Kingston WritersFest

I have been absent from the blog since the beginning of August. I thought it had been six weeks or so, but time apparently DOES fly. Anyway, since mid-September my life has been a blur of activity, wonderful but blurry. I will fill you in on a little of what has been going on. During the period 23-26 September I was at the Kingston WritersFest in Kingston, Ontario, where I was to deliver a presentation on Thursday afternoon about my journey on the Camino de Santiago in northern Spain. I stayed at a friend’s home (Judi Cova, a friend since the early 70’s at Queens). I went with Judi to the Wednesday evening reception for Margaret Atwood, to whom I gave a copy of my book and spoke for a few minutes, although I suspect that she would likely not recognize me in a crowd – it was very busy and noisy.

The next morning I went to the hospitality suite at the Holiday Inn Waterfront – the venue for all events except for the Atwood reception – where I met and was entranced by Howard Engel, who writes all the Benny Cooperman novels. Howard also wrote The Man Who Forgot How to Read about his own stroke 7 or 8 years ago and the immediate loss or reading ability, while retaining his ability to write. Through sheer effort, he has regained his ability to read, although his reading is much slower than it used to be. Howard and I chatted for several hours, during which we discovered that we had both served in Cyprus, he as a journalist in the early 60’s for a year, me as a military officer with an armoured reconnaissance squadron for six months in 1968. We had lots of places, but almost no people, in common. We exchanged books, so I was able to read his book that night.

Then he went off to an interview with Eric Friesen (to whom I also gave a copy of A Journey of Days), which I attended, after which I did my presentation about my journey on the Camino de Santiago, which he attended.  I am delighted to report that the bookstore sold out of copies of A Journey of Days, but I had extra copies with me (of course) and was able to replenish their supply. After the presentation, there was a book signing table where I met lots of interesting people and signed their copy of the book. It was like being a rock star! Very seductive, being recognized and honoured by a group of people over several days. I also met, listened to, and provided a copy of the book to Susan Olding and to Lorna Crozier, who discussed their memoirs. I had a wonderful time there in Kingston. The organization was very well handled and the event, at least to an outside observer, went off flawlessly.

I was very honoured by the WritersFest’s words about A Journey of Days: “With the wisdom and humour that come from a full life well lived, he sets out to discover the reason for the compulsion that drives him to make this incredible journey. His funny, intelligent and moving account has been called the best book yet written about walking the Camino.”  Those words are sheer delight to any author!

Next up: The presentation in Orlando!

1 August 2009

This past week a large car bomb was set off in Burgos in front of the barracks of the Guardia Civil. There were no deaths, but a large number of injured, some of them children. I had spent a day in Burgos during my journey across northern Spain two years ago. The news media reported that this cowardly act was done by the ETA (Euskadi Ta Askatasuna) or “Basque Homeland and Freedom”, considered by itself as a Basque paramilitary organization and defined as a terrorist organization by the European Union, the United Nations and by the United States. In October 2008, a car bomb was set off at the University of Navarra in Pamplona, also attributed to ETA. This is the same university campus that I walked through on my first day on the Camino de Santiago in early 2007. I had commented at the time in A Journey of Days that “There are sprayed-on slogans on some surfaces, presumably Basque separatist sentiment, but there does not appear to be any sense of danger here. Of course, my radar for that type of situation has never been very good!” My point in bringing this up is that there is no such thing as true security, even when you feel most secure. Of course the pilgrimage to Santiago was very much more dangerous in the early years, when murder, rape and theft were commonplace on the Camino. My experience on the camino led me to believe that it was a very safe walk, even for people walking alone, as I did. Apparently not quite as safe as I thought, although I would not suggest that people forgo the walk because of the Basque troubles. It would sure be unfortunate if a pilgrim now were to be inadvertently caught in the cross-fire as an innocent passerby.

31 July 2009

I have just finished reading another Camino book, “What the Psychic Told the Pilgrim”, by Jane Christmas. She tells the story of setting out on the Camino in a pack of 14 squabbling women and, based on that alone, I was prepared to not like it. I was in for a surprise. It was well-written, funny and, once she has gotten free of the burden of the covey of women, was quite philosophical. Her experiences, though, were very different from mine. At one point, she writes “You constantly think about quitting and going home. That single issue gets debated and rehashed by every pilgrim.” And the back cover says that “… she battles loneliness, hunger and exhaustion”. I didn’t have the same experiences at all, although I am not disputing hers. I intended to walk alone and did so for a large portion of my journey. I never thought about quitting and going home and I never heard any discussion about that topic in the many albergues where I overnighted. I was never lonely or hungry. I was by times exhausted, but that passed after a short rest. I think that each of us views the camino through our own emotional filters and I think that the differences in the experiences that Christmas had to those that I had are attributable at least partially to those filters. She is twice-divorced and a single woman. I have never divorced and have been happily married for over 50 years, just to mention one of the more potent filters. Reading her book reminds me, once again, not to make judgments based on incomplete knowledge or other’s hearsay. Another of life’s lessons relearned.

30 July 2009

Yesterday I told you about the trip to New Zealand and Australia. The second trip is for April and May of 2011. It will be almost exactly the opposite of the trip to down under. Alone, on foot, carrying a backpack, very modest accommodation. Those of you who have read my book, A Journey of Days, will recall that in 2007 I walked from Pamplona to Santiago in northwestern Spain, a journey of just over 700 kilometres. This time I plan to walk the “prequel” of my walk on the Camino in 2007. I will walk alone from Le Puy-en-Velay (southwest of Lyon in France) to Pamplona and I will stay mostly in pilgrim hostels (gite d’etapes in France and albergues in Spain). This route is one of the four major medieval pilgrim routes through France which connect to the better-known Camino de Santiago. I found a great web site about this French route, http://www.godesalco.com/plan/podense, which includes a trip planner. I have already been able to make a preliminary plan of how far to walk each day and in which village to stay. The trip of about 850 kilometres should take about 40 days, not including rest days. I will be 74 when I make this walk, so I will have to be physically very well prepared. More later.

New Plans

It’s very exciting here. I am in the beginning stages of planning two trips.

One for next March and April will be to New Zealand and Australia. Carroll and I have been talking about going there for about as long as we’ve known each other … and that’s a very long time. What triggered this trip was our attendance, over the past five weeks, at five funerals. If this doesn’t trigger the “Now” response, nothing ever will. You may recall from the book the lesson relearned about “If you really have a dream …” So we are going to pretend that we can afford it and just go do it. 

We will arrive in New Zealand on 25 February 2010, the day before my birthday and the seasonal equivalent of 25 August in the northern hemisphere, late summer/early fall in the southern half of the world. Carroll has been to New Zealand before, and will plan this portion, since she has lots of places she wants to show me. We have enough Aeroplan points to fly business class both ways, so the long, long flights will not be nearly as much of a fatigue problem. From New Zealand we travel to Sydney Australia on 10 March to join a two-week tour of Sydney, Melbourne and surrounding areas. This tour includes a back-stage tour of the Sydney Opera House, which will be fabulous. After that three weeks which I am responsible for planning. At the moment, it’s just a short list of places: Adelaide, Perth, where we have friends and relations, Darwin, Uluru (Ayers Rock), Cairns, Brisbane and the Gold Coast. Timings, activities, etc. are still up in the air. Of course I am going to try to set up book events along the way. The only fixed point is to be in Sydney by 2 PM on 14 April to start the long flights home.

As plans get more firm, I will keep you posted. I will tell you about the other very different trip in the next blog entry.

A small reunion of pilgrims in Ottawa

I had the most amazing experience yesterday late in the day. In Ottawa I attended and participated in an informal discussion with a small group of “caminoholics”, a group of pilgrims and people interested in the camino de Santiago. It was organized by Dr. Lesley Harman, a professor at King’s College, London and featured a reunion of several of the people with whom she walked the camino two years ago. Her fellow pilgrims included a woman from Toronto (not so far), a woman from Sweden and another from Germany (quite a bit farther) and a man from Brisbane, Australia (about as far away as you can get). Other pilgrims there were from Ottawa (four or five of us).

What was amazing were the stories of transformation that each had to tell, based on their experiences of trial and generosity while on the camino. One person spoke of a very difficult and bitter divorce, which was changed into a relationship of mutual respect after completing the camino. Two women spoke of their deep, deep fears about walking alone and how they overcame them when they realized that “we are never alone”, as they put it. Remarkably, only one, as far as I could tell, of the pilgrims was religious, and several made the clear point that they were not religious, but were transformed spiritually as a result of their camino experience.

It was almost cultish, the depth of openness and feeling of shared humanity that was clear as some of us talked about specific experiences on the camino. The sense of emotional bonding was quite remarkable. It seems as if the camino changes all of us in ways that we did not expect.

I gave a copy of my book, A Journey of Days, to Lesley Harman, who is completing and self-publishing her own book We Are Never Alone, this fall. She says that she won’t read it until she has completed her own manuscript. I also offered any help that I can give her with the final stages of her book. I also gave a copy to the Australian, Simon from near Brisbane, because I want him to seek out the Aussies from Brisbane who celebrated arriving in Santiago with me in late May of 2007. Their names and a group photo are in the book, so he may be able to track them down. I have had no success yet but am hopeful that he may be able to succeed where I did not.

Another bucket list check-off!

Yesterday I did something that I have wanted to do for years. I went to the Aerial Park at Camp Fortune, just outside Ottawa, and spent a couple of hours off the ground (mostly), clambering over a man-made obstacle course and zipping down zip-lines suspended under a pulley, with nothing but my gloved hand as a brake! It was a lovely day, Carroll was away for the day at a sewing course and I was supposed to be gardening. I looked at the weather, then called my daughter Meredith and asked her if she wanted to go as well. She was working on a proposal, but she relented and off we went, about a 45-minute drive from where we live.

Finding Camp Fortune was easy, it’s well-signed from the highway. Finding the Aerial Park was remarkably difficult. You would think that since the operators of Camp Fortune are advertising it, they would make an effort to provide guidance as to where it is. No such luck. After several stops at what appeared to be promising locations, asking questions of mountain bikers getting ready to test themselves and after driving past a half-barred gate, we finally found it, a little building in the woods with a gaggle of young girls excitedly chattering, half in and half out of the door. They are a Gloucester girl’s hockey team, with a couple of their coaches, and they are all 11 to 13 years old. Noisy, excited, fun to be near.

There are several options and I propose to do the shortest one, but the guy selling the tickets tells me that it is more difficult, so I buy the 2 ½ hour options instead. Meredith and I (as well as the whole hockey team) get fitted out with a step-in harness with two carabineers and a pulley device, all on short (30 inch) straps fastened to our harness. We also get sturdy gloves. Mine are large, Meredith’s are worn. We trek off up a long uphill road through the woods in the bright sunlight, following our two guides, a girl and a guy, young people, clearly bilingual. Makes sense, we are in Quebec, after all. When we get to the start point, we get a rather cursory safety briefing. Once we start up the ladder, one of the carabineers must be hooked to a safety line at all times. It’s exactly the same rule as using a safety harness on a sailboat. Not much good if it’s not hooked to anything. The guides will not be doing the course with us; they hang around below in case anyone gets into trouble, drops a glove, anything like that. They do not explain what happens if you slip and fall, nor do they explain anything about the course itself. So up we go.

They let Meredith and me go ahead of the young ladies of Gloucester. Meredith starts up the first ladder. It’s about seven metres (20 feet) up. The ladder steps are roughly squared-off poles of wood about a half-metre (18 inches) apart, attached firmly on either side to a slack wire, so that the whole thing resembles a narrow portion of a landing net. It is hard to climb, since it sways and turns as you climb. Only one person at a time on the ladder, for obvious reasons. Once I get up to the platform, a ring around a tree trunk, there is the first obstacle run. It is a bridge, made up of short narrow planks, fastened on either side to tight wires. Above our heads are three wire lines. Two are hand-hold lines, the third centre one is coated in heavy red plastic and is our safety line. Both carabineers on the line, one from each side for additional safety. This obstacle is pretty easy … and of course, there is a little girl 60 years my junior, right on my tail!

The next several get trickier. A more difficult one has a set of single logs end to end, around 10 centimetres (4 inches) in diameter and three metres (10 feet) long, roughly squared, suspended at each end from an overhead cable and separated from each other by a gap of 15 to 20 centimetres (6 to 8 inches). There is also only one cable overhead for a handhold, plus, of course, the ubiquitous red safety cable. Another demanding one has two cables at shoulder height with slack cable loops suspended from them. The loops are about 60 centimetres (24 inches) apart and you have to step from one loop to the next.

Finally our first zip-line, pretty tame. Hook on the pulley, hook the two carabineers on the cable behind it, put one hand (your weaker hand – the one you don’t write with, they have explained) on top of the pulley device and use your other hand behind the pulley as a brake if needed. I sit on the edge of the platform, all hooked up and let myself slide off the edge. The pulley takes the weight and along the line I descend to the other end of the zip-line. On this one, no braking is needed and we end up at ground level. Then on to the next set of obstacles.

The first set was just a warm-up, it seems. The ladder is about twice as high and the obstacles are more – sometimes much more – difficult. The slack cable obstacle cables are much farther apart. The bridge logs are angled, each log in the single log traverse is also angled, so it becomes a math problem. Where do you put your feet so that the log you are on does not sway away from the log you need to get to? All of this about 10 metres (30 feet) in the air, certainly enough to seriously hurt yourself if you fall and have not clipped yourself in correctly. Talk about being in the now! Every ounce of concentration is focused on getting yourself safely and without incident or the ultimate embarrassment of falling off the obstacle, to the next safe platform.

The next zip-line is quite a bit longer, but we’ve got the hang of it now. As I approach the lower end, I realize that I am going to need some braking – either now, with my right hand or in just a few moments with my whole body, leading with my face against the tree.

We skip several more obstacles and go right to the best part – four consecutive long zip-lines that take us back to where we started well over an hour ago. Another guide comes along with us and precedes us on the zip-lines. He obviously loves it; hooks himself up then runs and leaps off the platform. He spins around and side to side as he speeds down the wire, fast enough so that he contacts a tree just off the line of the wire. Well, I won’t do that today! Meredith goes first, then once she is clear at the lower end, I step off and accelerate down the wire. She has not needed to brake much, if at all, but my heavier mass makes me go a LOT faster and I realize as I near the lower end that this could really hurt if I don’t slow down. Major pressure with the right hand – good thing we have these heavy-duty gloves – slows me down enough so that I can stand when I reach the next lower platform. She tells me that the whole platform and tree shook unpleasantly as I headed down the zip-line and asks me to confirm with her that she is ready before I step off into space.

One of the zip-lines takes us over the road that we walked up. This one, the guide warned us, is a slacker line so the last bit is uphill. If you brake too soon, you will end up having to haul yourself up to the next platform while suspended beneath the wire. Meredith gets it exactly right. Again, I don’t brake at all until, again, I realize that I am going to smack the tree with sufficient force to make me wish I hadn’t. These little physics lessons help clarify the difference between mass and weight. The weight is suspended, so is effectively zero, but the mass doesn’t change and that is what is trying to propel me at speed into the lower station.

The last zip-line is a little one that puts us on a wooden ramp right outside the building. We take off our harnesses and our gloves, drop them in the box provided and head back in the car to the city and our various obligations. It’s a great way to get away from your usual life, and it certainly makes you focus on the here and now. If you have trouble doing that, try an hour or two at an aerial park. It’s a demanding physical challenge, as well as a mental one. Good luck!

The Mysteries of Marketing

What’s been occupying me lately is the puzzle about how to market my book, A Journey of Days. It looks as if word-of-mouth is the most effective method, but the trick is how to get people to talk about the book. I thought, rather naively, that the local media, such as the Ottawa Citizen, would be happy to review the book. You know, new local author and all. The book editor told me that he would absolutely NOT review it. “The Camino has been done to death. Besides, Sibley wrote all about it in the Citizen.” So it’s been a long struggle to get it in front of the reading, viewing or listening public. Leanne Cusack helped with an early TV interview for CTV, as did Derick Fage and TL Rader of Rogers TV Daytime show. Still waiting for Oprah, though.

One of the really strange dichotomies that I find about the book marketing world is that, while I have a huge emotional commitment to the content of the book that I wrote, to the book marketing world, it’s just another box of cornflakes. What I mean is that a book to book WRITERS and READERS is a strange and wonderful method to communicate feelings, sometimes intimate and thoughts, sometimes profound, over time and distance. To the large book marketer it’s just a commodity: saleable when fresh, discounted when stale and returned to the publisher when no longer useful. Perhaps that’s a little unfair, because most people at the book retail end, certainly the independents, are deeply devoted to their books and their authors.  Many of them have been extremely supportive of my efforts. The box stores? I’m not so sure. They are much more driven by the bottom line.

It’s a very good book, judging by the reader reviews that it’s been getting on Chapters.ca and on Amazon.com, as well as the many personal emails and letters. What I find fascinating is how people respond to what I wrote through their own filters. People see in it feelings, views and ideas that resonate with their own. I have excerpted these reviews in the Review section of my website.

One of the very satisfying personal things that I have been doing is reading for a half-hour each Thursday at noon to day hospice patients at the Hospice at May Court. I love seeing and hearing their reactions as I read my story to them. I look forward to this half-hour all week.

I am off in a couple of days from Ottawa to Toronto to deliver a presentation at the Mountain Equipment Co-op store at 400 King ST E in Toronto. One of their staff members heard me deliver a presentation to the Toronto Chapter of the Canadian Company of Pilgrims on March 7th. He liked it so much he asked if I would come to the store and speak about the Camino to the staff. He said that there is a lot of customer interest in the camino but not much staff knowledge. The presentation is intended to help fix that problem. I am looking forward to it because I love watching the audience reaction and responding to the questions … and always some members of the audience want to buy a book!

I have been playing with ideas about posters. I have made up several 20” by 30 “ posters for in-store events, such as book signings, but my impression is that people who walk by are so used to brightly coloured advertising that they don’t even see it. So I have made up a a couple of new ones. The first is white lettering on a stark black background and reads: “WARNING. The surgeon-general advises that reading A Journey of Days may be addictive. Even brief exposure to A Journey of Days may cause you to spend much more time in the now and lead to powerful urges to follow your dreams.”

The second is also white lettering on a very dark background. It shows the cover of The Power of Now and the cover of A Journey of Days below it. The text reads: “If you liked The Power of Now you will love A Journey of Days.” This is based on several comments linking the two books and one specific review. I hope the linkage attracts attention since the Power of Now has done extremely well! I will try these out next week at MEC in Toronto and look for feedback on them. I am confident that, at some point, we will hit the tipping point and the book will take off. I only hope that it’s soon (or at leats sooner rather than later. I dislike the concept of posthumous success!

Of dogs and people

Have you ever speculated about the symbiotic relationship between dogs and their “owners”? I put owners in quotes because I am very suspicious about the actual relationship and I see the term “owners” as a product of rampant species-ism. This is because we humans can write and dogs can’t … or won’t.

I know on the surface of appearances that it is clear that humans own dogs. We put a collar around their necks, attach a leash to it and then require the dog to go with us whenever we want to go out. But let us examine this relationship a little more closely.

Have you noticed, for example, that outside of the home the dog gets to urinate and defecate pretty well anywhere, then the other party to this relationship cleans up the mess, depositing dog poop into a little bag and carting it away for sanitary disposal? Is this the attribute of an owner or of a devoted servant, and a rather low-level one, at that?

Other examples: Dogs get groomed endlessly by the humans they live with. In every other species, grooming is done by the subservient animal to the dominant one. Why do we think that we are different? Dogs get fed by humans. The human creates the meal, then puts it in front of the dog for its enjoyment. In human to human relationships, the one serving the meal is the subservient member of the group, the one being fed is the dominant one.

So why do we think that we “own” dogs? Isn’t it more accurate to say that they own us?

What’s Reality?

Each of us … well, me … has a belief that the reality that we experience is real. I “know”, because I experience it in all its colours and flavours, smells, sounds and textures, that my reality in my universe is absolutely real. Proving this, however, gets a little tricky. If other people’s reality differs from ours, theirs must therefore be unreal. I have heard reality defined as “shared illusion”. Interesting concept, that.

If one reads Donald Hoffmann’s “Visual Intelligence ” (Hoffman, Donald, Visual Intelligence, W.W. Norton & Company, New York, NY, 1998) one discovers that our brain creates what we see as we see it. He makes a really convincing case, too. In a nutshell, and if I get this right, everything we “see” is a two-dimensional layer at the surface of the eye, that is then transmitted to the brain via the retina and there and only then interpreted. We are so good and fast at this that we do not perceive the effect, but it’s there. People who are blind from birth do not ever develop this interpretive skill, but the rest of us do. People who regain vision later in life have to learn to see, just as we all do. He gives examples of when this does not work as planned; people who can not see colour in the left half of the range, but can in the right half . This permanent loss was caused by a concussion. How about someone who cannot “see” motion? Seems counter-intuitive, but a woman who had a stroke discovered to her horror, that she could not do simple task such as pouring a cup of coffee because the fluid appeared to be frozen. Cars on the road suddenly became closer without any visual movement, although the sound of motion was normal, as was the feel of something moving on her skin. So she could see things, but she could not see their motion. Doesn’t sound possible, does it? What happens when people don’t see what is right in front of them?

A few days ago my wife Carroll was driving to an appointment. Part of the route crosses a single line railway crossing that we both thought was not in active use. As she approached the track she looked both ways then proceeded to cross it. She just about jumped out of her skin when the engine, a short distance away, blew its whistle. It was moving slowly but steadily towards the level crossing. How could she have missed it? She did not believe that the railway was in active use, so when she looked, although her eye clearly picked up the very large engine, her brain did not process the information. She told me later that, when she thought back to the moment just before the whistle, she had actually “seen” the train in her peripheral vision, but not when she looked directly at it. Her reality did not include the possibility of a train on that track, so the brain ignored the signals from the retina. I am very glad that the engine was moving slowly and sufficiently far away. I almost killed a motorcyclist one day because I did not see him, although he was in plain view. I looked both ways, then pulled out almost directly in front of him. Apparently I was looking for anything the size of a car. Smaller just didn’t get “seen”. Happily he was more road aware than I and was able to avoid me, although he was not happy with my actions.

There are other common examples of this phenomenon. Writers routinely have someone else proofread their material, because they know that after having created the original manuscript and having checked it over several times, they can no longer “see” what they have written on the page. The brain sees what it expects to see, not what is actually there. The discipline of software quality assurance uses this feature of met expectations to help find software errors. Originally, software quality assurance was accomplished by checking the code to see IF there were any errors. This method often failed to find rather obvious errors which showed up later in the process, which meant that they were more expensive and time-consuming to fix. So the mindset – the reality, if you will – was deliberately changed. Now software quality assurance is done by looking at the software with a critical eye. The assumption is that there ARE errors; it is the task of the QA person to find them. This change takes advantage of the human propensity to see what we believe is there. If you believe there are errors, you are much more likely to find them. I used this approach in a contract for the feds some years ago, and it was very successful in finding errors.

It gets even more complicated. How about what we feel? People who have lost parts of their body often complain about “phantom pain”. Chapter 7 of Visual Intelligence makes sense of this phenomenon. Just as we create what we see on the fly, so do we create what we feel. So what we “see” and what we “feel”, everything that we know through our senses is a construct of our brain. All of this makes the concept of “reality” a little suspect. People who have what we refer to as schizophrenia have different realities than the rest of us around them. I have just realized that I hereby categorize myself as “normal”. They hear voices that we don’t, they tell us stories about their reality that we scoff at or listen to while withholding judgment, but to them, their reality is just as real and as compelling as ours is to us. And, like the rest of us, they act within the parameters of their reality, sometimes doing enormous harm to themselves and others. They can be a danger because others don’t share, and don’t understand, their reality. Reread “Horton Hears a Who” with this in the back of your mind. It will give you a new appreciation for those whose reality is different from ours.

Another challenging book, Douglas Hofstadter’s “I am a Strange Loop” ,(Hofstadter, Douglas, I am a Strange Loop, Basic Books, New York, NY, 2007) postulates that what we think of as our selves, our mind, is not actually anything at all. He argues that it is an accretion of concepts that start at birth and accumulate throughout our life. He positions us midway on the vast scale of size, from cosmic to quantum physics: “Poised midway between the unvisualizable cosmic vastness of curved spacetime and the dubious, shadowy flickerings of charged quanta, we human beings, more like rainbows and mirages rather than like raindrops or boulders, are unpredictable self-writing poems – vague, metaphorical, ambiguous, and sometimes exceedingly beautiful”.

What if I were to propose that everything that I perceive, everything that I know, the entire universe as I understand it, is a creation of my brain, that there is actually nothing out there at all. I have made this all up, including you, my reader? Can you prove me wrong? If you argue that this is not possible because you are reading what I have written and therefore my solo reality is untrue, my counter argument is that this is your solo reality in which I have written something that you are reading and that I only exist in your solo reality. Is this scary to you?

What about the easily refuted argument that everyone knows some specific and obvious concept? The world used to be flat. Everyone knew that . Just look around us. It’s flat, flat, flat. OK, a little hilly and wet in places, but definitely not round. Now we all … or almost all … know that the world is a round ball. (Except for those of us who know that it is round, but flat, like a coin.) But how many of us have been in space to see the earth as a round ball? Only a handful of astronauts, so the rest of us are taking it on faith. Similarly, everyone in France knew that Dreyfuss was guilty of treason, until everyone knew that he was not .

Creationism versus evolution – two strongly held beliefs, of which only one (at best) can be right. Which of these is reality … if either is? I happen to fall on the evolutionary side of this fence, but that is my belief. It doesn’t make it true, just because I believe it. It’s just that the case and evidence for evolution seems to me to make a lot more sense than the case, as I understand it, for creationism. And let’s not even get into intelligent design.

How about a big one – believer versus atheist? To me, one can no more prove the existence of God than one can prove his (her, it’s?) non-existence. In both options, faith is a major factor. But both sides act as if their belief is true, sometimes with wonderful and compassionate results, sometimes with murderous outcomes.

But the real issue is, so what? Whether reality and the universe is a creation only of our own minds, or it is an external reality that we perceive through our admittedly deceptive senses, does it matter? If we are nothing more than accumulations of sub-atomic mindless particles, does it matter? If we are bits of star dust, does it matter? It surely does. If it is our individual creation, then we have a right to have it work exactly the way we want. We need not care for or about others, since they are only our creations. We can live a truly hedonistic life, taking, not giving, enjoying all the material pleasures that the world (that we created) offers. Is this the origin of the American dream? Or we can seek absolute power – I think of Genghis Khan, Napoleon, Hitler, Stalin, Mao Tse-Tung, Pol Pot, Robert Mugabe, who each treated people with contempt in their search for absolute power. We can seek enormous wealth, and many do. We can seek fame, many do and some achieve their 15 minutes of fame, for what it’s worth.

The problem with each of these options is that it seems to me that the practitioners are missing something. If they were not missing something, why would they apparently never achieve what it is they are after – total hedonism, total power, total wealth, vast fame? Since they never stop seeking, it follows that they are never satisfied. To me, that says that these are inadequate goals. So even if it is an artificially created world in which we exist, the way to meet our individual needs is not to try for total anything. It seems to me that a life of giving, of helping others, of making a positive difference in the world, of seeking to better understand the “reality” in which we exist, is ultimately much more satisfying. And isn’t satisfaction what we are all after?