The Best Time of Day is Right Now

 Ruby & Herschel snuggle on the bed.
Image copyright Zoe Weil.

Every night when I climb into bed, our dogs and cat are already there or quickly join me. Elsie snuggles up on the pillows; Hershel scratches and chews on the blanket (naughty dog!), excited that we’re all together to turn in after another good day, and Ruby splays herself out, taking up as much room as possible (sigh). Sir Simon, our cat, walks up to my head and meows, asking me to lift up the covers so he can climb under them for about 10 minutes before he scoots out to sleep on the foot of the bed. I feel such a sense of joy each night when I get into bed. And I think to myself, “This is the best part of every day.”

Then I wake up, and as I’m coming to consciousness – awake but not yet mobile – Elsie immediately either jumps on the bed, or if she’s spent the whole night with us, scoots up so that her face is inches from mine. She stares into my eyes and puts a paw on my arm as if to say, “Good morning.” And good it is, waking up to Elsie, as well as to the curled up fluffball Hershel and our sprawled out silky Ruby. And I think to myself, “This is the best part of every day.”

As I reflect upon these thoughts, I realize that the best time of the day is the one right now, if only I can just live with as much appreciation, love, and gratitude as I do each morning and night.

~ Zoe

Zoe Weil, President, Institute for Humane Education
Author of Most Good, Least Harm, Above All, Be Kind, and The Power and Promise of Humane Education
My TEDxConejo talk: “Solutionaries”
My TEDxDirigo talk: “The World Becomes What You Teach
My TEDxYouth@BFS “Educating for Freedom”

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Saying Yes to No Regrets

Image courtesy of ancient history
via Creative Commons.

Sometimes I regret the things I do. Far more often I regret the things I don’t do. And so I’ve encouraged myself to say yes to things, even when I think my proverbial plate is full.

I used to have a rule about traveling for work: no more than one week per month; more than that and I would start to feel overwhelmed. But since my first TEDx talk came out two years ago, I’ve been invited to speak in various and far flung places far more frequently than once a month. I do still have my limits, but I’ve stretched them and have found that as long as I stay in the present moment and don’t think ahead (or go over in my mind how many different cities I’ll be in each month), I do fine.

And I try to do the same at home, too, by saying yes to opportunities to adventure more, connect more, and experience more. But when evening rolls around and I’m warm and cozy next to my husband on the couch, it takes a lot to rouse me to adventure. And so in a subtle way I say no quite often. I live at the Institute for Humane Education, which is situated on 28 acres on Patten Bay in coastal Maine. It takes only 10 minutes to walk to the ocean, but I seldom venture out at night, except in summer, even though that’s when I’m most likely to see wildlife, hear owls, and have the chance to marvel at the stars and glimpse a meteor.

Tonight, after dinner, my husband noticed just how bright it was outside. Yesterday was our first snowfall of the season. The full moon was rising and the house cast a shadow on the white snow. I knew this was a night I had to say yes to.

So picture this: every fairy tale, every children’s picture book of woods and meadows under a moonlit night; a world that looks as if diamond dust were strewn upon every inch so that each step becomes a kaleidoscope of sparkles; shadows so distinct that you could cut them out like paper dolls; deep snow, tiring to traverse, the effort keeping you warm on the cold night; the path in the woods, normally wide, now a maze from laden branches bowed down; ducking under spruce boughs so heavy with snow they form caves and igloos; coming back upon the meadow on the return and having it feel like a sports arena at night, blazed with light.

Now imagine how you would feel on such a walk on a moonlit night in winter.

Saying yes to opportunities and adventures, as well as to the discomfort and effort such yeses often bring, is my way of saying yes to awe, love, joy, purpose, and ultimately life. It’s my way of ensuring I live with few regrets.

~ Zoe

Zoe Weil, President, Institute for Humane Education
Author of Most Good, Least Harm, Above All, Be Kind, and The Power and Promise of Humane Education
My TEDxConejo talk: “Solutionaries”
My TEDxDirigo talk: “The World Becomes What You Teach
My TEDxYouth@BFS “Educating for Freedom”

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We Don’t Need More Gandhis – We Need More People Acting on Their Ideas

Image courtesy of six million dollar dan
via Creative Commons.

Note: Zoe is on vacation, so please enjoy this repost from 6/3/09.. 

In my book, Most Good, Least Harm, I share stories of individuals who’ve created positive change through volunteerism, philanthropy, innovation, entrepreneurship, and activism. When I lead MOGO workshops, I invite participants to consider the ideas of a few individuals who’ve made a difference for others and to imagine their own ideas. We all have them. Unfortunately, they may lie below the surface, seemingly inaccessible. Perhaps as children we were told our ideas were impractical, or we were humored, cute creators of finger paintings and crayon drawings, instead of encouraged to be real visionaries.

I remember a pivotal moment in my childhood when an adult took my ideas seriously. My best friend, Robin, her brother, Tory, and I, would often play together as children. Robin and Tory’s father was Victor Kiam, entrepreneur and businessman. Victor became well known as the man who liked Remington shavers so much that he bought the company (Remember those commercials? “Shaves as close as a blade or your money back.”). But, before Remington, Victor ran other businesses. Robin, Tory and I liked to create skits and commercials, and Victor encouraged us to come up with ideas for a commercial for his company. He wasn’t just indulging us. He was serious. I truly believed that if we came up with something really good, he’d truly consider using it. I felt empowered and appreciated. I knew my ideas mattered.

My own father was also a businessman. And he was one of the best, kindest, loving men I’ve ever known. I adored him, and 24 years after his early death, I still miss him terribly. When I was little, he sometimes took me to work with him. He was the vice president of a textile company, and it was so much fun to hang out in the art room where artists designed the fabrics. I got to paint to my heart’s content, and I was often very excited to show my dad my work. I asked if he’d ever consider using my art. I was indulged and humored, but the truth was I knew that my art would never make it onto a pillowcase. Now, my father wasn’t the president of his company as Victor was, so he may not have been able to offer his daughter the possibility of such an achievement, but there was something deeply disappointing in knowing that there was no chance, no matter how good my work, that it would be welcomed in this world of commerce.

How many of us have come to believe we have no real ideas or products of merit, nothing within us to lead, to create real change? I recently gave a MOGO talk, and afterward a woman told me that she felt a bit depressed afterward. “We can’t all be like you,” she expressed. “I’m not Gandhi.”

Well, I’m sure no Gandhi either, but that’s not what the world needs. We don’t need more Gandhis; we need more people who believe in their capacity to bring their creativity to light and manifest their ideas. We need more people who, as children, were given the gift of knowing that their ideas – if good – could be made real.

You have dozens of ideas, maybe below the surface just waiting for a bit of excavation. Dig in. What ideas do you have? Make them real. Make just one of them real. It matters that you do.

For a humane world,

Zoe Weil, President, Institute for Humane Education
Author of Most Good, Least Harm, Above All, Be Kind, and The Power and Promise of Humane Education
My TEDx talk: “The World Becomes What You Teach

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Resisting the Urge

Image courtesy of Mel B via Creative Commons.

I was in a tiny, cramped thrift shop in New York City last weekend, and a woman in the shop was talking loudly on her cell phone with a thick New York accent. She was sharing the kind of personal information one doesn’t usually broadcast, probably not realizing that she was indeed broadcasting it because her voice was so loud. I found myself amused enough to think, “That would be a good addition to share in my 1-woman show” (the U.S. debut of which is Thursday, May 10).

Later, I found myself starting to write a wall post on Facebook about what I’d heard her say, because it was funny. Right before I posted it, however, I thought better of it. What value will this have in the world?, I thought to myself. None, really. And so I resisted the urge to post it.

Then today I read this quote by Eleanor Roosevelt:

“Great minds discuss ideas; average minds discuss events; small minds discuss people.”

May each of us spend more time striving to share important ideas and less time sharing gossip. May each of us resist the urge to write and speak those things that really aren’t of value and commit to writing and speaking those things that will contribute in a positive way. And may I heed my own suggestion.

For a humane world,

Zoe Weil, President, Institute for Humane Education
Author of Most Good, Least Harm, Above All, Be Kind, and The Power and Promise of Humane Education
My TEDx talk: “The World Becomes What You Teach

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When Desire and Will Compete

Note: This is a repost from 10/19/2009. Enjoy!

I was reading an excellent essay by Eknath Easwaran in the Blue Mountain Journal, titled “Will and Desire.” He begins:

“Desire is the key to life, because desire is power. The deeper the desire, the more power it contains.”

The Upanishads say:

“You are what your deep, driving desire is. As your deep, driving desire is, so is your will. As your will is, so is your deed. As your deed is, so is your destiny.”

Ah, but we are filled with such conflicting desires! And the strongest-willed among us, those who might become dedicated changemakers, leaders, visionaries, and doers, may also be those who are driven to fulfill desires that do not further a better world. What do industrial tycoons and Mahatma Gandhi have in common? Powerful wills to achieve their passionate desires.

As Easwaran’s excellent article explored, our desires are manifold and our will to manifest them a double-edged sword. He quotes the Bhagavad Gita: “The will is our only enemy; the will is our only friend.” As someone who has been accused of being strong-willed since I was a little child, I know this well. My strong will made me a challenging child to raise because I was endlessly attached to my desires and often inflexible. Yet, my strong will also became my great ally in achieving my goals and living according to my principles.

Making MOGO (most good) choices in our lives requires a strong will. Inevitably we will have conflicting desires. We may desire a certain food or product that is produced inhumanely or unsustainably. We may desire certain pleasures that have negative effects upon other species, other people, and the environment. We may also deeply desire a life of integrity and purpose and the unfolding of a peaceful, restored, and compassionate world. These desires may compete, and this is where we must harness our will.

Recognizing the range and breadth of our desires allows us to focus on those that are aligned with our values and pursue these with tenacious wills while acknowledging, but not indulging, those desires that don’t ultimately serve our greatest goals and the world we hope to create.

This is no easy task. But the very struggle can be rewarding, because when we wrestle with our desires and direct our will consciously, we create more freedom in our lives – freedom from the incessant pursuit of pleasure; freedom to create the lives we want most; freedom from advertising, peer and societal pressures; freedom to choose with wisdom and compassion.

What is your greatest desire? Your most fervent hope? Harness your will towards this end.

For a humane world,

Zoe Weil, President, Institute for Humane Education
Author of Most Good, Least Harm, Above All, Be Kind, and The Power and Promise of Humane Education
My TEDx talk: “The World Becomes What You Teach

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My Overflowing Garden

Last weekend I faced the reality of my garden. I had food enough to feed a village, at least if the menu was zucchini and cucumbers. My husband and I gathered boxes and baskets, and after several back breaking trips filled his car to take them to the food pantry after offering some to his coworkers.

How had I allowed this to happen? Why had I tended my garden, weeded and watered, put in so many hours, just to grow food I would never eat? My family doesn’t even like zucchini! Cucumbers are always good for pickles if you can’t eat them all fresh, but I’d already made 18 jars, and enough is enough. We gathered several more overstuffed bags of cucumbers growing monstrously large even after pickling those 18 jars a few weeks ago.

I think the reason I grew so much this year was because last year the garden was a fiasco. After just as much care and tending and hours weeding, the tomatoes got some sort of fungus, as did the potatoes; the corn crop was destroyed by an animal in a single night; the brussells sprouts never amounted to more than little bumps; the squash vines died from squash beetles, and my dog ate the asparagus as fast as it poked through the ground. I was determined that this year would be different. I planted zucchini not because I like it, but because zucchini grows no matter what, and I just wanted to produce food, even if that included food that I don’t much enjoy. And boy was it the year for food. This hot summer produced the biggest bounty ever, including a beet bigger than my head (but which I’ll thoroughly enjoy in a borscht extravanganza).

What lesson did I learn? I hope I learned to stop planting foods I do not eat, but I suspect I’ll forget this lesson. Oh, I learned it for next summer, but there will always be years of lack, and I’ll likely respond to those summers the way I did this year. And then I’ll put in hours of time gathering food to give away to others. I guess that’s not so bad. Maybe it’s even MOGO.

Zoe Weil, author of Most Good, Least Harm

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Damselflies Revisited

In a previous post, “Altruism v. Rape,” I wrote about damselflies appearing to rescue other damselflies who had fallen into the water. Since writing that blog, I have observed this behavior again. Specifically, I saw a damselfly drowning in the pond and at least a half dozen other damselflies were flying to attach onto this one struggling insect and lift it out of the water. Despite repeated and persistent efforts, none were able to lift the damselfly to safety. They tried for quite some time. When they were unsuccessful, I intervened and rescued the damselfly myself. After a few minutes of drying off on my hand, the damselfly flew off.

This was a young damselfly, not yet colored, so I doubt very much whether the attempts to attach were for the purpose of mating. To my untrained eye, it appeared to be even more evidence of altruistic behavior.

Zoe Weil
Author of Most Good, Least Harm

Image courtesy of HaPe_Gera via Creative Commons.

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Being Right…Or Not

The other morning I took a walk along the rocky beach by our house. I sat on a rock for awhile watching what I thought was a seal sunning herself on a rock with a crow standing by her. But after a very long time with only the crow moving, and not the seal, I decided that I was watching a crow by a rock atop a rock, rather than a seal. But then the seal moved, and I realized that I’d been right the first time, only now I realized there was no crow. The movement of the “crow” had actually been the movement of the seal’s head, which was darker than her body. Are you with me?

We’re so sure of ourselves. So sure we’re right. And when we change our minds, we’re sure we’re right about that, too. And then when we’re shown to be wrong, we blithely accept our mistake, and we’re sure we’re right the next time.

The nice thing about the MOGO (Most Good) principle is that you never have to be right; you just have to persevere, commit to the 3 I’s of inquiry, introspection, and integrity and make choices that do the most good and the least harm to the best of your ability. It’s quite a relief to know that with MOGO as a guide you can choose differently tomorrow based on new information and deeper reflection. It’s also a relief to know that every person offers you the possibility to learn anew so that your choices can become even more MOGO. And finally, it’s a relief to know that while you won’t always be right, you’ll always be good.

~ Zoe Weil,
Author of Most Good, Least Harm

Note: I’m busy getting ready for our Summer Institute, so this is a repost from 4/25/08. Enjoy!

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Detroit Airport Friday vs. Sunday

Last Friday night I was traveling to Minneapolis for the Their Lives, Our Voices conference. I had a tight connection in Detroit, and the forecast called for thunderstorms in both Detroit and Minneapolis. I was worried. But it was beautiful in Bangor, so I began to feel more confident about everything staying on schedule. Then a fuel sensor was broken on the plane, and we were delayed out of Bangor for an hour. We arrived in Detroit 25 minutes before my next plane was scheduled to take off.

Carrying my luggage, my props for my talks, and my way-too-heavy computer, I ran from the farthest most gate in terminal C to my connecting gate on the far end of terminal A. I knew that if I didn’t make the flight, chances were that I wouldn’t make it to Minneapolis in time for my keynote address first thing in the morning. There was a pregnant woman on my first flight also trying to make the flight to Minneapolis, and I promised to let them know she was on her way if the doors to the plane were still open, as I knew I’d get there first. Fortunately, when I arrived at the gate, albeit drenched with sweat, they were still boarding, and I was able to get on the plane. However, because they had switched airplanes and the new one was smaller, everyone in rows 42 and higher was bumped off the flight. I was lucky my seat was in row 22, and I felt for the other passengers who wouldn’t be able to make it to Minneapolis that night. Just as I was boarding, I saw the pregnant woman. They’d bumped her off the flight because they assumed she wouldn’t make it due to the delay in the first flight. She pointed me out to them, saying I was on the same flight and they were letting me on. At that point, I decided I couldn’t get involved and risk being bumped off myself. I dashed onto the plane, hoping for the best for this woman, but doing nothing to assist her. When I saw her board the plane, I was relieved. She said that being pregnant had its perks; she used her pregnancy to convince them to let her on.

Thirty-six hours later, I was returning home, and my layover in Detroit was 3.5 hours. I felt stress-free. I took my time finding a place to get a vegan meal and was delighted to find an actual peanut butter and jelly restaurant. Then I stopped at a store to buy a new pair of reading glasses because mine had broken on the first flight. When I paid the cashier he told me he was heartbroken. “Why? I asked. “Because I had my ten minute break, and I went to get a Frappuccino, and the line at Starbucks was too long so I couldn’t get it.” I offered to get it for him, and off I went, still carrying all my luggage, but without any need to hurry. He was very happy when I brought it to him, and he shared that after his shift was over he had to be at another job at midnight. He had really needed that pick-me-up.

I decided to treat myself to a back massage at the Detroit aiport “spa” because my neck and shoulders hurt a lot after the breakneck run with my computer and luggage on Friday. The woman who was giving the massage was so stressed out. Her electricity had gotten turned off at home, and she was unable to reach an actual person at the utility company, and she couldn’t receive calls at work, and she was running behind. She worried that her energy was so stressed it would impact my massage, but I reassured her and just let her vent. At the end of the massage she told me she felt so much better and was really grateful to me because I’d made her feel so much calmer.

On Friday night, I wouldn’t have stopped to help a soul. I might have run right by a person who’d tripped, a child who was lost, or someone having a heart attack, just hoping another would help. On Sunday, I would probably have been available to help anyone I passed at the airport, open as I was in my stress-free state to see the people around me.

This reminds me that often, those people we think are inconsiderate, rude, or unhelpful may simply be very stressed, while those who are kind and compassionate may simply be in a space in which they can let these qualities shine. As Philo of Alexandria once said, “Be kind, for everyone is fighting a great battle.” I think this also means that we can be kind to ourselves when the battle we are fighting eclipses our own kindness and goodness. I was not especially kind to anyone on Friday, but I was kind on Sunday.

Zoe Weil
Author of Above All, Be Kind and Most Good, Least Harm

Image courtesy of indywriter via Creative Commons.

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New Year’s Resolution to Stop Complaining: Update #3

Believe it or not my inner complainer was in full bloom during a nine-day vacation in Belize. Yes, when I was at my most privileged – getting to snorkel and scuba dive at a remote atoll – I was complaining (and not always to myself!). So much for my New Year’s resolution. And what was my inner complainer harping upon? Mostly the weather (it was cloudy, cold and windy almost every day), but also the food (despite assurances, they did not have any vegetarian entrees, so I had a lot of mashed potatoes and coleslaw). I had one truly justifiable complaint – the owners of the island on which we stayed were nasty to their employees and treated them terribly disrespectfully – but really, the weather?

I think my inner complainer was so alive and active because of how many expectations I had wrapped up in the trip. I envisioned calm seas, sunny days, and warm weather during which I’d snorkel for hours. Normally, I don’t “look forward” to vacations, but this trip to Belize was fraught with hopes and dreams and visions of what it would be like. When my expectations weren’t met, I was disappointed.

This was such an important reminder to stay present, shelve expectations as they pop into my mind, and meet what appears in life with acceptance. My friend Erica, who had joined me on the trip, had such a good attitude. The “bad” weather didn’t bother her a bit. She was happy to knit if the weather was too cold and the seas too rough for snorkeling. I marveled at her lovely and impressive equanimity.

I need to work on my New Year’s resolution more resolutely, and I think that I’ll begin by focusing on what is most good, instead of what is most disappointing. This is a new twist on the MOGO principle that I would do well to cultivate. I think it’s also time to add to my New Year’s resolution not just a negative imperative (stop complaining) but a positive invitation (cultivate gratitude).

Please wish me fortitude and continued perseverance!

By the way, lest you think I was a grumpy complainer the whole trip, please stay tuned for more blog posts on the amazing and wonderful experiences I had in Belize.

Zoe Weil
Author of Most Good, Least Harm, Above All, Be Kind and Claude and Medea

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