Pat Taub
GUEST POST by MICHAEL STEINMAN
Every morning, Benjamin Franklin asked himself, “What good shall I do today?”
My answers are variations on a theme: spread joy, be kind, think of others.
For nearly six decades, my pole star has been Louis Armstrong, who made people happier, who gave generously of himself. His joy, his art, and his livelihood were the same thing. But I play and sing amateurishly. How to manifest his lessons in daily life?
Part of the author’s extensive collection of Louis Armstrong memorabilia
The meaningful life begins locally with unselfish awareness – keeping one’s phone sheathed when someone is conversing with us; not shoving someone aside to get the best seat on a half-empty train. I ask the train conductor how his shift is going, and wait for the answer; I ask my supermarket cashier if people are being nice to her, and listen closely to what she says. I thank people for small things sincerely. When I see the young father with a toddler in a stroller, who is speaking gently to his child, I tell them both how lovely this scene is and how the child will never forget it.
A tender father-child image might prompt the author to offer positive comments to the father
Giving doesn’t always mean money: it means respectful focused attention, so that the other person feels seen. Small quiet acts of love make us feel less isolated. “Cast your bread upon the waters and it comes back buttered toast,” said Sonny Greer.
I worry that I might seem The Old Dude Who Talks Too Much, so I cautiously assess the person I might speak to and keep my intrusions brief. If my words are unwelcome, I say quickly, “Sorry for intruding,” and quickly move off. I don’t see myself as fixing the world: it remains a pretty dangerous place, and I can’t erase the headlines.
For all my informal spiritual work, my kitchen is still untidy; my neck still hurts. But although I am not Clarence, Capra’s angel-in-training, I prefer joyousness to sarcasm, rage, or gloom. Perhaps sending out anonymous love in little parcels like sugar packets, expecting nothing in return, is my vocation.
The meaningful life, in action, goes beyond casual chat: it is behaviors that spring from a series of small daily choices. They come up as questions: “Will this action make someone else happier? Am I doing something for myself that might hurt another being?
Do I need this for myself, or could it be better given to another person? Have I spoken kindly to more than one person today? Is this incident worth getting angry about?”
Soon these introspections become one’s characteristic behavior, undramatic but meaningful, as small as not sticking one’s middle finger out of the car window when annoyed by another driver. Or explaining a problem to the customer-service person with gentleness, because she didn’t cause it.
The hymn that is my mental soundtrack is BRIGHTEN THE CORNER WHERE YOU ARE. Change the YOU to WE and immediately the corner blossoms and grows, as do its effects. And thus we can live so that when we are gone we will be missed, by treating everyone with as much love as they can bear.
And before we give ourselves over to sleep, we can, like Franklin, ask ourselves, “What good have I done today?” and have a pleasing answer to take into the darkness.
Michael Steinman is a writer and retired English professor, who thinks his real work is his jazz blog (JAZZ LIVES), where, through videos of live performances worldwide, he “sends out love in a swinging 4 / 4.”
