View source | |
# 2020-08-24 - Tuesdays With Morrie by Mitch Albom | |
This book deals with profound topics such as how to be happy and how | |
to live well. I really enjoyed the deep philosophical discussions | |
held in plain speech without any jargon. | |
My copy is about 200 pages in a big font. I read it in one day. | |
I am surprised how many haters there are on Goodreads. I get the | |
feeling they would benefit from running the dialog through their | |
hearts as well as their heads. | |
# Chapter, The Curriculum | |
The last class of my old professor's life took place once a week in | |
his house, by a window in the study where he could watch a small | |
hibiscus plant shed its pink leaves. The class met on Tuesdays. It | |
began after breakfast. The subject was The Meaning of Life. It was | |
taught from experience. | |
No grades were given, but there were oral exams each week. You were | |
expected to respond to questions, and you were expected to pose | |
questions of your own. | |
# Chapter, The Classroom | |
"Well, for one thing, the culture we have does not make people feel | |
good about themselves. We're teaching the wrong things. And you | |
have to be strong enough to say if the culture doesn't work, don't | |
buy it. Create your own. Most people can't do it." | |
# Chapter, Taking Attendance | |
"So many people walk around with a meaningless life. They seem half | |
asleep, even when they're busy doing things they think are important. | |
This is because they're chasing the wrong things. The way you get | |
meaning into your life is to devote yourself to loving others. | |
Devote yourself to your community around you, and devote yourself to | |
creating something that gives you purpose and meaning." | |
Although the TV and radio work were nice supplements, the newspaper | |
had been my lifeline, my oxygen; when I saw my stories in print each | |
morning, I knew that, in at least one way, I was alive. | |
Now it was gone and as the strike continued... there were worried | |
phone calls and rumors that this would go on for months. Everything | |
I had known was upside down. I had grown used to thinking readers | |
somehow needed my column. I was stunned at how easily things went on | |
without me. | |
# Chapter, The First Tuesday | |
"The most important thing in life is to learn how to give out love, | |
and let it come in." | |
But a wise man named Levine said it right. He said, "Love is the | |
only rational act." | |
# Chapter, The Third Tuesday | |
"Mitch," he said, "the culture doesn't encourage you to think about | |
such things until you're about to die. We're so wrapped up with | |
egotistical things, career, family, having enough money, meeting the | |
mortgage, getting a new car, fixing the radiator when it is | |
broken--we're involved in trillions of little acts just to keep | |
going. So we don't get into the habit of standing back and looking | |
at our lives and saying Is this all? Is this all I want? Is | |
something missing?" | |
He paused. | |
"You need someone to probe you in that direction. It won't just | |
happen automatically." | |
# Chapter, The Professor | |
When Morrie was a teenager, his father took him to a fur factory | |
where he worked. This was during the Depression. The idea was to | |
get Morrie a job. He entered the factory, and immediately felt as if | |
the walls had closed in around him. The room was dark and hot, the | |
windows covered with filth, and the machines were packed tightly | |
together, churning like train wheels. The fur hairs were flying, | |
creating a thickened air, and the workers, sewing the pelts together, | |
were bent over their needles as the boss marched up and down the | |
rows, screaming for them to go faster. Morrie could barely breathe. | |
He stood next to his father, frozen with fear, hoping the boss | |
wouldn't scream at him, too. | |
During the lunch break, his father took Morrie to the boss and pushed | |
him in front of him, asking if there was any work for his son. But | |
there was barely enough work for the adult laborers, and no one was | |
giving it up. | |
This, for Morrie, was a blessing. He hated the place. He made | |
another vow that he kept to the end of his life: he would never do | |
any work that exploited someone else, and he would never allow | |
himself to make money off the sweat of others. | |
# Chapter, The Fourth Tuesday | |
"Well, the truth is, if you really listen to that bird on your | |
shoulder, if you accept that you can die at any time--then you might | |
not be so ambitious as you are." | |
"The things you spend so much time on--all the work you do--might not | |
seem as important. You might have to make room for some more | |
spiritual things." | |
"Mitch," he said, laughing along, "even I don't know what 'spiritual | |
development' really means. But I do know we're deficient in some | |
way. We are too involved in the materialistic things, and they don't | |
satisfy us. The loving relationships we have, the universe around | |
us, we take these things for granted." | |
# Chapter, The Fifth Tuesday | |
"This is part of what family is about, not just love, but letting | |
others know there's someone who is watching out for them. Nothing | |
else will give you that. Not money. Not fame." | |
He shot me a look. | |
"Not work," he added. | |
# Chapter, The Sixth Tuesday | |
"But detachment doesn't mean you don't let the experience penetrate | |
you. On the contrary, you let it penetrate you fully. That's how | |
you are able to leave it." | |
"Take any emotion--love for a woman, or grief for a loved one, or | |
what I'm going through, fear and pain from a deadly illness. If you | |
hold back on the emotions--if you don't allow yourself to go all the | |
way through them--you can never get to being detached, you're too | |
busy being afraid. You're afraid of the pain, you're afraid of the | |
grief. You're afraid of the vulnerability that loving entails." | |
"But by throwing yourself into these emotions, by allowing yourself | |
to dive in, all the way, over your head even, you experience them | |
fully and completely. You know what pain is. You know what love is. | |
You know what grief is. And only then can you say, 'All right, I | |
have experienced that emotion. I recognize that emotion. Now I need | |
to detach from that emotion for a moment.'" | |
# Chapter, The Seventh Tuesday | |
"The truth is, when our mothers held us, rocked us, stroked our | |
heads--none of us ever got enough of that. We all yearn in some way | |
to return to those days when we were completely taken care | |
of--unconditional love, unconditional attention. Most of us didn't | |
get enough." | |
Yes, I said, but if aging were so valuable, why do people always say, | |
"Oh, if I were young again."? | |
He smiled. "You know what that reflects? Unsatisfied lives. | |
Unfulfilled lives. Lives that haven't found meaning. Because if | |
you've found meaning in your life, you don't want to go back. You | |
want to go forward. You want to see more, do more. You can't | |
wait..." | |
"You have to find what's good and true and beautiful in your life as | |
it is now. Looking back makes you competitive. And, age is not a | |
competitive issue." | |
# Chapter, The Eighth Tuesday | |
"We've got a form of brainwashing going on in our country," Morrie | |
sighed. "Do you know how they brainwash people? They repeat | |
something over and over. And that's what we do in this country. | |
Owning things is good. More money is good. More property is good. | |
More commercialism is good. MORE IS GOOD. MORE IS GOOD. We repeat | |
it--and have it repeated to us, over and over until nobody bothers to | |
even think otherwise. The average person is so fogged up by all | |
this, he has no perspective on what's really important anymore." | |
"You can't substitute material things for love or for gentleness or | |
for tenderness or for a sense of comradeship." | |
"Do the kinds of things that come from the heart. When you do, you | |
won't be dissatisfied, you won't be envious, you won't be longing for | |
somebody else's things. On the contrary, you'll be overwhelmed with | |
what comes back." | |
# Chapter, The Tenth Tuesday | |
"Still," he said, "there are a few rules I know to be true about love | |
and marriage: | |
* If you don't respect the other person, you're gonna have a lot of | |
trouble. | |
* If you don't know how to compromise, you're gonna have a lot of | |
trouble. | |
* If you can't talk openly about what goes on between you, you're | |
gonna have a lot of trouble. | |
* If you don't have a common set of values in life, you're gonna | |
have a lot of trouble. Your values must be alike. | |
* The biggest value is your belief in the importance of your | |
marriage [or relationship]. | |
# Chapter, The Eleventh Tuesday | |
"Here's what I mean by building your own little sub-culture," Morrie | |
said. "I don't mean you disregard every rule of your community. I | |
don't go around naked, for example. I don't run through red lights. | |
The little things, I can obey. But the big things--how we think, what | |
we value--those you must choose yourself. You can't let anyone--or | |
any society--determine those for you." | |
"Each society has its own problems," Morrie said, lifting his | |
eyebrows, the closest he could come to a shrug. "The way to do it, I | |
think, isn't to run away. You have to work at creating your own | |
culture." | |
"The problem, Mitch, is that we don't believe we are as much alike as | |
we are. If we saw each other as more alike, we might be very eager | |
to join in one big human family in this world, and to care about that | |
family the way we care about our own." | |
"Invest in the human family. Invest in people. Build a little | |
community of those you love and who love you." | |
# Chapter, The Audiovisual, Part Three | |
"Be compassionate," Morrie whispered. "And take responsibility for | |
each other. If we only learned those lessons, this world would be so | |
much better a place. Love each other or die." | |
# Chapter, The Twelfth Tuesday | |
"Mitch," he said, returning to the subject of forgiveness. "There is | |
no point in keeping vengeance or stubbornness. These things I so | |
regret in my life." | |
"Forgive yourself. Forgive others. Don't wait..." | |
# Chapter, The Thirteenth Tuesday | |
The story is about a little wave, bobbing along in the ocean, having | |
a grand old time. He's enjoying the wind and the fresh air--until he | |
notices the other waves in front of him, crashing against the shore. | |
"My God, this is terrible," the wave says. "Look what's going to | |
happen to me!" | |
Then comes along another wave. It sees the first wave, looking grim, | |
and it says to him, "Why do you look so sad?" | |
The first wave says, "You don't understand! We're all going to | |
crash! All of us waves are going to be nothing! isn't it terrible?" | |
The second wave says, "No, you don't understand. You're not a wave, | |
you're part of the ocean." | |
# Chapter, Conclusion | |
Have you ever really had a teacher? One who saw you as a raw but | |
precious thing, a jewel that, with wisdom, could be polished to a | |
proud shine? If you are lucky enough to find your way to such | |
teachers, you will always find your way back. Sometimes it is only | |
in your head. Sometimes it is right alongside their beds. | |
author: Albom, Mitch, 1958- | |
detail: gopher://gopherpedia.com/0/Tuesdays_with_Morrie | |
LOC: LD571.B418 S383 | |
tags: biography,book,inspiration,non-fiction | |
title: Tuesdays With Morrie | |
# Tags | |
biography | |
book | |
inspiration | |
non-fiction |