it from an employer’s perspective: would you rather hire someone who got a B in Thermodynamics, or an A in Introductory Fencing?  Also, remember that your goal is not to demonstrate your self-worth through academic achievement.  It is to glorify God by preparing yourself to serve Him in a profession.  Thus, you are pursuing competence in your calling through diligence in difficulty, not just good grades in care-free classes.

Third, keep in mind that in college, as in the rest of life, you get out what you put in.  Learning is not automatic; you have to work at it.  Classes do not automatically make you smarter; you don't have to understand them to pass them.  If you do just enough work to get by, you will probably pass your classes, and will probably get a degree.  After you graduate, you can tack your diploma in a fancy frame, elevating yourself to the status of the degreed.  If, however, I were to ask you to apply what you studied to a real-life situation, the only thing you would be able to give me is a blank look. Many students do this.  Don't fall for it.  Take advantage of your classes while you have them.  If you take the opportunity to delve into the course material, learning more than you are required to learn, you’ll finish with a degree that actually means something.

Fourth, remember that professors are people, too.  Many of them decided to become professors because they love helping people learn.  They enjoy getting to know their students, and helping them understand tough concepts.  Visit their offices early in the semester (even if it’s just to introduce yourself), and frequently thereafter.  Talk with them after class.  Find out how their week is going.  You’ll usually find that they have valuable insights to offer, and interesting stories to tell.  They’ll probably enjoy getting to know you as much as you enjoy getting to know them.

Fifth, recognize that you will become like your friends.  Keep a sharp eye out for people you want to be like someday.  When you find them, study with them. 

Sixth, learn by teaching.  Don't sit in study groups like a leech, seeing what you can take from your classmates.  Rather, join study groups to help your classmates learn the material.  If you make teaching a habit, you will ultimately learn more from your group meetings.    A proverb from India wisely advises, "To learn, read. To know, write. To master, teach."  Teaching makes you think of the material in new ways, as you try to explain the material in ways that your classmates can resonate with, and to develop questions that will lead your classmates to an accurate understanding of it.

Seventh, remember that there is always someone busier than you.  As a professional student, one of the most entertaining things to listen to is a group of freshman undergraduates discussing their schedules.  They describe a week which, to me, sounds nearly empty, almost to the point of boredom.  They then go on to complain about how terribly overwhelming it all is, and how their professors are so unreasonable to expect so much of them.  A Chinese proverb accurately states that “talking does not cook rice.”  Don’t waste time entertaining professional students: stop complaining, and get your work done.

Eighth, don’t be afraid of calculus. I used to think of calculus as an amazing intellectual feat performed by superhumans.  Come to think of it, I once thought of reading that way, too.  It turns out, if you apply yourself to them, neither of them is very difficult.  More importantly, calculus is the basic language of the sciences.  It is used to describe how the world works in almost every field, from astronomy to zoology.  If you learn calculus, you will set yourself up to do better in whichever field you choose.

Ninth, always take the time to ask "why."  It is easy to swallow facts and names the night before an exam, and spit them up again on paper the next day.  Within a week, you forget what you crammed.  Congratulations.  You just wasted your tuition money.  Take time instead to digest the material.  For example, when you learn the Latin names of anatomical structures, ask why those structures were given their names.  Why memorize that within a "renal corpuscle", the "glomerulus" is encapsulated by "podocytes," when you could know that within a "little body in the kidney," the blood vessel "knot" is surrounded by "cells with feet?"

Finally, remember that you're competing against gazelles and lions.  Thomas Friedman, in his book, The World is Flat, quoted an excellent African proverb to this effect: 

"Every morning in Africa, a gazelle wakes up.  It knows it must run faster than the fastest lion, or it will be killed. Every morning, a lion wakes up.  It knows it must outrun the slowest gazelle, or it will starve to death.  It doesn't matter whether you are a lion or a gazelle; when the sun comes up, you'd better start running."

When you choose your classes, focus on hard math and science courses.  These apply to almost every well-paying career.  After you graduate, these challenging courses will make you a competitive job applicant.  In today’s job market, you will need to be as competitive as you can.

And there you have them: my ten obvious observations.  If you keep these in mind, you'll be off to a better start than some, and as good a start as most, and you'll probably avoid some of the mistakes that I made along the way.