Radical Amazement OR Living Every Day as if it's Your First

You may have heard of Suleika Jaouad, a musician and best-selling author of Between Two Kingdom’s, but she might be even better known as the wife of fellow musician John Baptiste. That’s how I discovered her. Together they were featured in the 2023 documentary, American Symphony, which focuses on Baptiste’s musical career as well as his wife’s struggles with leukemia.

Jaouad has a new book called The Book of Alchemy: A Creative Practice for an Inspired Life, which includes contributions from several musicians, writers, activists and actors. I haven’t yet read the book, but I was taken with something that Jaouad said recently on The Late Show with Stephen Colbert as part of her promotional tour. After being diagnosed with her third bout of leukemia last year, her doctor advised her to live every day as if it were her last, a common refrain when someone is faced with a terrible illness.

The trouble, Jaouad claims, is that it’s terrible advice.

I encourage you to watch the clip, but Jaouad explains, “It is exhausting to try to make every family dinner as meaningful as possible and to carpe diem the crap out of every moment.”

So what’s a better way to look at life when faced with a deadly illness, or a way to look at life in general?

She goes on, “Instead I’ve had to shift to a gentler mindset, and I am trying to live every day as if it’s my first. To wake up with that sense of pure uninhibited creative freedom, that sense of wonder and curiosity that a little kid might.”

We would all do well to apply Jaouad’s advice, and we certainly needn’t be faced with cancer to do so.

By some stroke of luck, a few days before seeing the above video clip, I attended a lecture at Elmhurst University, during which Rabbi Steven Bob celebrated the life and teachings of Rabbi Abraham Joshua Heschel, a prominent theologian and author in the 20th century. In Heschel’s 1951 book, Man Is Not Alone: A Philosophy of Religion, he discusses a concept that aligns very much with Jaouad’s: radical amazement. It’s this concept that Rabbi Bob highlighted in his lecture.  

Heschel writes, “Human beings must stand in radical amazement that they exist at all…to be so in awe of every aspect of the world and its creator that one cannot help but do one’s part to make it the best it can be.”

Upon learning Heschel’s phrase and – just a few days later – having it reinforced by Jaouad (in spirit, if not in exact words), this idea of radical amazement has been foremost on my mind. I’ve caught myself several times a day actively being in awe of something that might otherwise be categorized as mundane. A flower. The sky. My wife’s smile. A warm bed. A heartfelt laugh. A hardy meal. My body’s movements. There is no shortage of things to be inspired by, and tapping into the beauty of the mundane is a large part of what attracted me to Judaism in the first place, as it’s largely a religion of elevating what might be considered normal everyday activities into something more, something spiritual, something meaningful.

Of course, one doesn’t have to be Jewish or Christian or Muslim or Buddhist or anything else to consider the philosophy of radical amazement. One just needs to be human. There are loads of wonderful articles and videos online to spur you on your journey to embracing the wonder of life. I’m going to dig deeper into this concept, and I suspect that starting with the books of Heschel and Jaouad might be great places to start. If you find another great source, let me know. Good luck with your journey.

Smartphone Addiction

A while back I read an essay by August Lamm, whose journey from social media influencer to ditching her smart phone struck a chord with a lot of people, including a book publisher. The plan was to write a short pamphlet called “You Don’t Need a Smartphone” and follow it up with a full-length book. By this point, Lamm was using a flip-phone, but that didn’t stop the publishing team from sending massive amounts of emails, texts, calls and Google invites about Zoom meetings, deadlines, Google docs, press releases, social media strategies, and the like. Lamm explains it far better than I do – she’s an excellent writer – but the upshot was that her efforts to write about downgrading and reclaiming her life was leading her to do the exact opposite; she was glued to an electronic device at all times, stressed out and not sleeping.

Ultimately, the pamphlet did get published, and I was intrigued enough with the topic to buy a copy, not because I feel like my smartphone has taken over my life, but because I wondered how she advised people on issues like how to enter sporting events or concerts without a phone, or how to pay bills or send people money? It’s no secret that a lot of things we used to do without smartphones are becoming increasingly reliant on smartphones.

Which is the point, says Lamm. It’s not an issue of self-control. Smartphones are designed to keep us on them, and there are powerful entities making sure that you do. But “screentime is not your time,” Lamm writes. “It’s an aggregate of other people’s time – their words and images, their pleas and ploys.”

My kids and I were some of the last people I knew to own a flip phone. I remember people making fun of me about it, asking me about how I could leave home without a phone. “I’m going shopping at Target,” I’d say. “Who do I need to talk to?” I finally acquiesced when familial logistics problems arose, and flip phones became useful tools in the interest of family harmony. Around three or four years later we purchased our first smartphones, which means I’ve owned a smartphone for less than twenty percent of my life, but that hasn’t stopped me from fully integrating it into my daily activity. And I’m not immune to picking up my phone to do one specific task, only to see that I’ve received a text message, and after checking the text completely forgetting why I picked up my phone in the first place. 

That’s a big part of the problem, says Lamm. The smartphone has combined dozens and dozens of everyday activities into one convenient package. Lamm is a big believer in disambiguation, restoring single-purpose devices into one’s life. Want to listen to music? Grab an old iPod, or better yet, play a CD or record (I still do!). Want to add some numbers? Get out the old calculator you left in your drawer a dozen years ago. Want to make a phone call? Get out your flip phone. Want to start dating? Join a club and socialize. Want to drive somewhere? Get out a map. Hell, I spent 45 years driving from place to place without the use of Google Maps, but I’ll be darned if it didn’t take just six months or so for me to become addicted to this tool.

“Precisely,” I can hear Lamm saying to me.

Lamm says that once she downgraded and broke the cycle of relying on her smartphone, a funny thing happened: she got her time back. She started doing things with more intent. Her book-reading increased, and sometimes she even started doing…nothing. Just being and not worrying about every minute of her day being productive. She writes, “As long as you are experiencing this time more vividly than you did screentime, you are reaping the benefits. Be bored. Be annoyed. At least you’re feeling something.”

Here's my quick take: smartphones are this grand experiment that we humans decided to enter into whole-hog without really understanding the repercussions (a common human trait), and I think it’s important that Lamm and others are discussing the issue of smartphone addiction, particularly for young people who’ve never known life without one. Her message has resonated with a lot of users.

As for me, I find that separating myself from my phone isn’t all that difficult for two big reasons: I don’t do social media or play games on my phone, and those to me are the biggest culprits of smartphone addiction. After all, these apps are designed to be addictive, and they lead to an incredible waste of time. And sure, I’ve wasted many hours on my phone, but most of the time I’m on it to do something specific, which is really what all of us should be striving for – do live with intent.

Reading Lamm’s pamphlet has inspired me to do two things: keep my phone out of my bedroom and keep it out of reach when I’m watching a movie or TV.  That will go a long way to keeping me engaged with what I’m doing.

For those who feel like their relationship with their phone has crossed a line, Lamm’s pamphlet may provide a roadmap for how to untangle oneself from this device. I wish her huge success with the publication, and I really do hope that one day she can write the book without it sucking her back into the world of electronics.

Using a Donor Advised Fund (DAF) to offset a Roth IRA Conversion

It’s been a while since I’ve wrote out finances, so let’s dig in, and let me preface this by saying that I am not a financial professional; please consult a professional (as I did) before you embark on any significant tax-saving strategies.

Okay, with that out of the way, let’s summarize two things: one, I think charitable giving is important, as I’ve written about before in several different essays. If you have the ability to help others and you’re currently not doing so, or if you wonder if you could be doing more, please consider reading my blogs on this topic, and in particular read about Peter Singer and his philosophy about giving money wisely.

Two, I’d like to have as much retirement income in tax-free accounts as possible - in other words, Roth accounts. I’m happy to pay taxes and contribute to the United States every year, but I also want to do intelligent and legal things to mitigate the tax I pay. Rich people do it, so I figure my family should take advantage of the same strategies when possible.

Now, you’re legally allowed to transfer money from a pre-tax retirement account like a traditional IRA or a 401k into a Roth IRA, but it’s a taxable event, and paying a big extra chunk in taxes is prohibitive most of the time. So even though I want to have as much of our retirement savings in a ROTH IRA so that we can withdraw money tax-free in our retirement, I’m not willing to do so if it means paying taxes now.

With that in mind, I’d like to discuss a method of satisfying both desires - giving to charity and moving money into a Roth IRA - without increasing your taxes.

In 2022 I learned about Donor Advised Funds (DAFs), a device that allows you to move more than one year’s worth of charitable giving into a fund for future distribution. The idea is that if you are able to contribute several year’s worth of charitable giving into a DAF in one calendar year, then you can then itemize the deduction on your taxes. This became especially important a few years ago in states like Illinois with high state and property taxes, because after the SALT tax deduction was enacted, these deductions were capped at $10K. So in 2022, when the standard deduction was $25, 900, it required an addition $15,900 of charitable giving before you could benefit from itemizing your deductions. In 2024 the standard deduction is up to $29,200, so it takes nearly $20K of charitable giving to begin to itemize your deductions.

Now, I’m aware that we should give to give, not to reap financial benefits. I get it. But we can give a whole lot more if we do get a deduction, which is why charitable deductions are allowed in the first place - to spur charitable giving.

For argument’s sake, let’s say you have $100K in a brokerage account somewhere and you like to donate $20K a year to charities (and I recognize that these numbers might be pie-in-the-sky - I’m just trying to make it simple). Depending on your income (there are restrictions, so do your homework) you could take $100K from your traditional IRA or 401K and transfer it to a Roth IRA, and then offset the tax implications for this event by moving $100K from your brokerage account into a Donor Advised Fund. The two events should be close to a wash, and you’ll wind up paying around the same tax as you did last year. And now you have five-year’s worth of charitable giving ready to go!

Even better, you can move appreciated assets into the DAF tax free, thereby avoiding capital gains on that amount. And wait, there’s more! The assets you have in the DAF can grow over time, allowing you to give even more money to your favorite charities!

Pretty slick, eh? To me, it’s a no-brainer, and I’m surprised that this strategy isn’t discussed more on-the financial pages I read.

I studied this method for weeks, wondering if I was missing something, and finally bit the bullet and emailed a financial advisor who I hire from time to time for a flat fee (always a flat fee - never a percentage) and asked him about the above strategy. He wrote: “Love this strategy, we do it all the time. Yes, I approve everything you are planning as described in your email.” He then went on to explain a few specifics to be aware of that were helpful, so please do your homework and get the advice of a professional before you pull the trigger.

If you’re lucky enough to have some assets on-hand that you don’t need immediately and you believe in helping others, consider looking into this strategy. It’s a win win win win.

All Work and No Play

I read Kareem Abdul-Jabbar’s newsletter fairly frequently, and without fail he has something insightful to offer (he’s as smart and as good a writer as he was at playing basketball, which seems a little unfair), often attributing his insight to his old UCLA basketball coach, John Wooden. A few months ago, Jabbar quoted Wooden: “Do not let making a living prevent you from making a life,” and Jabbar expanded on this teaching, saying, “It’s not just about taking more time off work to spend with friends and family, it’s also about how we lie to ourselves and others about our priorities. And how those lies prevent us from making a truly fulfilling life.”

Weighty stuff, that!

I’ve often professed that people are what they do, not what they say. It matters not if you say, “My children are the most important things in my life” if you rarely talk to, write to, visit or even think about them. It may be true that they hold a place in your heart, and I don’t want to diminish that, but the reality is that for many of us, we spend more time watching sports than we do with family, we spend more time working unnecessarily than we do pursuing friendships, and we spend more time scrolling through social media than we do pursuing a meaningful task. The time we spend doesn’t line up with what we claim to be most important in our lives.

Kareem goes on to comment on people who appear on reality shows and compete for money “for their family,” all the while spending more time away from family and begging for attention (like Elton John wanting to spend more time with family, and therefore embarking on a five-year farewell tour to prove it!). It’s a little harsh, but as Jabbar says, “People get married, buy houses, and put their kids through college without stranding themselves on an island or leaping forty feet into the water while grabbing a plastic flag.”

Wow. So how should we spend our time?

At the end of the movie Monty Python and the Meaning of Life, after 90 minutes of insane comedy sketches that include a grotesque live organ transplant and a large man vomiting profusely, the question of the meaning of life is finally answered: “Try to be nice to people, avoid eating fat, read a good book every now and then, get some walking in, and try and live together in peace and harmony with people of all creeds and nations.”

You could do worse! 

But my pithy response to life’s biggest mystery is this: “The meaning of life is to live life meaningfully.”

If what you’re doing at this moment has meaning, you’re on to something. If it doesn’t, stop doing it and move on to another activity. Most of our time should be spent doing things that coincide with what’s most important. I’ve never been inclined to squander away a day, but I’ve been known to throw away an hour here or an hour there in ways I never would have done twenty years ago. Which is silly, because I have less time in this life now than I had twenty years ago! I shouldn’t be squandering another minute.

Or does growing older give you permission to squander some time but somehow feel at peace with it?

If so, I’m not quite there yet.

Time to get cracking.

Crying My Eyes Out

I’ve broken down in tears during no fewer than four concerts in the last 12 months. No shame in that, I suppose, but it does beg the question: why? Is it simply because the music moves me? Is it because of my past? A sense of loss? A realization that the artists I’m watching won’t be around much longer? Probably all of those things and more, but I’d like to delve a little deeper into the songs that had be blubbering like a fool and attempt to understand what the heck is going on.

Peter Gabriel: “Washing of the Water.”  September 2023

I didn’t see this one coming. Last time I saw Gabriel – coupled with Sting in 2016 – he opened with the eerily magnificent “The Rhythm of the Heat,” a song that’s cool as hell, but hardly one that I can relate to. But in 2023, he sat down on a chair with a small keyboard, and beside him sat long-time bassist Tony Levin. Together, they played the quiet, heart-breaking song of pain and grief and a plea for inner peace. That’s probably enough to put me over the edge in any context, but to see these two musicians, together for nearly fifty years, back on stage as a duo? That might have been enough right there, no matter what song they chose to play.

And then there’s my own past to reckon with. Gabriel’s Secret World DVD was on constant rotation in my household when my kids were young. My daughter Jessica wanted to be Paula Cole, a vocalist on that tour from 1993. Envisioning my three young children who watched that concert with me over and over – children who are all now adults living in different time zones – well, that certainly contributed to the waterworks. And to top things off, I was watching the concert with my 21-year-old son, over 36 years after I’d first seen Gabriel on his So tour, when I was an even younger 19. It boggles the mind. It conjures up a time when the future long and wide…you know the drill.

I also knew instinctively that this was the last time I’d see Peter Gabriel live, and that in the not-too-distant future, he’ll no longer be with us.

Geesh. Add that all up – how could I not cry?

James Taylor: “Shed a Little Light” and “That Lonesome Road.” June 2024

I should note first that I can’t listen to “That Lonesome Road” without crying. I find it absolutely heart-wrenching, this tale of a man – much like the man in Peter Gabriel’s ”Washing of the Water” – who’s reeling from his mistakes, untethered, attempting to rise above his pain, to start anew.

But dang, to play an encore of “Shed a Little Light” – a favorite of my wife’s and mine – followed by “Your Smiling Face” and “That Lonesome Road”…I knew, I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that I would never see James Taylor play again, and I felt a sense of loss for a future without this magnificent artist who so eloquently captures the human condition. It’s like what Mark Twain said about worrying: it’s like paying a debt you don’t owe. I was experiencing grief for a person who’s still living. Kinda dumb. But there it is.

Sara Bareilles” “She Used to be Mind.” August 2024

Okay. Once again, a very touching song.  Sara has about a half a dozen that can set me off in a flash.  She’s got that gift. And here I was on a beautiful night with my beautiful daughter Sarah at the beautiful Hollywood Bowl. I mean, come on! The first time I saw Sara Bareilles was with both of my daughters at this strange venue – the Scottish Rite Center in Milwaukee – where Bareilles played a solo show prior to the release of The Blessed Unrest. I blogged about that concert back in 2013, and here I was over a decade later, watching her perform this wonderful song about self-acceptance. It killed me.

Keane: “Can’t Stop Now.” September 2024

This isn’t a song that would normally set me off, but there were several things going on here. First was the pure jubilation of finally seeing this band after a few failed attempts, the last one a cancelled show in Nashville due to the pandemic. Second, my daughter Jessica was by my side (and yeah, all four of the cry-fests in this blog involve watching a band with a loved one – no coincidence). Third was the sheer power coming from the musicians on-stage, especially the vocal perfection of Tom Chaplin.  Fourth, the fact that in 2020 – just a month after that cancelled Nashville show – I got to play a Keane song with all three of my kids at a little outdoor concert on my neighbor’s driveway while families huddled outside in their safe family bubbles, none of us knowing that this was what life would look like for the rest of the year. And fifth is some serious personal stuff than I can’t delve into on-line, but suffice it to say that I’m aware of life and death, what I have and what I’ve lost, what matters and what doesn’t.

And all of that adds up to tears. Again.

And look, I grew up in a rather undemonstrative family, so I view my ability to cry – in public, no less – as a step in the right directions, generationally speaking. Maybe my kids will have a better chance to be more fearless and open than I’ve been. And maybe in thirty years they’ll be at concert with their adult children, listening to a song that has them breaking down in tears.