the beauty of cobblestone: uneven paths

When driving, who wouldn't choose the paved roads, the smooth transitions, the shock absorbers’ gratitude? The initial response may well be likewise when confronted with personal and career decisions, yet is the flat ride always the best?

Instinct may have us attempt to avoid struggling, yet perseverance and character are built upon that self-same struggle and arguably impossible to achieve without it. The twin peaks of satisfaction and contentment are borne from a belief in—and willingness to confront— what lies ahead rather than an escape-at-all-costs mindset that has less substance than a microbe.

And why hesitate to take the unconventional route, especially when following prescribed paths may well lead to routine lives, to unfulfilled potential, to boredom? The celebrated neurologist Oliver Sacks, for one, took an unorthodox path to both his life and his study of the brain. He allied a deeply sympathetic engagement with patients to an energetic, fiercely independent—if vulnerable—personality unafraid to put his work on display through books, articles and classrooms. His new memoir, On the Move, reveals an altogether fascinating, inspiring perspective.

Doubt is real and often cannot be avoided, yet it surely can be channeled productively. Questions about how to proceed? Be they allied to a job application, to a marriage proposal, to heart surgery, to a huge project that promises months or years of steady effort or to countless other scenarios, that self-same doubt may well lead to extra preparation, to extra discipline, to extra care that can well mean the difference between rejection and accomplishment, between regret and gratitude.

Ask for help. Seek guidance. Work hard. Don’t be afraid to take educated risks. The uneven cobblestone path to get there may well turn into the most durable of them all.

working for a nonprofit: aluminum foil

What is it about the prevalent tendency toward one-upmanship? Why is it that pride is not always limited to the more interior pursuits of quiet knowledge, of meaningful achievement, of security borne of discipline and hard work? Must everything be on display?

Credit-card companies, for example, began peddling Gold cards in the 1980s as a way to distinguish the truly elite from the merely

creditworthy. The 1990s brought Platinum cards. The 2000s even saw Titanium cards. Will the 2010s offer a Palladium card? Can a Rhodium card be far behind? And will an Iridium card grant access to Mars, having bought everything else under the sun that our earthly life could imagine?

Just once I’d like to open my mail and receive a solicitation for an Aluminum card. To be sure, credit cards can be exceptionally useful, even indispensable in some quarters, but they are a tool, not an end. Security manifests itself in many ways, financial security reasonably among them, but as we cannot take it with us, does it make sense to devote lives to its accumulation at the expense of more lasting achievements and contributions, from children and families to strong communities and social innovation?

Humility and gratitude are the ideal foils to materialism. Sure, the solarium’s stained glass is stunning, the oceanfront condominium glorious, the Mercedes 700-series a sanctuary, the five-star restaurants indulgent…. But set up a foundation, #volunteer at a nonprofit, raise families with integrity to the core—then discover the true meaning of precious mettle.