Category: Life Questions

Fairness

Fairness. It’s such a fundamental concept for each of us, and we all claim to want life to be fair. Is it?

The answer is, as always, it depends.

It depends on what you mean by fair. Do you mean that you get what you deserve? Or that you get a clear path to what you want? Or that you get help whenever you need it? Or that you should get whatever you set your eyes on? To me, fairness has always been about getting a result commensurate with the personal investment you’ve made to get it.

So is life fair? Do we get that commensurate result?

It depends.

It depends on commitment. On circumstance. On luck, even. In our house we talk about the 80-10-10 rule. Eighty percent of the time we get what we deserve. We give a sincere effort, we get the result we want. We study for the test, we get the grade we wanted. We prepare for an assignment at work, devote time and energy without shortcuts, and we get recognition for a job well done. We prep the wall for painting, tape the baseboards, paint mindfully, and the wall looks great. Or we fail to give that effort, and we come up short. But the result is fair.

Ten percent of the time we give the sincere effort, but we don’t get the result. The teacher tests us on something that wasn’t on the exam prep. The data in our systems turned out to be wrong. The tape on the baseboard was defective and didn’t hold. So despite best efforts, we failed. This is where we’ve been screwed. And this is where we all say, “It’s not fair!”

And it’s not.

But neither is the other ten percent of the time, when we take a shortcut, when we blow off the work and still get the outcome we want. We seem to forget about these instances, where we achieve only because of good luck, when the test is completely on the one part of the chapter we read or when the boss asks the one question we know something about. Instead, we take those gifts as our rightful results, and we don’t remember them when circumstances break the other way.

So is life fair? It’s not always fair, and not always unfair in the way we think. It depends.

Courage

What is courage? And, more importantly, can I be brave?

Perhaps it’s my current preoccupation with death, or perhaps it’s the confrontations with my government and other citizens that seem so inevitable as I write these words, but courage has been on my mind a lot recently. And wondering how I will respond in situations when it is required.

I don’t think I’m very brave. I have jumped off a platform with a bungy cord attached to me. I have challenged myself with physical feats of endurance that haven’t been comfortable. I contemplate tattoos and career changes and vegan diets without pause, and I will try new things without reserve (to be fair, only after due deliberation however!).

But that doesn’t feel like courage to me.

In each of those situations I believe I understand the risks and that a disastrous outcome is so unlikely that I don’t need to feed it any emotional energy. I am not afraid, so I don’t need courage. Commitment, resolve, focus, discipline, adaptability – all those, yes. But not courage.

So what does take courage?

I believe in positive. I believe in win-win. I believe in encouraging others, and that we can do our best when we strive for a result by using our strengths rather than avoid an outcome by mitigating our shortcomings. Or maybe I tell myself this because I really hate hurting people. Even merely disappointing others unsettles me, whether or not it’s necessary. I’m not comfortable imposing myself on people either. For me, those circumstances take courage, courage that is often found wanting.

So how will I respond when I am called to do something both important and uncomfortable? Will I rise to the occasion? Alas, I fear the data to this point isn’t very promising.

Death

I am 56 years old. I am going to die.

I’m not sick. In fact, I’m active and healthy. I’m not a reckless driver. I haven’t had a premonition of my demise. I don’t really know why it’s been on my mind, but my death has been a mental presence for more than a year.

I read Being Mortal about 18 months ago. I read When Breath Becomes Air about 2 months ago. Were the thoughts there, or did the reading put them there? I have no idea.

Yet I know I am going to die. And so I’ve been thinking about what I can do before then. What I want to do. Whether or not I have the requisite courage to try bold ideas I have, or whether I will settle for meeker paths.

I am smart. Maybe even very smart. I really want to help people be happier, which I think means being healthier. I am curious, and I’m observant. I see what people are, and I don’t begrudge them what they are not. I see things clearly that many other people don’t see at all.

But I’m reluctant to impose, and I think asking anything of anyone is an imposition. I am shy unless I know you. And writing the previous paragraph makes me feel like a self-impressed jerk. Can I do anything but meek?

My questions aren’t about value: I feel conscientious enough that whatever I do I do well enough – or even better than that. I am competent in many things. But I care about relatively few things. So my questions are about how true I can be to my own values. My current skills – and my confidence – don’t align with my ambitions. I tell my children to be brave, to pursue their ambitions, that they will develop the knowledge, skills and experiences that will lead to success in their goals. But I’m 56. With obligations. Do I have time? Do I have energy?

I believe it’s never too late for someone to do something new. Do I believe it’s never too late for me?