We are an item, that light and me. We have come to know each other, to look for each other and welcome each other to the day. Where would I be without that light? It is my lantern. It is my friend.

It is your friend too. Do you see it? Does it see you?

We take light for granted. It is there from daybreak to day’s end, from birth to death. Most people pay no heed to light except for the occasional sunrise or sunset that reminds us of its existence. There is more to light, however, than we can see in those book-end moments …

Light is its own form of music, infinitely variable in its tones and rhythms, capable of surprising us, if we let it. There is Beethoven light, immense in its power, which takes hold of all of our senses, causing us to shield our eyes. It is the sun, itself, in mid-summer, unrelenting in its demanding presence. There is Vivaldi light, subtle and piercing, as it brings a forest alive with lively patterns that will occur only once, because tomorrow leaves will drop and branches will bend, and the tempo of the music will alter, if only slightly. Everything will change, forever.

Children have their own light, which is not hard to see. It follows them around, stubborn and habitual in its presence. Most people would agree that the natural light children give off is a gift from them to us, a reminder of the warmth of innocence that, at times, we secretly wish we still had. It’s more than that. The light children emit is also what keeps us from nearly killing them, when they are at their worst: their bawling, defiant, uncooperative, distant, urchin-like selves.

The light of the child sparks the light of tolerance in the adult. Thank God for the light!

There are people who don’t much care for light. They live in caves, dark huts, shadowy rooms where the window blinds are always drawn. These dark quarters exist within them. They have turned out the light and have chosen to no longer see what is right in front of their eyes. Even the light of day they are forced to walk in has lost its glow. Sunsets are pretty but not moving. Lightning is simply frightening, but not beautiful.

It is hard to love the light of the land, if you don’t love the light inside yourself. The connection between these two forms of light is hard-wired; there is no way to uncouple them. Two people cross a field saturated by a thunderstorm that has just passed. The sky is painted deep, liquid pewter and late-day shards of sun make a modest, fleeting cameo. One person is bowled over by this extraordinary moment, unable to walk on. He has been captured by the light. The other person looks up, then looks down and continues on his way, hoping like hell the rain is done.

In the case of the first person, the light inside has found the light outside. It was easy; that is the natural order of things. In the other case, the light inside had been turned off and it was, therefore, impossible for him to fully appreciate the light around him. But that doesn’t mean it wasn’t there. The light inside you is always there, waiting to be found.

All may not be lost. Sometimes, remarkable moments of outside light, by night or by day, can get the light to flicker on again, inside. Standing in a river, a friend of mine had been fishing for several hours with little luck. As he packed up, he looked downstream about 200 yards to a steel bridge. The bridge looked as if it were covered with countless white Christmas tree bulbs, but it wasn’t; it was bathed in a thousand tiny, shimmering strands of daylight.

My friend laid his rod down on a rock and gazed at the bridge. His demeanor changed. His mouth softened. His shoulders relaxed. His eyes were locked fast to what could have been a mirage. Our walk back to the car was slow. My friend spoke of things he’d chosen not to speak of for a long time. Some family matters. A few bucket list items. All quite important, many quite personal, some quite urgent.

The play of light on ordinary objects can do that to a person: Make you wake up to what already shines within you.

Everyone has their Fifth Avenue.

The post Light, the way appeared first on Larry Ackerman.

Imagine you see what is possible, when others only see what exists in the moment.

Imagine you can inspire hope, when nearly all hope is lost.

No need to imagine it. You already possess these powers.

Here is a passage about someone who accomplished all of this, despite impossible odds.

…The Nazis gave him a number.

 …His manuscript, which they burned, became the book that saved millions.

…The man they tried to reduce to nothing proved that humans can never be reduced to nothing—as long as they can find a reason to live.

 …Prisoner 119104 didn’t just survive Auschwitz. He transformed the worst of human evil into humanity’s greatest wisdom about resilience.

 …He turned suffering itself into a source of healing.

 …History gave him immortality.

 …The identity they tried to erase became a light that guided people through darkness …

 His name was Viktor Frankl. His identity was a bulwark that stood against the forces of destruction that surrounded him – a unique and unbreakable gift that informed his life and the contribution he made to humanity, in spite of everything.

You don’t have to be Viktor Frankl to have an identity that, in its particularly illuminating way, has the power to make life better for others and, in turn, yourself. That identity already resides within you. The only question is how you will apply it – for whom and to what end?

One of my former clients, Chris, runs an investment advisory firm here in Connecticut. A few years ago, he approached me with a wish – to not be just another financial advisor who manages money; he wanted to do more, but wasn’t sure what that was. He had an itch that needed to be scratched and was curious about this “identity thing.”

Chris did the spadework necessary to clarify his identity and then, how his discovery could be used to serve clients in ways that would be helpful to them and meaningful to him.

What came of Chris’s work? He stated his identity in these words: I am Chris, and I am driven to help individuals live the one life they have the best way they can. Chris’s identity had revealed his purpose.

These individuals were no longer simply clients; they were people with vulnerabilities and limitations as well as hopes and aspirations, all of which became a framework for building more authentic, lasting relationships.

Chris’s identity became the lens through which he decided which individuals he could best serve and which ones weren’t right for him. Further, he asked his staff to adopt this basic philosophy for themselves so it became a firm-wide approach.

Here is a very rough sketch of how Chris arrived at his identity statement. Apologies. Most of the words are illegible. But it shows the amount of effort he put into getting to the top of his ‘identity pyramid.’

When I visited Chris a month or so after our work together was complete, he showed me a modest-sized glass pyramid he had had made with much of this information embedded in it. It sat at the front edge of his desk. He told me that he liked it when clients asked him about it…that not only was it an important conversation starter; it was a point of pride for him.

The impact of identity – of identity-based living – can take many forms, from saving millions to helping a few. No matter. What matters is that you do it.

You have the power to change how the world works.

You see what is possible.

You can inspire hope.

Imagine that!

The post Imagine that! appeared first on Larry Ackerman.

In short, he is not hopeful that AI’s benefits will outweigh its potential drawbacks. Murphy writes that “a fraud is being perpetuated on the American people and our pliant, gullible political leaders. The leaders of the artificial intelligence industry in the United States are rapacious in their desire to build wealth and power, comfortable knowingly putting aside the destructive power of their product, and claim that any meaningful regulation of AI in America will allow China to leapfrog the United States to control the world’s AI infrastructure.”

What is most insidious in my eyes aren’t the geopolitics of AI; it is something much more personal to all of us …

… the idea, stated here that “fake video and audio, without accountability or legal liability, could obliterate any notion of objective truth. The social isolation crisis that already exists, especially for American teens, could be set on fire by AI chatbots and ‘friendship programs’ in which Mark Zuckerberg wants to replace human friends with robot friends. (Really!) Murphy continues: The substitution of essential human functions – like composition, creativity and conversation – by machines will likely lead to incalculable spiritual atrophy.”

The title to Senator Murphy’s piece ends with these words: “…we risk losing ourselves.” The thought is positively chilling. Who are we if not, first and foremost, ourselves? The idea of being able to create a fabricated human “being,” even, if just on a screen, strikes me as a Godless act that in its own right, and multiplied millions of times, is a recipe for widespread social dysfunction. Such a wave would undermine the very meaning of trust. How can I trust you, if what I see and hear in front of me may not be true at all?

Some years ago, I wrote a newsletter entitled I am who I say I am! (Maybe not). It was my attempt to call out the emerging dangers of social media, which were leading young people to fabricate “identities” online that, unwittingly, pulled them away from their natural selves, stretching the band of credibility, sometimes to the breaking point. It was written well in advance of the AI movement, which now exponentially increases the risks I cited.

What keeps me up at night is another fact of online life, which Sherry Turkle, an MIT professor, describes this way. She says that Facebook and Twitter (now X) give us the power to “present the self we want to be,” carefully tailoring our status updates and retouching photos of ourselves. Or worse: creating identities that aren’t real at all.  It’s a slippery slope. What starts out as fun, morphs into fantasy, which may no longer be tethered to reality. And then what?

Amid all the pressing challenges AI poses to the human experience, there is good news. It is rooted in the true nature of human identity. I am not referring to your social position, your religion, sexual orientation, or gender, or parental status, or your work or any other affiliation you may embrace to help define yourself. As important as these associations may be, none of them explains who you are, at your core – your fundamental identity. What makes you, you are those unique characteristics that define your potential for making a special contribution in the world, something that springs naturally from the substance of your being, transcending the labels we use to locate ourselves in the world.

With this in mind, the only way we can “lose ourselves,” as Senator Murphy warns, is if we forget, ignore, or try to abandon our innate identities. Consider your identity to be an impenetrable fortress against the onslaught of the many and growing dangers AI brings, a sturdy keel in stormy waters.

There is no person walking this planet who doesn’t have the capacity to live through his or her identity. You are the one who matters. You are where the world begins. Remember that you are inviolable. No one, no matter how ‘intelligent’, can take your identity away from you. AI will never be able to replace, diminish, or change who you are. No one, nothing, can make you be someone you are not.

As AI complicates life – at times confusing it and at times clarifying it – know that your identity is the one true thing you can count on and that it is eternal.

Never lose sight of who you are.

The post In the age of AI, your identity is the only truth you can count on appeared first on Larry Ackerman.

A friend of mine recently told me that, at least for a while, he was “going small.” He could no longer stomach what was happening here in America – the rage, the grievances, the gloating of the winners; the self-righteousness, the blaming, the myopia of the losers. He was going to do the only thing that made sense to him: Care for himself, his family, his friends, the people he loved and who loved him back, no matter their particular brand of politics.

The idea of going small right now is bathed in wisdom.

Whether your side won or lost, you owe it to yourself to simply focus on the little things that, taken together, are in fact the essence of living.

With this in mind, another friend just sent me a short article by Elizabeth Gilbert, who wrote the bestselling memoir, Eat, Pray, Love. It describes the basic character of what it means to “go small.” Read it here and you will grasp the meaning of the title of this newsletter …

 “Some years ago, I was stuck on a crosstown bus in New York City during rush hour. Traffic was barely moving. The bus was filled with cold, tired people who were deeply irritated with one another, with the world itself. Two men barked at each other about a shove that might or might not have been intentional. A pregnant woman got on, and nobody offered her a seat. Rage was in the air; no mercy would be found here.

 But as the bus approached Seventh Avenue, the driver got on the intercom. ‘Folks,’ he said, ‘I know you have had a rough day and you are frustrated. I can’t do anything about the weather or traffic, but here is what I can do. As each one of you gets off the bus, I will reach out my hand to you. As you walk by, drop your troubles into the palm of my hand, okay? Don’t take your problems home to your families tonight, just leave them with me. My route goes right by the Hudson River, and when I drive there later, I will open the window and throw your troubles in the water.’

 It was as if a spell had lifted. Everyone burst out laughing. Faces gleamed with surprised delight. People who had been pretending for the past hour not to notice each other’s existence were suddenly grinning at each other like, is this guy serious?

 At the next stop, just as promised, the driver reached out his hand, palm up, and waited. One by one, all the exiting commuters placed their hand just above his and mimed the gesture of dropping something into his palm. Some people laughed as they did this, some teared up but everyone did it. The driver repeated the same lovely ritual at the next stop, too. And the next. All the way to the river.

 We live in a hard world, my friends. Sometimes it is extra difficult to be a human being. Sometimes you have a bad day. Sometimes you have a bad day that lasts for several years. You struggle and fail. You lose jobs, money, friends, faith, and love. You witness horrible events unfolding in the news, and you become fearful and withdrawn. There are times when everything seems cloaked in darkness. You long for the light but don’t know where to find it.

 But what if you are the light? What if you are the very agent of illumination that a dark situation begs for? That’s what this bus driver taught me, that anyone can be the light, at any moment. This guy wasn’t some big power player. He wasn’t a spiritual leader. He wasn’t some media-savvy influencer. He was a bus driver, one of society’s most invisible workers. But he possessed real power, and he used it beautifully for our benefit.

 When life feels especially grim, or when I feel particularly powerless in the face of the world’s troubles, I think of this man and ask myself, what can I do, right now, to be the light? Of course, I can’t personally end all wars, or solve global warming, or transform vexing people into entirely different creatures. I definitely can’t control traffic. But I do have some influence on everyone I brush up against, even if we never speak or learn each other’s name.

 No matter who you are, or where you are, or how mundane or tough your situation may seem, I believe you can illuminate your world. In fact, I believe this is the only way the world will ever be illuminated, one bright act of grace at a time, all the way to the river.”

Thank you, Elizabeth Gilbert, for these elegant words.

And, so, are you the light? If you choose to be, you are.

May your Thanksgiving be bathed in light.

Have you ever had a moment when you felt like you were the light in someone’s life? Share your story in the comments below!

The post What if you are the light? appeared first on Larry Ackerman.

Note: In March 2016, 6 months before the presidential election, I published the first version of this article. Now, 8 years later, the topic is even more pressing, even more distressing. I have made several changes to make it current.

It’s the season when birds start to look south, their songs still with us, but fewer and, perhaps, a bit less intense than they were in the spring. With that in mind, I know you’re all dying to know how it is that birds are able to fly. So, here’s the answer:  Birds use their strong breast muscles to flap their wings to give them the thrust they need to move through the air. Further, birds use a swimming-forward motion to get the lift they need to fly. 

Naturally, both wings need to move in unison to achieve lift-off and sustain flight. It doesn’t take much to imagine the flight path of a bird whose wings are working against each other, pulling (or pushing) in different directions, or flapping at different speeds. The chance of actually breaking a wing (or two) becomes a distinct possibility. 

Welcome to America…

Today, we have a right wing that is stretching as far to the right as possible. This wing is advocating attitudes and preaching policies that are fueled by fear, my-way-or-the-highway injunctions and exclusionary imperatives. These imperatives are clear in the words of Donald Trump and other MAGA Republicans.

We also have a left wing that is stretching as far to the left as possible. This wing is advocating attitudes and preaching policies that are excessive in their idealism and economically suspect – in short, polyannaish to a fault. For all his sincerity and seeming love of America, Joe Biden’s policies tended to give away the store in the name of helping everyone, all at once. Blank-check diplomacy, at home and abroad, is simply unsustainable. Where Kamala Harris comes out on economic priorities, as well as on other vital, U.S. interests has yet to be determined.

What is distressing, is that each wing believes it holds the answer to what America’s real identity is. “We” really are a red nation, whose fundamental values are deeply conservative. “We” really are a blue nation, whose fundamental values are rooted in progressive ideals.

“We” are neither. In the midst of this turmoil, I keep asking myself: But, what about the bird? What about America, the nation? The institution? Is our essential identity really all about the wings?

Who are we now?

For nearly 250 years, Democracy has been the wind beneath our wings, both of them. Yet today, America-the-bird is struggling to stay aloft thanks to the frantic tug-of-war between its wings and, in turn, the fate of democracy may be on the line. In fact, America-the-bird is hobbled, laboring under the weight of its’ wings. And, so, its’ flight path is indeterminable and dangerously out of control.

The eagle is no longer soaring.

I imagine the sound of that magnificent bird, its’ high-pitched, prolonged, gull-like peal, crying out to be made whole again, its two wings brought more into synch with one another in an effort to set it on a once-again, more powerful and stable trajectory.

Does the bird have a soul?

I believe it does. And if you’d like to comprehend it, I recommend reading the finest book I have ever come across about what it means to be America – The American Soul by Jacob Needleman.

The founders of our country, Needleman argues, conceived of an “inner democracy” – a continual pursuit of wisdom and self-improvement that would undergird the outer democracy in which we live today.  We have lost touch with that inner democracy. It lies in despair, abandoned and ignored by both wings. And it is the bird who is suffering.

We are suffering.

What now?

Politics, in my view, is a desperate game. It is ironic that politics is killing the very body that it purports to represent. The soul of America is not right wing or left wing. It is at once both and neither. I view America as exasperatingly, imperfectly human and yet exquisitely beautiful, bigger and more potent than either one of its wings. But America’s soul – its’ defining identity – has, for the moment, been lost to those wings.

If you know of a candidate, a party more interested in protecting the bird than its wings, let me know. He or she, somehow, will get my vote. And my prayers.

Have a view? Peck out a few words and let me know what you think.

The post …But what about the bird? (v.2) appeared first on Larry Ackerman.