What to Do, What to Do…

[Image: “The Observer’s Paradox,” by Zach Stern (found on Flicker, and used here under a Creative Commons license — thank you!). This photo seems to have been taken at the National Gallery of Art in Washington, during a 2012 exhibit called “Fifteen Pairs of Hands,” by Bruce Nauman. The same sign probably appears on many walls in the museum, and has nothing to do with this exhibit, per se — but the photographer has picked up on the inherent mystery of a hands-off injunction in a room whose contents all appear to defy it. If I’d been the photographer, I’d have been very pleased with myself!]

From whiskey river:

(Coleman Barks [source])

…and:

We are at the very beginning of time for the human race. It is not unreasonable that we grapple with problems. But there are tens of thousands of years in the future. Our responsibility is to do what we can, learn what we can, improve the solutions, and pass them on. It is our responsibility to leave the people of the future a free hand. In the impetuous youth of humanity, we can make grave errors that can stunt our growth for a long time. This we will do if we say we have the answers now, so young and ignorant as we are. If we suppress all discussion, all criticism, proclaiming “This is the answer, my friends; man is saved!” we will doom humanity for a long time to the chains of authority, confined to the limits of our present imagination. It has been done so many times before.

It is our responsibility as scientists, knowing the great progress which comes from a satisfactory philosophy of ignorance, the great progress which is the fruit of freedom of thought, to proclaim the value of this freedom; to teach how doubt is not to be feared but welcomed and discussed; and to demand this freedom as our duty to all coming generations.

(Richard Feynman [source])

…and:

If you are asking me what the individual can do right now, in a political sense, I’d have to say he can’t do all that much. Speaking for myself, I am more concerned with the transformation of the individual, which to me is much more important than the so-called political revolution.

(William S. Burroughs [source])

Not from whiskey river:

I know that though our interactions can be full of joy, and though [my physical-education students] often treat me like a human jungle gym, there is a more important process going on, one that will hopefully result in stronger bodies and sharper minds and allow me, when need be, to facilitate this growth.

But I’ve also come to recognize that there is a thin line between exercising authority and misusing power. One of the most common mistakes beginning teachers make (and it is a lesson I learned the hard way) is to fight fire with fire. Chaos is distressing and the tendency is to bring about order as fast as possible, by whatever means necessary. The trick, of course, is to be at ease with unease. Once upon a time I would try and wrest control with ear-piercing whistle blasts. Now I find myself twirling my whistle and glancing at the wall clock as the class begins to take notice and sit up straight. In these moments, part of me can’t believe it’s working and the other part of me can’t believe I’m not still the kid on the bench causing the ruckus. But, as Shunryu Suzuki said, “The best way to control people is to encourage them to be mischievous. Then they will be in control in a wider sense. To give your sheep or cow a large spacious meadow is the way to control him.” I have a spirited flock and so I try and provide a spacious meadow.

(Alex Tzelnic [source])

…and:

To the New Year

With what stillness at last
you appear in the valley
your first sunlight reaching down
to touch the tips of a few
high leaves that do not stir
as though they had not noticed
and did not know you at all
then the voice of a dove calls
from far away in itself
to the hush of the morning

so this is the sound of you
here and now whether or not
anyone hears it this is
where we have come with our age
our knowledge such as it is
and our hopes such as they are
invisible before us
untouched and still possible

(W. S. Merwin [source])

…and:

A library is a good place to soften solitude; a place where you feel part of a conversation that has gone on for hundreds and hundreds of years even when you’re all alone. The library is a whispering post. You don’t need to take a book off a shelf to know there is a voice inside that is waiting to speak to you, and behind that was someone who truly believed that if he or she spoke, someone would listen. It was that affirmation that always amazed me. Even the oddest, most particular book was written with that kind of crazy courage—the writer’s belief that someone would find his or her book important to read. I was struck by how precious and foolish and brave that belief is, and how necessary, and how full of hope it is to collect these books and manuscripts and preserve them….

All the things that are wrong in the world seem conquered by a library’s simple unspoken promise: Here I am, please tell me your story; here is my story, please listen.

(Susan Orlean [source])