The god I was taught to believe in had a lot of rules. Of course, he didn’t expect you to be able to follow them. But he did expect you to try really, really hard. And if you didn’t try really hard then you must not believe in him enough. And that was bad news for you. Because if you couldn’t believe enough then you would have to go to hell, forever. So, while you didn’t have to worry about possibly failing at keeping the rules, you had to worry double about why you weren’t able to keep the rules. Man, it was hard. The god I was taught to believe in particularly didn’t like social change. He didn’t like uppity blacks, he didn’t like (the people on) welfare, he didn’t like feminists. But he did like patriotism. I’m not sure if he liked patriotism in people in other countries, but he liked it in Americans. He also seemed to like Israel, but jews not so much. He liked country music, but not pop music. I guess because you can't dance well to c
Do our values change? Or do we simply lose track of who we are? When I was a boy, I was obsessed with David Carradine’s character Kwai Chang Caine. A fugitive shao-lin monk, he was forced to drift throughout the old west with only the clothes on his back and a few belongings, no place, no family, no friendships. And while each episode presented a new hardship to bear, he faced each with complete equanimity, finding purpose in the spiritual care of others. As a teenager, I longed to be just like him. But I grew up, went away to college, started a career and a family, and became busy. Then a couple of years ago, I found myself alone again – forced to sort out who I was and what I might want from life. During one period of reflection, I conceived of a set of guiding principles that resonated deep within me: simplicity – the avoidance of all but that which is either necessary or fulfilling, harmony – the continual effort to live in concert wi