A reader suggests that a sense of entitlement is detrimental toward education, and that it is much easier to teach children than adults.

Matt responds:

Teaching an adult is hard but not impossible.  I believe the biggest problem we have as human beings is having a closed mind.  If we could start some sort of an adult education of possibilities towards other ways—I do have a process for that—then there might be a different way of teaching.  Maybe it would be better, maybe worse, but at least there’s a possiblity.

So much of life can be about getting into a rut if you let it.  And a rut eventually turns into a deep hole if you run something along it long enough.  When you get in a big hole, you really can’t see anything that’s going on around you.  My own personal quest is to constantly challenge myself, even now in my waning years, in the areas of motivation, acceptance, possibilities, and asking myself, “Am I doing things out of prejudice, fear, love, hate, misunderstanding?  What are my real motivations?”  That process makes my life a joy.

I think the human animal’s prejudices are so out of sorts with our being.  If we are special beings, as indicated in the book I speak about so often (A View from the Center of the Universe), and if we each have our own destinies and are masters of our own self with our responsibilities—then why would we pickle that up into certain jars and never look at it again, never see if it fermented or got sweeter or whatever?  To me, the great joy is the joy of the unknown, the happiness of the moment, because I’m doing what I want to do.

That’s probably a very bizarre thing to say.  Some people might respond, “You are so lucky to be in that position!”  Well, nobody put me in that position.  I’m in it because I put myself in that position.  We make our own reality; our life really exists between our two ears.

We can then get into the inequities of it.  I’ve been into some of the poorest nations in the world, where there’s a lot of strife and hunger, and shelter is almost nonexistent.  But there are always people there who seem to radiate a serenity and acceptance, a gladness of self, and of course there are others who are ranting and raving and running around.  It’s not up to me to judge which is the better, but I think we are all products of what we are.

I like to think of any given day as a blender.  We get up and throw some honey and a banana in, and mix it all up.  We drink it, and, “Oh, isn’t that great?”  But sometimes you get up and throw some vinegar in it.  You may pee in it.  And then you say, “Oh, this tastes terrible!”  Well, you’re the one who made it, and now you’re drinking it.  I suppose it’s a Pollyanna way of looking at things, but as a recovering alcoholic, it gets me through my day.  I can’t  wait to get up in the morning and throw some new stuff in the mixer.  Never forget the Little Orphan Annie song:  “The sun’ll come out tomorrow...”—whether we’re here or not.

Matt