Net worth

As I remember my Father who passed away two years ago today, I am reminded of the many enduring lessons he taught me. Above all, that love matters most. Thinking of you Dad, today and every day.

Since he was a young man, my Dad had the goal of having a net worth of a million dollars. 

Throughout his professional life, Dad was tenacious, motivated, and successful, and by the time he was my age, he achieved his goal. But when he got there he invariably asked the question one asks at the top of a mountain - “Now what?” As driven as he was, Dad simply strove for more - the next million dollars, the bigger house, the newer car, the higher mountaintop.

In my career in fitness, I’ve seen this cycle many times - set a goal, reach a goal, find momentary satisfaction (and subsequent disappointment), and then set another goal. Losing weight, running a marathon, or earning a million dollars are all worthwhile pursuits I suppose, but if I’ve learned anything through the years, I’ve learned that there is no “there.” Every peak has a valley and it’s actually those valleys that determine our true net worth.

My nickname for Dad growing up was “The General.” Back then Pop liked to kick ass and take names. He was in charge and didn’t mince words. Like any good commander, he was bound and determined to reach his goals and he almost always did. But The General also lost some tough battles and had some bad luck along the way - markets, timing, and his health had other ideas. It was in that valley of setback and failure that Dad had to wrestle with a much more important question; “what is my true net worth?”

I don’t want to speak for Pop, but I’m convinced that Dad’s financial misfortunes and health challenges actually increased his ‘net worth’ so to speak. 

From my perspective, as Dad aged, he learned that his real worth wasn’t listed on a financial statement, his resume, or determined by what street he lived on. He became less of a general and more of a chaplain. Instead of barking orders and conquering goals, Dad sought to listen more, serve others, and love fiercely. He worked on being a better man - more humble, introspective, and generous. In turn he became less driven, less angry, and less opinionated - well, not less opinionated, but he tried!

Dad’s journey and example made an impression on me but I’ve had to learn the lessons of self-worth on my own terms. When I was in my teens, I put my net worth into being popular so I worked on being funny, well liked, and going with the crowd. When I was in my twenties, I valued being “successful” so worked on being a good corporate salesman and making money. When I was in my thirties, I put my focus on my physique, so I started voraciously exercising, running, and boxing. In my forties, I put much of my stock into my creativity and my spirituality so I dove into spiritual direction, researching, and writing. 

But as Dad experienced, life had other ideas for me than simply reaching goals. As I learned the hard way, failure has had a lot more to teach us than success; failure allows for humility and empathy to open our hearts. 

As I approach 50, my net worth on paper isn’t very impressive. Like the vast majority of people on the planet I don’t have a million dollars (the million dollar benchmark of Dad’s generation has now probably been supplanted by at least two million dollars anyhow). I may never achieve Dad’s financial status, but I know that the bigger question is, what if I do? Then what? I know that this question will never go away with material needs, wants, and desires. 

The truth is that there’s no stack of money big enough. There’s no perfect body, fastest race, or highest mountain. There’s no family loving enough, church righteous enough, or safe haven safe enough that determines your actual worth.

Your net worth isn’t how big your bank account is. It isn’t how many friends you have, your artistic talent, or your charitable and professional legacy. In my view, your net worth isn’t determined by what team you’re on (your political affiliation or your spiritual beliefs). 

When we were young, Dad stressed striving, saving, and success. As I learned, these qualities will inevitably make you more comfortable and likely more popular as a result. But as Dad got older, his actions taught me that your real net worth isn’t about how much comfort you achieve or how much love you receive. Your true net worth is the sum of the love you share.

As I learned from Dad, each one of us has an abundant capacity to express love and love is our one true unlimited resource. Only love will make us whole. 

2020 Vision

20/20 vision is defined as “normal visual acuity measured at a distance of 20 feet.” Essentially, 20/20 vision indicates the clarity of vision at a distance.

I don’t have 20/20 vision. I wear glasses when I drive, go to the movies, or attend a live event. Bound by the limitations of my genetics, seeing from distance has never been my strong suit. Thankfully I was taught from a young age that ‘seeing’ clearly with my thinking is something that has no physical or genetic boundaries. But in these tumultuous times, clarity of thought can seem as challenging as seeing a clear picture without my glasses.

Regardless of how well our physical eyes can see the events unfolding around us, it’s difficult to examine many modern circumstances with the perspective of true 20/20 vision. Instead many of us default to the short-sidedness of only seeing how the present directly affects us personally.

In a time of acute danger, we don’t use our ability to see from a distance. Instead we only see the immediate things that are right in front of us. We simplify things to a fight or flight response and quick, digestible thoughts - friend or foe, good or bad. When we sense a threat like someone who means us harm or a poisonous snake that comes across our path, we run, or we stand and fight.

If you happen to find yourself in a terrible circumstance like your house being on fire, such black and white thinking might just save your life. But when faced with complex existential threats – climate change, economic inequality, political gridlock, systemic racial injustice, health epidemics, and global pandemics – fight or flight thinking is a disaster.

The type of dualistic thinking that saves your life when a lion approaches or a bus swerves into your lane of traffic merely fans the flames when faced with foreboding hazards like challenges of 2020. Much of the cultural thought construct related to our current threats is seen through the narrow lens of self-preservation, namely:

1) Pride (Fight).

2) Victimhood (Flight).

Both pride and victimhood are ultimately two sides of the same coin - ego. The ego is easy to spot with its tendency towards narcissism, noncompliance, and nostalgia. The ego is quick to anger and loves to point fingers.

Anytime I have been deeply wrong in my life, ego had everything to do with it. When I have suffered trauma, divorce, job loss, physical setbacks, my first reaction was the self-preservation of running from the pain or fighting back. During my divorce, someone that helped me through it reminded me that, “victims don’t heal.” Of course, the arrogant and prideful don’t heal either.

Simply blaming the other side gets us nowhere. Simply touting individual responsibility while ignoring corporate and governmental responsibility solves nothing. Simply seeing a one-sided version of history doesn’t allow for healing and humility to enter our field of vision.

To truly heal, we need introspection, compassion, and forgiveness. That starts with seeing the whole picture.

While we’re hard wired to fight and flight, unfortunately, most of us aren’t very good at facing history whether it’s the mistakes we’ve made individually or the missteps of history that we’ve made collectively.

It requires radical humility to accept and acknowledge the entire spectrum of both personal and collective history and not just the convenient version. James Baldwin once said: “Not everything that is faced can be changed; but nothing can be changed until it is faced.” That is why the first step of addiction recovery is to admit the problem - to admit the truth of history.

Many of the imminent dangers of 2020 have slowly been magnifying over the course of decades. To understand the effects of our present circumstances we must be willing to look at the causes. For that, we must use the wisdom of 2020 “vision” – that is, seeing from a distance.

Seeing clearly allows for truth and only truth can bring about reconciliation and resurrection. The complex issues we face necessitates a deeper and broader frame of reference – a clear depth of field, an inclusive perspective, and the ability to assess history with equanimity and honesty.

In essence, we must hold ourselves to higher standards of thought to solve the immense dilemmas of our time. What we need now in 2020 is true 20/20 vision - the ability to see with transparency and clarity. Such vision requires the willingness to take off the blinders of partisanship, tribalism, and identity politics. In short:

·       We must let go of thinking simplistically and instead we must think holistically.

·       We must relinquish our possessiveness and turn our view towards the greater good.

·       We must acknowledge truth to find catharsis and reconciliation.

·       We must see with the “eyes” of reflection and contemplation.

·       We must use the full spectrum of color to see clearly.

Vast uncertainty, turmoil, economic upheaval, loss, professional setback, compromised health, injustice, inequality, and climate change - many of us have experienced these issues in some form in the past six months alone! Loss and uncertainty can often lead to anger and despair. But loss can also lead to renewal, growth, and transformation if we’re willing to do the work.

Life has taught me is that it’s difficult to see clearly in the midst of a storm. But life has also taught me that navigating through the rough seas depends on how and where I fix my gaze. True “2020” vision isn’t the ability to see correctly with the eyes or even the head, but to listen truthfully with the heart.

The Language of Love

As I have been watching the events and occurrences of this year, I find myself struggling to find the right balance. I feel a yearning to act and to speak out, but I also feel apprehensive at times - like I’m not sure what to say. In reflecting on the volatility of our country and the fragility of life, many unanswered questions come to mind: What’s the right thing to do moving forward? How do we repair wrongs of the past? How do we speak with those with whom there’s seemingly little or no common ground?

What is the right language for this moment?

My late Father taught me that what’s most important isn’t my opinion, what my friends think of me, how I vote, or even how I pray - What matters most is how I love. In short, the “language” I use will define the path I am on and the actions I take.

Though we all have the capacity to speak and demonstrate it, love is a language that is not always our primary expression. Ego, pride, anger, judgment, and regret are voices that sometimes drown out our native tongue.

The truth is no matter what our differences, origins, or opinions, we all have the ability to communicate in a common language of grace, acceptance, and empathy. This language called love reminds me of a powerful story I recall from 20 years ago involving one of my childhood idols, Bono.

As arguably the biggest rock star in the world back in 2001, “Bono” (Paul David Hewson of U2 fame) sat down to lunch with an unabashed racist and narrow-minded bigot.

At that time, there was a global pandemic that was decimating the continent of Africa. As we know by now, pandemics know no borders, but AIDS by the year 2000 was largely controlled, treatable, and preventable in wealthy and developed nations. In poverty stricken Africa however, AIDS was still a death sentence for millions.

Feeling that something drastic needed to be done, Bono decided to throw the full weight of his fame and influence behind the issue. He sought bipartisan support and funding to combat the pandemic. Standing in his way was Republican Senator Jesse Helms.

According to the Forbes article “I will follow”, there was no greater opponent of AIDS funding at that time than Senator Helms. Helms, a conservative evangelical, had harshly spoken out against the LGBT community calling them “perverts” and “weak, morally sick wretches.” He referred to AIDS as “a gay disease.” I won’t even mention his deplorable and toxic views on race.

In response, did Bono galvanize his global base of millions of fans and try to shame Senator Helms out of office? Did he call Helms out as the racist bigot he was? Did he belittle the religious right? Did he encourage his followers to show up at state capitals to protest with guns?

Not exactly. Instead of using his platform to shout back at Helms, Bono invited him to lunch. He then tirelessly met with evangelical leaders and listened to them. He cited Bible versus about poverty and respectfully spoke their language. In learning how to work with his adversaries, Bono commented: “When you have a person who may appear rigidly opposed to something, look for ways to widen the aperture of their narrow idealistic view.”

Elaborating on his response, Bono continued: “I've learned to speak in a lot of tongues, and I can live with the bellicose language of some fervent, fire-breathing Christians...It's not my language, but actually, I don't mind how people come to this, to the front line on this. People have different motivations. I surprise myself [about] how much I've learned from conservatives, not coming from that vein, even conservative Christians whose beliefs I don't share.”

The rest is, as they say, history. Senator Helms became a staunch and vocal supporter of AIDS funding and research. He even became a fan of U2. With global support, Africa in turn has made incredible strides in the fight against AIDS.

Bono’s selfless actions led to significant progress on the global AIDS crisis. But did his efforts also excuse Helm’s blatantly racist and bigoted past? What about justice and punishment? What about being right? After all, while Martin Luther King Jr. preached that, “Only love” (can drive out hate) he also said, “there comes a time when silence is betrayal.”

How and when to speak up and out are fair questions, especially in our current political climate. But as Dr. King stated and as Bono demonstrated in his work fighting the AIDS pandemic, to make real progress and effect lasting change, sometimes you have to meet people where they are at - even if those people are reprehensible in your view.

Still, it’s tempting to see being right as the most important thing. It’s no secret that we all love to be right. We even receive a rush of dopamine when we read something that mirrors our own opinion. Certainly, it’s natural to surround yourself with others that share your beliefs. It’s undoubtedly courageous to speak out and stand for justice.

But only talking to like-minded individuals that share your opinion simply creates an echo chamber, not progress. And drawing a line in the sand isn’t necessarily the same as getting something done.

More than anything right now, we need to speak the language of love. Narrow-mindedness, hatred, bigotry, and selfishness, and aren’t working. While silence certainly isn’t the answer, neither is hatefully shouting back. If your enemy is filled with judgment and hate, let it be their hate. Contempt, racism, injustice, and even apathy will die with those that refuse to let these qualities go. But only love can actually heal these conditions and make rights out of wrongs. Hate simply cannot survive in the face of love.

Look, I don’t know much about the science of global pandemics. I don’t what it’s like to be the victim of senseless racism or blatant discrimination. I can’t comprehend what it’s like to carry the burden of hundreds of years of oppression and persecution. I don’t have the answers to our political dysfunction and I certainly don’t know much about being a rock star or a US senator. But I do know that no matter what the situation is, my job is to listen with humility, stand up for justice, and speak with the language of love. I don’t have all of the answers, but I do know that love is the answer.

Learning to Fail

One of the more poignant moments I can remember in recent years is getting the crap beat out of me shortly after one of my biggest life failures. Just weeks after signing my divorce papers in 2012, I had to endure a few rounds of hard sparring at a martial arts testing and I got pummeled. Already bloodied and bruised, in the third round I was kicked so hard in the ribs that I doubled over and took a knee. In order to pass my test, I had to make it through all three rounds - I was literally saved by the bell.

In a twisted way, it was actually sort of cathartic to have my body feel the way my heart did – battered and broken. While getting beaten up isn’t something I’d necessarily recommend, I can also tell you that failure is almost a certainty in life and learning to cope with pain is a critical part of progression in anything.

Yet culturally, everything and everyone seems to be telling you the opposite – that success happens by finding your bliss and seeking pleasure. The quick fix is everywhere you look. Get rich quick seminars, crash diets, and fad exercise programs tell you the news your brain loves to hear – that there’s a convenient solution and a comfortable change - it just takes hard work and the right program.

But what if it wasn’t about the program, the right timing, or even how hard you worked? What if advancement was simply about the willingness to face the pain and the certainty of failure.

If I’ve learned anything, I’ve learned that I may or may not reach my goals, dreams, and aspirations, but I will most definitely fail while trying. The silver lining is that failure brings with it the opportunity to find authenticity and wholeness through introspective work and forgiveness. While more life lessons are surely on their way through my next mess up, here’s what I have learned so far:

o   Ego can take you to the depths of hell. In every major failure I’ve had, ego was in the driver’s seat. You are not your body, your job, or even your relationships, but you become the thoughts you give power to. Ego says you are defined by quantities, while your true self is defined by qualities.

You may lose your job, but you haven’t lost the qualities that got you that job. You may lose your relationship, but you haven’t lost the opportunity to love with your whole heart. Next time your ego tells you that you are defined by what you have, remind yourself that in the end, you will be remembered by your qualities.

o   Honesty isn’t your best policy, humility is. Your failure is an opportunity to perfect your virtue which is simply the opposite of your vice. My vice is pride. When others wrong me, I cast them aside and never, ever turn back. Puffing my chest up may be my default, but when I am at my best, humility governs my thoughts and actions. The problem is that when we fail, we often look for something or someone to blame, even if it’s us. In doing so we can lash out to those who have wronged us, and frequently, that lashing out is self-directed. Here’s the thing though – playing the blame game ultimately proves nothing. What matters is the humility to face the wreckage and move on.

o   Quitting is sometimes your best option. Anyone who’s ever been divorced can attest to the utter devastation associated with such a separation. You don’t get married before friends, family, and God to see it fail miserably. Compounding the effects of a trauma like a divorce are the prospects of acute pain, loneliness, and the loss of companionship. But if love, justice, and truth are worth fighting for, abuse and hatred are worth leaving behind. Leaving a relationship, job, or bad habit is sometimes our best option as something built on a false foundation isn’t worth salvaging, it’s worth tearing down and starting over on the right footing. 

o   Victims don’t heal. One thing I have seen over and over again in my in life both personally and professionally is that no one ever makes a lasting change that they don’t genuinely want to make. People make changes when they’ve had enough and their back is against the wall.

It sucks to get downsized. It sucks to get hurt or heartbroken. It sucks to get sick. It sucks when your genetics aren’t perfect. A lot of life’s setbacks aren’t our fault. It wasn’t your fault that your parents were lousy role models or your boss is an asshole. But it is your fault that you hold on to your pain, anger, and self-justification. True freedom can only come about by releasing negativity and allowing wounds to heal though the natural order of time and forgiveness. The statute of limitations is now – you aren’t a victim, you have the power of choice.

o   You must face the pain. Sometimes you’re going to get your ass kicked and it’s going to hurt - maybe even worse than you think. It’s tempting to run the other way. But the great irony of the things that mask our pain (booze, sex, food, etc.) is that these temporary reprieves only prolong and compound the inevitable pain. One of the best ways to cope with pain is to find support. If your body hurts, treat it gently and get a massage. If your heart hurts, join a support group and seek those who can understand your plight. If your mind hurts, force yourself to sit with your thoughts until they pass.

More than anything though, we have to face the hurt and the trauma. Peace is only found on the other side of it. There’s no way around the storms of life – our job is to face the pain and release its grip by swimming with the current.

Learning to fail isn’t something covered in school. There are no participation trophies in the game of life. We’ll have many wins if we’re fortunate and few failures if we’re lucky. But failure is going to happen and regardless of circumstance, the work is clear – peace of mind and character are forged with finding the resolve to face the mess and the courage to clean it up.

Question Authority

"Courage is what it takes to stand up and speak; courage is also what it takes to sit down and listen."   Winston Churchill

Back in the day when John Cougar Mellencamp fought the authority, the authority always won. And so it seems for many of us – authority appears to hold infinite power. Our mega companies and bosses, our churches, pastors and priests, and certainly the literal authorities seemingly hold all of the cards. Even in the construct of our communities and families, there is a powerful underlying influence of conformity that keeps many of us in check.

America hates a loser and the cultural norm is to hold contempt for failure. Because of such immense societal pressure, many would rather sit down and stay quiet than face the prospect of a lost battle. After all, when you pick a fight, you don’t fight to lose. And if Mellencamp was right - the authority always wins - then what’s the point of fighting ‘the man’ in the first place? With such logic, many of us choose to avoid conflict and stay on the sidelines of apathy, comfort, and complacency.

The predominance of passivity and apathy may seem like trends that are here to stay, but it hasn’t always been that way. America was founded on the ideals of resistance to authority and standing up for the rights of the oppressed and marginalized. That said, the great irony of the American ideal (success at all costs) is that it also carries with it a dark underbelly of oppression, abuse, and violence. ‘Me first’ can also mean ‘you last.’

This ebb and flow cycle of resistance and avoidance has played itself out throughout the history of our nation. In modern history, the resistance movements of civil rights, women’s rights and LBGT rights have also been paralleled by the movements of corporate consolidation and greed, bigger and increasingly gridlocked government, and inequality through the disparity of wealth.

In the hangover of the tumultuous 1960’s, the notion of conflict avoidance gained continuous momentum. Rocking the boat lost its luster and in its place, comfort and complacency became en vogue. If the 80’s was the “Greed is Good” decade, the presiding themes that seem to hold sway in modern times are that of ego, image, and self-preservation.

Pop culture promotes such a zero-sum equation played out salaciously on reality television and in our constant mind-numbing newsfeeds. The end goal is the top of the pyramid (famous, rich, and beautiful) and the way is paved with playing the game, a carefully manicured self-image, and how many ‘followers’ one can amass. I have a dream has been replaced by what’s in it for me.

Greed and selfishness seem to be top American values, but that isn’t what we’re built on. We’re build on resistance. We’re built on fighting for the rights of the little guy. We’re built on the rising tide that lifts all boats, not just the yachts.

As cookie cutter monopolies have come to define our way of business and inept government has become the norm, more and more folks are stepping out to challenge the status quo. And yet it’s evident that in many ways, in the haze of our comfortable slumber, we’ve forgotten how to stand up and resist. It’s time for a crash course:

Resistance isn’t insulating yourself with those that agree with you.

Resistance isn’t simply putting up a hashtag and feeling like you’ve done your part.

Resistance isn’t shouting and screaming louder…it’s letting others do the shouting and screaming and holding a mirror up to hatred and insanity.

Resistance starts with the most important battle you can wage - challenging your own ego and limiting self-serving beliefs.

Resistance is humility, the willingness to listen, and an unwavering commitment to justice and truth.

Resistance is putting your money where your mouth is and putting your ass on the line.

I tend to agree with John Cougar Mellancamp - it does indeed seem like the authority wins a lot of the time. But the pages of history tell a different story. All important and significant political, scientific, and cultural movements start with ideas counter to the establishment. The authority may win a lot of battles, but truth always wins the war.

Corporate America, our news/social media, and the polarizing political landscape can seem like lonely and terrifying places to reside these days. But as the truly great advancements in history corroborate - there are a lot more of us than there are of them. If enough of us resist the forces of ego, selfishness, and greed, then justice will prevail.

Moral Courage

"Our lives no longer belong to us alone; they belong to all those who need us desperately."  - Elie Wiesel

My mom used to read to me at night…until I was in high school! She read children’s books to me when I was little, sports books when I was in grade school, and as I matured, she read biographies and history. One theme was consistent in the books she chose – moral courage. Moral courage is defined as the courage to take action for moral reasons despite the risk of adverse consequences.

I’m not sure if it was Mom’s intention to instill the virtues of being some sort of moral crusader, but those books made a big impression on me. My main take away from those readings on the likenesses of individuals like Anne Frank, Malcolm X, or Jackie Robinson is that the true mark of success isn’t defined by what assets you have, your resume, or even how long you live, but by your willingness to stand for what you believe in.

How many of us are willing to take such stands? How many of us are willing to truly stand up - to our employer, our church, our government and risk persecution, our job, and even our freedom? To many, the comforts of modern life, validation on social media, and the distractions of technology hold sway over urgent and pressing systemic problems. We are too busy being distracted and seeking comfort to be burdened by life’s inconvenient truths.

Moral courage is seemingly in short supply these days although there are glimmers of hope if you look closely enough. Ishrad Manji is the founder of the ‘Moral Courage Project’’ at the University of Southern California where she teaches students to “do the right thing in the face of four years.” Manji is a Muslim who has openly stood up for the rights of women and minorities calling for reform in her faith in her bestselling book, The Trouble with Islam Today.

A recent example of moral courage is also former NFL player Ed Cunningham quitting his lucrative job as a television football analyst because he believes that football has negative long-term health ramifications. He felt could “no longer be in that cheerleader’s spot” in promoting a game he believes in hazardous to your health. In announcing his decision Cunningham added “I just don’t think the game is safe for the brain. To me, it’s unacceptable.”

The point isn’t whether people like Manji and Cunningham are right. Personally, I like football and though the studies on football appear to be fairly damning, I have no idea if the science is absolute or conclusive with regard to long-term brain damage and its correlation to football. The point is that Ed Cunningham quit one of the top jobs in sports broadcasting because of his convictions. The point is that Manji stood up to her faith at the risk of being ostracized or worse and has dedicated her life’s work to furthering the movement of moral courage.

The point is also that such stands of courage are notable because they are a rarity in our times. Moral courage tends to be the exception to the rule of the day – ‘me first.’ The mantra of me first is at the root of almost every major problem we face today – disparity of income & wealth inequality, dysfunctional government run by lifelong politicians, the epidemics of addiction, crumbling infrastructure and the failing environment. And it’s not just ego and selfishness that drives these problems, but they are compounded by a modern culture of apathy, indifference, and contempt.

Said Noel Prize winner and Holocaust survivor, Elie Wiesel: “The opposite of love is not hate, it's indifference. The opposite of art is not ugliness, it's indifference. The opposite of faith is not heresy, it's indifference. And the opposite of life is not death, it's indifference.” Wiesel goes on to say that “There may be times when we are powerless to prevent injustice, but there must never be a time when we fail to protest.”

Elie Wiesel wrote about perhaps the most glaring example of such neglect which occurred in the 1930’s & 40’s in Nazi Germany. Many protected their own self-interest - Their families, their jobs, their possessions. In doing so they contributed to one of the biggest crimes against humanity, not to mention their own countries demise and destruction. Indeed, when we put only our needs first, we neglect the moral necessities of our time.

These days there are also many who want to put their family, country or company first. While in some ways it’s natural and understandable to put you and yours first, frankly the sentiment is misguided and ultimately wrong. 'Me first' presents a self-absorbed narrative that puts blinders on the many extremely important issues of the day – poverty, failing societal health, the environment, education – things that affect us all in one way shape or form.

To right this ship, the single most important question we can ask ourselves is ‘what do you love in life more than you love yourself?’ Said another way, ‘what are you willing to die for?’ It’s a strong question, but one we all need to ask in our daily lives if we have a shot at correcting the sentiments of indifference, selfishness, and greed. Rather than responding to the issues of today with apathy, we have an ethical responsibility to stand up and ask, ‘what is going on here?’

We live in important and tumultuous times where a desperate need exists for leadership and the willingness to take stands. Even at the cost of a job, relationship, or personal gain we must put our conscious and community first. In a world of limited resources, interconnected economies, and common problems, the notion of me or even America first is archaic. As Thomas Paine said, “My country is the world. My religion is to do good.” Our ultimate task is to put the collective needs of the community first and as Paine rightly stated, “to do good.”