We all know about the bear. We might overhear, “That math exam was a bear,” or we might say, “My neighbors had a bear of an argument last night.” We also know about the “bear market,” a situation in the stock market that plays havoc with our investment portfolios. And then, there’s the fact of the bear. The everyday, very difficult challenge of life that each of us and all of us need to be prepared for, like it or not. And like it, we don’t.

It may be natural that human beings don’t like what is difficult. However, as far as we know, other animals don’t talk to themselves about how difficult it is going to be to construct the next dam, build the next nest or forage yet again for food. Typically, animals not built to adapt to and endure their situations die.

But we seem to think that things should be easy—the challenge of life or anything else—and that it is cool to pretend that we’ve got it under control. No one wants to be seen sweating. In fact, in many arenas, “swagger” and “attitude” seem to count for more than the hard work involved in holding a life together.

And, in the final analysis, if we can’t hide the fact that our lives are messy, problematic and relentlessly demanding, we blame it on circumstance: lack of opportunity, insufficient cash, wrong spouse or relationship, less than picture-perfect children or perhaps a bad choice.

These swaggering positions and excuses, which pervade our culture, are corrupt or bogus and they mask other situations. Life is challenging and unpredictable and often disruptive. Much is out of our control. Risk, especially in the long run, is likely to pan out adversely. Disappointment is practically guaranteed. It is only possible to think otherwise if we have no experience. It is also self-destructive to deny how challenging life is—a denial made in service of a cool and above-it-all Scoreboard image—because it is counterproductive to fail to learn to struggle, win, lose and to prevail long-term.

However, one of Scoreboard’s ranking strategies is based on distance—distance from the toil with the bear that living demands. Let’s hide our brute fears and anxieties and our subjective worries and uncertainties. Let’s hide the need and the caring, the broken hopes, the naked desires and fears, the wants and aches. The less we have to associate with the brute and ordinary struggle of life, the better.

Of course, such a strategy is not cool. It’s coldly soulless. Gaming the reality of how difficult life is has a price—often overlooked. The image-conscious game of privileging the pristine and permanent over the participatory and transcendent is actually, in the long-term, the setup for the fall.

The image-conscious game gets in the way of our ability to create reflective and spiritual authority—a different kind of capital—the accumulation of which allows us to thoughtfully shape the content of our lives. In fact, no ultimate circumstance, purpose, meaning or truth provides a permanently rewarding conclusion or permanently comfortable respite. Every day the sun comes up. Every day we face life. Every day we face creation. So, we, you and I, come together. Our task? To face the bear. To be ready for difficulty. To endure.

Yes, we volunteered to undertake many responsibilities—desiring financial prosperity and a family, perhaps, or in service of an obligation such as the care of an aging parent. But regarding demands made by the cultural zeitgeist, we seem to have no choice but to meet them—the consequences of a failure to do so can be dire. Take parenthood, for instance. It is not a discrete accomplishment. Along with it come many other conventional expectations and time commitments.

Especially if we find ourselves on playing fields wherein our temperament, personality and skills are not a natural fit, our responsibilities can be anxiety-producing. Comparisons are omnipresent. We may judge ourselves harshly when we compare our performance in these arenas to those whose temperaments and skills are a natural fit.

Nonetheless, despite the fact of all these functionary roles and their demands, the spirit wanting what it wants is an axiom of life—for most of us as convincing as gravity. And if we ignore this human spirit, our lives, however occupied, feel impoverished, incomplete, hollow.

So, though a successful, social personhood is expected of us, the more private, interior self has its own needs. It is here that we generate peace of mind and stability—no matter how busy. It is here that we make sense of the world that we live in. It is here that the spirit soars.

But it’s not a given, this spirit. Though it wants what it wants, it must be refined to be made meaningful and to make a difference to the lives of others.

A creatively intelligent and responsible expression of this spirit is a result of a carefully acquired and practiced capacity. It is not a mindset or belief or feeling easily accessed. It begins with an understanding of ourselves as not only instruments or role players but as transcendent possibility.

Of course, we can seem to get by without really acquiring spiritual maturity, without cultivating affinity, compassion and generosity. We don’t go to jail if we are egoistic, verbally aggressive, antagonistic or thoughtlessly submissive.

But life can feel hollow, and we can feel less than who we might be, without it. Yet, too often under the pressures of the everyday, we shortchange or sideline our commitment to the fulfillment and contribution that spiritual depth yields.

Too easily we are derailed. Too easily we lose our focus. Too easily we are implored by bandwagons to mindlessly conform to the selfishness, nastiness and resentment that now characterize much of politics, the media and other institutions.

We want to be standard-bearers for another possibility. The expression of a deep and abiding soulfulness requires a constancy of purpose and transcendent practice—the act of getting over ourselves. So it is important to stay on track with the practices—not with rote lip service but boldly. Power, inspiration, momentum, creativity and transcendence favor the bold.

It could be said we get a good deal when we play Scoreboard because it hides us in plain sight. Let me tell you what I mean.

By manufacturing a dazzling aura, with glitter, gloss and stuff, Scoreboard hides our lack of substance, heart and soul. It hides their absence from others also being played. It is a kind of ego protection for those who don’t want to get even glimpses of their own superficiality. In other words, when Scoreboard does its job well, what is shallow and vain is hidden by the hoopla.

Here, in America, of course, big heads and swelled egos are always in our face. If not in person, we see them on television or read about them in magazines and online. (The media is playing us, too. Doesn’t their audience share increase when they feature the self-promoting, conceited behavior of celebrities or fame-seeking politicians, addicts and convicted criminals pretending to be born-again?)

But status-seeking, ego-protected self-promotion doesn’t need a media circus. Against often capricious or bogus standards, millions of people find much to celebrate, admire and praise about themselves and are cruelly contemptuous or dismissive of others.

We boast obviously—our bids for approval and admiration naked and cheap. But we who know how to do our bragging modestly do it best. First, we try to hide our status anxiety and contentiousness. Then, we “objectively” tick off our achievements. Finally, after mentioning a minor, acceptable mistake (“yes, I did inhale”), piously acknowledging team effort (a team we’ve exploited), and making a faux show of reticence, we hammer down our righteous place on the Scoreboard.

Not all chronically self-centered people are necessarily big show-offs. Many of us take a less is more approach. We like to have our “modest” and “deep” choices and tastes displayed as if they were in some crucial sense more fundamentally meaningful than those made by others who conspicuously display their stuff.

Needless to say, such coarseness (or bogus humility) and artifice are not only unattractive. They actually impoverish the environment in which human possibility may thrive. For even as religious teaching fades from the consciousness of many, the demand for humane, decent and thoughtful behavior remains of critical importance to individual, family, community and state.

There is little cause for celebration until we understand that our lives—absent the ability to “get over” what is coarse, brute-like and obsessively selfish—are small and petty lives that barely scratch the surface of human possibility.

On the other hand, there IS something to celebrate. We honor the self when we temper the aggression, antagonism and rivalry common in human relations. We show respect for the self and our unique possibility when we respond to the challenge of a substantive life and take responsibility for who we are, for who we might yet be, and for how we might be known.

Not satisfied with the mindless clichés concealing the value of a thoughtful subjective life and glossing the gross injustices that pock and pummel the earth, we choose to acknowledge and confront the chaos that life is: its mysteries, its challenges, its excitements, its contingencies.

In a world where so little is certain, we search for answers. Who are we? Is there deep meaning to our lives? Or not? To where are we being led? What is leading us? Pushing us? Pulling us?

As instances of humanity, inextricably connected with one another, and pledged to transcendence, what must we do?

And as bounded and unique prospects of history’s evolving design of the self, how do we create goals that authenticate our temperaments and our talents, our sensibilities and our circumstances?

We are resolved to make it matter that we lived at all and, in a manner of speaking, we have souls to save or lose. We’ve much to do.

The commitment to confront the bedrock and realities of existence is not too heavy to bear. We can be in creative control of the subjective contents of our minds. We can be artists of our own emotions and curators of the active energy loving expression requires.

We can choose the gentle arts. We can be alive with hope, joy and good will. We can draw on the resilience of the human spirit. We can show love and affection, care and concern, and kindness, kinship and resolution. Such choices, testaments of heart, nerve and compassion, are encouraging and enlightening signals for all who can see.

As always, I am deeply thankful for all who reflect in their daily living the best of transcendent possibility.

May love and affection grace your holidays and gladness and generosity fulfill your new year.

Back in the day, an appreciation of the arts and sciences and a knowledge of literature and history were staples of education. Their purported task? To broaden our horizons. To help us to see a picture bigger than that limited by our immediate and utilitarian interests. And their value rang true.

Today, the expedient nature of our enculturation and our infatuation with consumer technology exaggerates what appears to be in our rational self-interest. And it often ignores the imagination, inspiration and description of the bigger picture that connect us to one another, to the past and to the future.

However, even in this fast-track, business-oriented world, the heart demands that we locate and stand for kindly and decent objectives. Indeed, the need to acquire a deep and abiding generous spirit remains valid—imperative.

Now, the future being viewed with a certain panic, there is little time for pursuits that don’t sate our thirst for consumer technology or move us up the status ladder. But something important is lost when we’re just functionaries, when we don’t knowingly attend to our larger selves. In other words, what was necessary back in the day is necessary now.

For instance, those of us who have searched for the gifted writers whose vocabulary makes literature, or history or Darwinian theory, or the neuro- or cognitive sciences approachable, and those in the habit of reading poetry or novels or appreciating other of the fine arts, know the value of such inquisitiveness and make time for it. Those of us not in the habit may miss the pleasure, inspiration and insight into human lives and circumstances they provide, not to mention the new ideas that spring from such penetrating perception.

Which is why, as a piece of defining and refining who we are, I recommend finding time to spend on this valuable endeavor. When our attention and sensitivity are carefully focused on less intensely utilitarian but highly complex subjects, and we suddenly see, hear, comprehend, know, we feel an exquisite sense of pleasure, grandeur, awe.

How this works—the confluence of nature and artifice—is a mystery. But we can make some educated guesses. For instance, by electrifying our senses and gratifying our inquisitive nature, an artist, a cognitive or human scientist, or a poet, breaches the isolated or alienated or just busy situation in which we find ourselves. With line, shape, form, space, texture, value and color, or with vocabulary, history, narrative, posit and persuasion, we are awakened, enchanted, connected and, perhaps, enlightened.

Indeed, our ability to create or access the dimension of the artist and the scientist is a key part of what it takes to feel comfortable in the world, comfortable in our skin, consonant with the complex and competing emotions to which humans are heir, in harmony with the deeper rhythms of life.

To take time for this subject matter may be challenging for a couple of reasons. First, if our orientation has always been toward the practical, there is a great beginning to get over, a frontier to cross. How do we put together a perspective on the human condition and our finitude that allows us to appreciate whole new realms of meaning, possibility and belonging?

Second, if we tend to make any pursuit into a competition with bragging rights and the attendant status anxiety, we forego the purpose of our endeavor here. The acquisition of thing after thing and win after win does not resolve existential questions about purpose and fulfillment.

Your time is precious. However, your investment in acquiring the bigger picture will pay off. And you’ll enjoy yourself in the bargain.

Before we embark on a planned journey to have the life we want, we have the life that happened to us. No doubt, part of it happened willy-nilly or by hook and by crook—by any means possible. And part of it probably happened under the watchful eyes of parents, teachers and other caretakers. In any case, we’re well programmed (our brains etched by habit) by the time we want to define and refine the life we DO want.

So, we are the way we are. What’s next? It takes a lot of motivation to create a refined and profound sensibility—given the momentum, automaticity and negativity of our biological and cultural heritage. Think it over. We’re not just wedded to the specific material circumstances that we inherited or choose, are we? We are also hitched to social and familial expectations and tethered to narrative viewpoints that may subvert our autonomy. And finally, we are seemingly tied and inextricably knotted to the willful and reflexive manner by which we submit to immediacy.

So let’s begin by taking the generous spirit (our figurative sword) to the knot of antagonism. Because it subjects our responsibility for intention, control and transcendence, we want to address the reflexive, antagonistic manner by which we submit to immediacy. Indeed, willfully or reflexively, we forgo control of our happiness and our stability when we don’t learn to transcend the immediate.

Of course, antagonism and negativity are natural. Yet, under their pervasive and persuasive influence, our autonomy is subverted. Each of us wants to be the authority in our lives. We hate to feel subjected—under the thumb of others or of convention. And we hate it when we subvert our own responsibility for defining and refining ourselves and our lives.

In fact, what we don’t like about others and what we don’t like about ourselves is the unexamined antagonism that infests our thinking, speaking and action. It’s a poor, nagging fit for those of us who understand that meaning, happiness and stability are a function of creative control and of substance.

Moreover, antagonism is really a cover-up. We who are hostile, petty, disagreeable or worse don’t acknowledge that we’re unable to manage our thoughts and emotions. Instead, we blame our meanness of spirit or general discontent on someone or something. But when we live this way, it is we, ourselves, who are deplorable. And no wonder: it is a shoddy way to be.

If we are committed to live life from and with a generosity of spirit, and we are, we take it upon ourselves to get over the compelling authority of our immediacy and the unmediated antagonism in our biological and cultural nature.

Especially in our youth, we think that the world we see and hear is exactly the way we see and hear it. How could it not be? However, as we learn, as we age, as we err, it may begin to dawn on us that we see things as WE are, not as they ARE.

When we know more, we may begin to suspect how subjective and prejudicial our knowledge is. After all, how we react to events and the demands made on us, as well as our responses to these events and demands, differs from person to person.

Our ability to envision and evaluate is remarkably and extensively shaped by our subjective “take” on the world. By our mindset. By our vocabulary and narrative. By the things that we talk to ourselves about.

Our grasp of what is going on is a comprehension—really fragmented snapshots—determined in large part by who we are. These snapshots are shaped by the reflexive grab of our biology and education and by our conditioning and experience. We are also shaped by our exposure to unfriendly or friendly persuasion and by the seductions of the Scoreboard.

We were inserted and seduced into the mix of things that exist interior or exterior to us. And this series of fragmented snapshots becomes a significant piece of the mind’s “I” with which we interpret and engage life.

Here’s a telling example. While parents and teachers were doing their best to shape us in a particular way, we were also being impressed and influenced by other factors. Our senses were connecting to color, sound, vibe and countless other phenomena. In fact, in virtually every social situation, even as children, we had a feeling for what was esteemed, for who had the power, for who rewarded and who punished.

Also, on much of the turf where we observed and played, we could sense that it was a mistake to appear clueless. As a result, the value of an inquisitive mind disappeared.
Odds are, we adopted a recklessly sure-of-ourselves way of being and, perhaps, a hard-to-deal-with willful cockiness or arrogance.

Indeed, children, by virtue of what they have sensed, already have a point of view and a convincing story about life. By the time that significant choices need to be made, this is their mindset. And it stays put. On and on and on—into adulthood. In fact, it stays put forever unless a conscientious effort to change it is made. We tend to put more attention on trying to get what we’re supposed to want than on truly taking command of our lives.

However, as we begin to exercise our freedom to mediate this subjectivity, exciting new possibilities for happiness and for life emerge. This is what comes of taking a fresh look at the way we think, at the subjective and narrative manner in which we recognize ourselves.

These are difficult times. Many of us, for many reasons, are angry, fed up or dispirited. As a result, we become marks for those who know how to exploit the human creature’s antagonistic impulse.

Frustrated human beings are easily drawn onto cliché-defined, fear-mongering bandwagons which, upon scrutiny, have no corrective depth. What we may not recognize, though, when we jump on a bandwagon is this: We are surrendering to anger and pessimism instead of taking up inventive creativity.

Though jumping on a bandwagon may provide a temporary feeling of solidarity, the irritability and frustration return because the bandwagon doesn’t deal with a crucial underlying issue. What’s this issue? The general discontents that accompany the civilizing process—rivalrous instincts that loom remarkably large when the times are tough.

Certainly, the anger, agitation and angst we feel are immediate and compelling, but their settlement awaits the inventive creativity of autonomy, not another bandwagon. Let me tell you what I mean.

We humans weren’t keen on living like savage beasts. We don’t miss the dirt, the dark, the cold, the danger. But we’re also not always too fond of the peaceful means to resolving differences in the modern world.

The comfort and convenience of a civilized life come with an emotional price—especially if our mental and material resources have already been stretched thin. The price? We are expected to get over our bred-in-the-bone antagonistic and rivalrous feelings, keep a civil tongue and settle, reconcile or tolerate the pain that accompanies social conflict.

But a whole lot of us won’t. And a whole lot of us actually CAN’T summon these resources. We haven’t yet acquired the substance or guts of autonomy that would address the displeasure and aggravation.

So, when it comes to dealing with the inevitable and ceaseless discontents that accompany the civilizing process, what’s the alternative to the angry bandwagon voice? The steady and steadfast autonomous voice.

The autonomous voice is a powerful one, requiring effort with persuasion, generosity, flexibility, give and take and, of course, creativity. It recognizes the assumptions, weaknesses and deadening protocols inherent in the prevailing conceptual reality, and it creates new space-shaping forms or reaches of expression and habitation. It believes that courageous acts inspired by this generous spirit are the solution to the crippling confines of inflamed rivalry and antagonism.

Even more poignant, perhaps, is this: We grow older feeling we’ve lived little lives when we don’t create a voice of our own, when we haven’t clearly sorted out what matters and spent ourselves accordingly. No bandwagon can do it for us.

Here’s an example of what I mean by the efficacy of the autonomous voice. We have goals and objectives like everyone does, and many of them require the cooperation of others. Since we don’t use cudgels or coercion or fear-mongering to get them to go along with us, we use persuasion. And we use it artfully.

We make use of persuasion to support and encourage, to suggest and influence, to foster responsibility and obligation, to make viable and compelling promises, to negotiate contracts and exchange equivalent value, to motivate with appeals to reason and heart and to communicate convincingly with partner, child, parent, neighbor, bank, associate, etc.

Our autonomous voice is not a submissive go-along-to-get-along voice. It handles our discontents and disagreements artfully. It engages truthfulness, candor and relevance; confidence and self-control; and it attends to vocabulary and narrative and to reconciliation and consolation. It is intelligent, privileged, and much is expected of it. It takes a stand. It bears witness. It gives notice.

I don’t think we can pin down what percentage of the affinitive sentiments is brute nature and what is enhanced by religion, art, literature, music, dance and valentines. But these affinitive sentiments—they are not unnatural. Think empathy, sympathy, love and camaraderie. Think kindness, nurture, gentility and understanding. Indeed, when we come to recognize well and true who we are, we sense, and we heed, an attraction, an affection—always already there—for the asking.

So, affinity is at the very least a possibility, a subterranean current. And, affinity is also a remarkable achievement, an intuitive and worthy art whose generous expression is evidence of a life lived in good faith.

The feelings we are just born with, they come and go. They are wonderful, dynamic and ecstatic, and they are fickle, unpredictable and disaffected. They can corrupt reason, undermine the best intentions and lead us astray, as well as up and down and all over the place. In other words, the feelings, moods and sweet and sour vibes that just arise unexpectedly and depart inexplicably are too capricious to be the sole source of our intellectual and emotional generosity.

We don’t want to depend solely on erratic feelings to move us to commitment, to thankfulness and to an appreciation of life. And, of course, we don’t want to depend solely on these fickle feelings to stimulate our expressions of love, generosity, tenderness, and compassion. So, if we’re not “feeling it,” we can create it. One of the greatest joys of autonomy is the ability to be an artist of our own emotions and a curator of the active energy loving expression requires.

It’s easy when affinity’s promptings are deep, the juices flowing, the excitement present, when the heart pounds and the spirit is touched. But much of how life is doesn’t lend itself to easy.

We are aware of the contingent, finite, bewildering nature of life, as well as the seemingly intransigent nature of each of us. And, of course, conflict, hardship and misfortune are unavoidable—they pervade the human condition and we suffer over it. In its midst, we may break loose of the connections or lose touch with the openhearted grace of affinity. Further, antagonism is natural. Just for the “joy” of causing others pain, people oppose what is being built and destroy that which is built. And our best intentions—our care and compassion and commitment—can be met with antipathy and rejection.

Yet, none of us want to be disheartened or dispirited by this kind of opposition, or by our own co-mingled joys and sorrows. The daily enactment of a disciplined and caring way of thinking and going about being human not only makes life possible, it gives it meaning as well. So, this is where human autonomy comes into play, and mastering it is crucial. Made up of cultivated resources such as intellectual integrity, emotional generosity and a healthy dose of self-control and self-determination, our autonomy is something we acquire or win.

When we are autonomous, we can call upon ourselves to love life, to thrill upon its possibility, to speak with our love, to recognize its expression as an act of intelligence and grace—a commitment to hold the relationship, the family, the community together. We can call upon ourselves to kindle light, love and friendship and to create and renew against the forces of conflict, cynicism and antagonism.

The media reports on or elicits bogus moral outrage, grossly indiscreet tell-alls and false accusations and sends us chasing after red herrings. Afternoon talk shows and print or digital columns present undeveloped emotionality, poor judgment and spiritual poverty as if the failures were the fault of someone else.

On scripted and unscripted show alike, we see condescending ill manners, arrogance and inaccessibility. But the behavior is portrayed as a fierce and gutsy achievement—not as a sign of desperation from those who have lost connection with the kind, the decent and the humane.  These raw manifestations of immediacy are protected by our right to free speech. There will always be people who thrive in the bully pulpit.

However, most of the rest of us don’t fight the good fight in this manner. In fact, most of us suffer greatly when we give too much play to raw immediacy, to mean-mindedness, blame or excuses and ego. It saps our strength, our effectiveness and our affinity, and it brutalizes the lives of everyone near, or dear.

Yes, antagonism, animosity and a stingy spirit seem natural enough. They may be the narrative projection of the animal’s ability to extend and defend itself, its offspring and its territory. Of course, we humans don’t literally eat the young of a rival. But, in the throes of raw immediacy, we may be two-faced, punitive and sullen, or snooty, or quick to take offense. Or else we affect the demeanor of a victim.

And, of course, in its throes, we don’t acknowledge that we’re unable to manage our thoughts and emotions. We blame someone or something for our resentment, instability and general discontent. We blame someone or something for our unwarranted antagonism, our poor manners and our irresponsibility. But when we live this way, it is we, ourselves, who are deplorable.

In immediacy’s grip, we represent the facts out of context; we act without regard for the feelings of others and with malicious words, we take the light from the eyes of others. And, as I said, we justify it because we can always point to people and situations that make us feel unsettled or insecure.

So, too often, out of touch with the kind, decent and humane, we indulge the pettiness and mean-mindedness, though we pay a big price for the indulgence. Desperation, lethargy, passivity, lack of confidence and loneliness are the common costs. And certainly, it is a poor and embarrassing role model for those who depend on us. No one wants a parent, representative, boss or friend who lacks intellectual integrity, emotional control and spiritual resource.

Much about the creative, inspired and meaningful life has to do with transcending the raw and immediate in favor of practices we might characterize as decent, humane and thoughtful, noble and deep. Much of it has to do with determining the authority by which we live, and then living by it, despite the relentless provocations of our own temperament, media hype and a world often cruel, unjust and disappointing.

This requires enormous dedication, initiative, and the ability to self-inspire. It enables us to live with ourselves and to get on with the life we choose.