It has happened every time. While each of Brené Brown’s books builds upon her earlier ones, and much information is repeated, each successive volume has brought me a great new gift. Each has brought me old gifts: reminders of the secrets I learned previously and perhaps lost sight of, or left unintegrated into my current life. And they bring me new gifts: truths I had not realized before, about human nature and about myself.

I would like to share the best new gift I received from reading Brown’s most recent book, Dare to Lead. It’s a research-based lesson about values, including instructions on figuring out what your own values are. Here’s some information that Brown shares about values:

“We have only one set of values. We don’t shift our values based on context. . . . The research participants who demonstrated the most willingness to rumble with vulnerability and practice courage tethered their behavior to one or two values, not ten.”*

One or two?! That’s not very many. Can you name your one or two core values, off the top of your head? I couldn’t. Sure, I could come up with ten or twenty values that I hold dear; but I had no idea which one or two of them I prioritized—or should prioritize, if I want to stay true to myself.

So Brown’s next move was helpful for me. She provides a list of dozens of values and encourages the reader to circle those to which he or she feels a particularly strong personal connection. I circled 17 of them. Then, she says, force yourself to select the one or two of these that are most essential to who you are. To my surprise, I immediately knew which two they were. It wasn’t nearly as hard as I thought it would be. Brown has posted her list of values online here. I invite you to take these steps for yourself, right now, before reading the rest of this blog post. (She welcomes you to write in your own values if you think of some you like better than the ones listed.)

Did you do it? Did you learn something about yourself? Here’s what Brown says she learned about herself upon doing the exercise (she always does what she asks her readers to do):

“My two central values are faith and courage. I hated not circling ‘family.’ But as I dug in, I realized that while my family is the most important thing in my life, my commitment to them is fueled by my faith and courage.”

Something similar happened to me. My two core values are truth and wisdom. I hated not circling “creativity.” But I realized that, for me, being creative is not an end in itself. I don’t engage in creative writing for its own sake, but in the service of truth and wisdom. (Another creative writer might feel differently about this, and that’s okay!) I also hated not circling “curiosity”—but again, my curiosity is due to my search for truth and wisdom, not the other way around.

It was also a profound experience to think about the difference between truth and wisdom. I truly could not choose one or the other of these values; for me, they are intertwined like yin and yang. Seeking the truth can be a lonely—even toxic—endeavor, if not tempered by wisdom. And seeking wisdom can lead one astray, if not tempered by truth. Truth is facts; wisdom is knowing how to act in light of those facts.

At this point in Dare to Lead, Brown provides further information about values, as well as more exercises for the reader to do. Her goal is to help the reader not only identify his or her one or two core values, but also act in ways that are consistent with those values. I found all of this immensely useful, as well: do check it out if you get a chance.

What are your one or two core values? Tell me which ones you selected, if you feel comfortable sharing them. I’m so curious to know which ones you chose!

*Rumble with vulnerability is Brené Brown-speak for having hard conversations in which you put yourself out there and express yourself honestly, while being openhearted and generous with your interlocutor(s).

It’s always interesting when you read something that corresponds so germanely to something that is happening in real life. I was recently talking to a wise friend of mine, who pointed out that every family has issues—even, or especially, the ones that seem perfect. No one should feel that their family is exceptionally messed up in comparison with other families, my friend said, because we all struggle. We may struggle in very different ways, but we all struggle.

Not long after having this conversation, I read this passage in the book Almost Everything by Anne Lamott:

“Almost everyone is screwed up, broken, clingy, scared, and yet designed for joy. Even (or especially) people who seem to have it more or less together are more like the rest of us than you would believe.”

All of this reminds me of Tolstoy’s maxim about happy and unhappy families. It’s true that, sometimes, everything falls into place and life rides along nicely. But this is very rare. It’s counterproductive, not to mention false, to assume that you are the exception if you or your family is going through a tough time. In reality, the exception that proves the rule is those few people and families who are right now, somehow, miraculously, doing well in every way.

In every way? That’s a heck of a lot of ways! Perfectionism highlights weaknesses while downplaying strengths, no matter how many strengths there are. So instead of counting up failings, let’s count up successes. Let’s count up the things we are doing well with right now—surely there are many, many things!—and be glad about those. If you need to wait for perfection in order to be happy . . . well, that could be a long, long wait.

Plus, you’ll have lots of company, here in the imperfection ring.

What are you and your family joyful about today?

Thanks to Masterpiece on PBS, I recently discovered and read an incredibly good novel. Written and set approximately 150 years ago, in the late 1800s, the book is about—as far as I can tell—Amazon.com.

But let me explain. I was browsing through my local brick-and-mortar book store, which fortunately still existed at that moment in time, for that was where I happened across a book with a cover featuring TV actors in period costume. As I am not a big watcher of TV or movies, such covers usually turn me off. However, this particular cover featured a famous name: Émile Zola.

Having never read anything by the great French writer Émile Zola, I impulsively snatched up the book, deciding, on the spot, that my acquaintance with this author could be delayed no longer. Truly, I couldn’t help it! Call it feminine weakness, if you will. Or, call it a helpless surrender to consumerist culture. In any case, there I was, inserting my credit card into a chip reader, in exchange for an exquisitely pretty paperback labelled The Paradise—but which I soon discovered was originally titled The Ladies’ Paradise.

In the novel, The Ladies’ Paradise is the name of a large store in Paris that is crushing the small businesses nearby. Women are nearly powerless before it: they roam its galleries in awe of the delicate merchandise, and they flock from within and outside of the city to purchase the fabrics and ready-made clothes on offer. Meanwhile, the mom-and-pop competition try to hold their own by adhering to old-fashioned values such as artistry, intimate knowledge of a particular trade and its goods, family-oriented service, and high prices that indicate value. Zola describes one small-business-owning family in this way:

“The Baudus were not a bad sort of people. But they complained of never having had any luck.”

That is—unluckily for them, most customers preferred cheaper prices, more spectacle and grandeur, and a wide and ever-increasing selection of merchandise.

“Had anyone ever seen such a thing?” Monsieur Baudu rants at one point. “A draper’s shop selling everything! Why not call it a bazaar at once? And the employees! . . . treating goods and customers like so many parcels . . . No affection, no manners, no taste!”

Sound familiar? Twenty-five years ago, had anyone ever heard of a bookstore selling everything?! Treating customers like so many shipping boxes?! No taste!!

Thus the wisdom of Zola was revealed to me; a 150-year-old story that resonates so well today must be describing some sort of universal theme. And best of all: the author does not take sides. He does not present big business owners as any better or worse than small business owners. He presents them all as humans making choices—and the moral is that those who obstinately refuse to adapt to changing times, and those who fail to actively, persistently work toward positive innovation, will suffer for their inflexibility, no matter who they are.

How do you handle the choice between shopping big and global, versus small and local? How do your favorite small businesses stay in the black—have they made innovations, or developed specialties, that enable them to compete successfully in a difficult marketplace? Have your favorite big businesses made innovations, or developed specialties, as well?

What do Immanuel Kant’s metaphysics and David Foster Wallace’s commencement speech at Kenyon College (known as the “This Is Water” speech) have in common?

Both of these famous philosophies, according to Matthew B. Crawford in his book The World Beyond Your Head, are faulty—and for the same reason.

It’s a bold claim. Crawford attempts to topple two towering figures of Western culture and thought in one fell swoop! So let’s back up a sec and analyze what Kant’s and Wallace’s philosophies, in these instances, are. Then we can delve into why Crawford thinks they are wrong.

Immanuel Kant’s Metaphysics of Freedom

Immanuel Kant (1724–1804) was a German philosopher famous for a philosophy called the categorical imperative. He states that morality exists beyond the realm of the everyday world, and can be derived through reason alone. The moral law, he says, is categorically (“unconditionally”) imperative (“crucial and essential”).

Crawford points out that Kant held a mind thinking rationally, in an ideal state, in far higher esteem than a mind grappling with the way things are in the messy, real world:

“Kant builds a high wall between the empirical world and the purely intellectual, where we discover a priori moral laws. Reasons to act must come only from the latter if we are to be free, and the will is to remain pure, ‘unconditioned’ by anything external to it. . . . To be rational is, for Kant, precisely not to be situated in the world.”

David Foster Wallace’s “This Is Water” Commencement Speech

As those who know me well know, I am a huge fan of David Foster Wallace (1962–2008). Infinite Jest was well worth the struggle to read. I have also enjoyed and marveled at the brilliance of many of his other works, fictional and nonfictional. However, I was distinctly unimpressed by his work—for the only time ever—when encountering, ten years ago, the commencement speech he delivered on May 21, 2005: and for the same reasons Crawford cites.

Even ten years later—and I remember it very well: it was exactly ten years ago, give or take a few months, when my boss (at the time) printed the speech and gave it to me, as a benefactory gesture, an offering* of moral guidance from mentor to mentee, and which I duly read, but did not duly (oops) compliment, nor, however, criticize, because, after all, who criticizes David Foster Wallace?!!

But I seem to have gotten off track. As I was saying, even ten years later, I distinctly remember the bit in the speech about the annoyance of grocery shopping. Wallace opines that if you are engaged in one of the many frustrating activities of modern life—such as grocery shopping, after a long day at work, in an ugly and crowded supermarket, when all you want to do is go home and rest, but everything is annoying and taking too long, etc.—that you should remember that you can always control what you are thinking.

Here’s what Crawford has to say about this:

“Wallace’s core suggestion in the speech is that ‘you get to consciously decide what has meaning and what doesn’t.’ . . . His solution is thus emblematic of the problem we are addressing in this book: we have an uncertain grasp of the world as something with a reality of its own.”

In other words, Wallace, in this speech, held a mind thinking rationally, in an ideal state, in far higher esteem than a mind grappling with the way things are in the messy, real world.

Matthew B. Crawford’s Praise of the World Beyond Your Head

I believe in the power of the mind, thinking rationally; but I also concur with Crawford that thinking in an idealized bubble is not enough. There’s a real world to contend with out there! If the deep, rational thinkers aren’t up for working to make a difference . . . whom does that leave?

Crawford titled his book The World Beyond Your Head. His thesis is that we should work to apply our minds to real things, in the real world, despite the many powers that be and cultural conceptions guiding us in less grounded—and more illusory—directions. This quote of his is buried in a footnote, but it’s one of my favorites in the whole book:

“Wisdom is impossible without biography.”

The mind is not an empty shopping cart, hovering in an imaginary space. It has a history. It has been filled and emptied a bit, filled a lot more and emptied a bit more. It has traveled the aisles again and again and again. It has been knocked around quite a lot, but it keeps going. It keeps moving. It keeps engaging. And the more it moves and engages, the fuller it becomes.

With what real-world activities will you fill your cart today, this week, next year?

*I thought I'd throw a footnote in here, just for good measure. (RIP DFW.)

When I think of wisdom,* I think of Henry David Thoreau and his 1854 book Walden; or, Life in the Woods. In Walden, Thoreau urges the reader, through both theoretical arguments and reflections on the two years he lived alone in the woods near Walden Pond, to simplify life and focus on what is really important—like health and wellness, quiet time alone, quiet conversations with friends, and an appreciation of nature and art.

What does this have to do with cooking? Well, everything. Some people are passionate about cooking and spend endless joyful hours reading recipes, shopping for ingredients, and working in the kitchen. If that’s you, that’s fabulous; and when can I come over? If that’s not you, or if you’re busy with other commitments that take precedence, one of life’s dilemmas is how to simplify the task of preparing meals while neglecting neither health and wellness, nor one’s appreciation of delicious food.

Of course, there is no lack of recipes intended to assist the reluctant or busy cook, the cook who is concerned about health, the cook who wishes to prepare delicious food, and even the cook who embodies all of these types. But while recipes are wonderful and useful, the reluctant or busy, health-conscious, epicurean cook may find that they often have drawbacks in these areas:

• Simplicity. Scanning through recipes and selecting one; buying ingredients, sometimes hunting through multiple aisles or stores to find them; rounding up utensils and appliances, sometimes not owning an item and having to buy it, borrow it, or figure out how to do without; and following elaborate instructions—all of this takes time and energy. If you don’t enjoy these tasks, or if you enjoy them but are too busy to do them often, it is helpful to simplify the process by cutting out unnecessary steps.
• Random leftover ingredients. Almost inevitably, you will have random leftover ingredients after following a recipe. This obligates you to find a new recipe that incorporates these random items. The new recipe, though, often leaves you with a different set of random leftover ingredients—and sometimes you still haven’t used up the items from the first recipe. So you fall into a vicious circle of always having to hunt for new recipes to use up random ingredients—or, alternatively, let these ingredients go to waste.
• Local food sourcing. If you have a garden or buy locally grown veggies, it can be tricky to find recipes that use the particular ingredients you happen to have on hand. Also, many recipes are impossible to make with locally grown vegetables, either because a particular veggie doesn’t grow in your area, or because the recipe uses two or more veggies that are harvested at different times of year—i.e., fresh asparagus (early spring) and fresh tomatoes (mid to late summer).
• Healthy eating and food requirements and preferences. Finding the perfect recipe, one that has just the ingredients you wish it to have, and not any ingredients you don’t wish it to have, can be frustrating and time consuming.

It can be exciting, instructive, and fun to follow a recipe. To assist with the times when it is not, I have written what I like to call my “Recipe to End All Recipes.” (See part 2 of this two-part series.) The “Recipe to End &c.” is flexible enough to work with whatever ingredients you happen to have on hand, and it results in meals that are simple, tasty, healthy—and dare I say wise?

*In case I have not made it sufficiently clear up until now, I would like to express that this blog is about seeking wisdom through books and elsewhere. For more information, visit my new About page.