Recently, I posted this question on Facebook, “To live a moral life, do people require the promise/threat of eternal rewards or punishments?”

It received many interesting responses… several were sent to me personally. For pantheists, atheists and others, my question posed little challenge. While some religious practitioners suggested eternal rewards and punishments were extra incentives, the majority claimed they would continue living a moral life, regardless of afterlife consequences. While concepts of heaven and hell appear in many religions, I’m limiting my discussion to monotheistic religions of the Abrahamic tradition, since many FB responders identified themselves as such.

I must confess, this subject intrigues me. My grandfathers were evangelical preachers… need I say more? I’ve spent many years discussing theology, studying religion, philosophy… and pondering life. But like Odysseus, I’ve ordered myself tied to the mast as to stay on topic during this post.

If the promise/threat of eternal rewards or punishments have little (if any) influence on people’s moral behavior, why do they exist? In the early Bible, the concept of heaven, hell or Satan didn’t exist. Should someone have referenced these subjects with a Hebrew from the time of Moses, they wouldn’t understand. What changed? Why propose such an idea? No doubt, such questions will generate countless responses. Let me propose one—it explains why those who follow God’s law are sometimes punished on earth while those who don’t, are sometimes rewarded. It offers the promise of retribution. With this belief in place, the just find earthly injustice more tolerable. While a perceived problem is sometimes an unseen solution, the opposite can also be true. The intended and unintended consequences of believing in eternal rewards or punishments is readily evident. Just pick up a history book or turn on the TV.

Some FB responders asked me to define a moral life. For the sake of this discussion, I’ll define it as living one’s life according to the ethic of reciprocity (Golden Rule). In one form or another, this maxim has existed for thousands of years throughout countless cultures, and is foundational to most religions, moral philosophies and healthy societies.

Have you ever noticed how our perceived enemies are demonized… given derogatory labels, portrayed as different from us… presented as a threat, unworthy or evil? This is no accident. It violates the ethic of reciprocity. Take farm animals for example… by labeling pigs “pork bellies” and cows “beef”… and so on, it’s easier to dismiss them as living feeling beings like us. Once dehumanized, labeled as food items, we can better justify the inhumane treatment they receive. In contrast, when loved ones are involved, we focus on our similarities, assign meaningful descriptions and create glowing images of them for ourselves and others to see. We put ourselves in their shoes and by extension, we make connections… we feel their pain and joy. We would do most anything for them. You might say, our moral beliefs and actions can create heaven or hell on earth… we decide.

So what happens to us when we die? I don’t know. Neither does anyone else. What I do know, based on observation, reflection… and FB responses… is that living a moral life, regardless of what happens after we die, resonates with most people. Living a moral life creates more happiness and fulfillment than not living one. Not only for ourselves, but for others, too… including those not yet born. Yes, our afterlife does live on in the hearts and minds of those who survive us. While the ethic of reciprocity provides moral guidance, it also creates awareness and establishes a wonderful litmus test for any society. Imagine if our social, political and business discussions and decisions were centered on the Golden Rule.

Note: Fortunately, I’m still tied to the mast. The Sirens have been luring me with enchanting music… and it’s becoming increasingly difficult to resist. I just deleted several paragraphs of moral anecdotes and philosophical challenges. But as promised, I’m staying on topic to the best of my ability… but be warned, I’m not certain how much longer these ropes can hold me.

So in conclusion, regardless of our beliefs, we are all an inseparable part of an immense whole. It seems most agree, by living a moral life and being accountable for our actions, we do receive just retributions. And if by chance, eternal rewards do await us, to quote Nancy (a FB responder)… it’s like “icing on the cake.”

At one point, Monster returned me to my sophomore year of college. To a time when my nerves were shot… I was confused, sleep deprived and directionless. When you’re attending college full-time while simultaneously working to pay for it, there’s little time for sleep or contemplation. Picking the right path (major) under such conditions can seem impossible. I had always been drawn to the arts… but needing to make a living, practicality was important, too. Uncertain, I decided to enroll in Preston Jackson‘s basic design class. (A few years later, I earned a degree in design/visual communications.) In addition to being a renowned artist, Preston is also a great instructor… and a kind, sensitive and insightful person to boot. One day, as Preston was musing, he said something I’ve never forgotten. “Regardless of what you do in life, be a student of history. But don’t limit yourself to history books. Study the music, art, and literature of particular time periods. Learn everything you can, from every perspective. The past provides meaning to the present… and sheds light on the future.”

When Monster was released, the U.S. was engaged in the Vietnam conflict, Richard Nixon was president, and civil unrest was rampant. To many citizens, especially those from the “older” generation, bands like Steppenwolf were unwelcome messengers—radical groups of unpatriotic, hippie misfits. Students of history know that demonizing the perceived enemy is nothing new. Wait! The enemy? Did you read the lyrics? (see below) They’re lucid, insightful… even prophetic. Unpatriotic? Steppenwolf sounds like a band of patriots! That’s from today’s perspective. When Monster was released, these lyrics challenged America’s ideology with reality. They violated many citizens’ perceptions of themselves by contrasting symbolic representations with facts. The map is not the territory. For many, this concept is difficult to grasp.

Kurt Vonnegut said, “I sometimes wondered what the use of any of the arts was. The best thing I could come up with was what I call the canary in the coal mine theory of the arts. This theory says that artists are useful to society because they are so sensitive. They are super-sensitive. They keel over like canaries in poison coal mines long before more robust types realize that there is any danger whatsoever.”

Perhaps that’s what pulls me to the arts? But I digress. Like canaries, Steppenwolf sensed the poison permeating America… and like good patriots, they warned fellow citizens of the pending dangers. How many listened? How many heard? Many citizens confuse symbols for patriotism. To them, political ideologies outweigh truth and honor… and canaries. Discrediting the messenger is easier than examining the message.

To ignore, discredit or denounce messengers, canaries (or gadflies) is nothing new. Ask Socrates. This brilliant philosopher was found guilty by his fellow citizens and sentenced to death. Guilty of what, you might wonder? For asking valid questions… and thereby exposing perceptual blindness, political corruption, and delusional citizens. In short, Socrates was guilty of being a true Athenian patriot. For the record, I have little respect (actually none) for beliefs or subjects deemed too taboo to question. In fact, I encourage everyone to question most, those deemed most unquestionable. Just as some confuse the package for its contents, they also confuse beliefs, folklore and ideology for reality. Questions followed by critical thinking help us to distinguish the differences… and uncover the truth.

As we shape our future, we also create our past. Time has a way of revealing the villains from the heroes… propagandists from truth tellers… and perceived patriots from real ones. By learning everything we can, from every perspective… we begin to see a bigger, more accurate picture. America is a melting pot of individuals… and patriots come in many shades, shapes and sizes… and from many walks of life. Yet, I’ve observed it’s America’s canaries… the “super-sensitive” folks… those most vulnerable, easiest to attack and discredit that are best at shedding light on our future. Great patriots are seen best by future generations.

Click here to view the embedded video.

Monster
Once the religious, the hunted and weary
Chasing the promise of freedom and hope
Came to this country to build a new vision
Far from the reaches of kingdom and pope
Like good Christians, some would burn the witches
Later some got slaves to gather riche
But still from near and far to seek America
They came by thousands to court the wild
But she just patiently smiled and bore a child
To be their spirit and guiding light
Then once the ties with the crown had been broken
Westward in saddle and wagon it went
And ’til the railroad linked ocean to ocean
Many the lives which had come to an end
While we bullied, stole and bought a homeland
We began the slaughter of the red man
But still from near and far to seek America
They came by thousands to court the wild
But she just patiently smiled and bore a child
To be their spirit and guiding light
The blue and grey they stomped it
They kicked it just like a dog
And when the war was over
They stuffed it just like a hog
And though the past has its share of injustice
Kind was the spirit in many a way
But its protectors and friends have been sleeping
Now it’s a monster and will not obey

(Suicide)
The spirit was freedom and justice
And its keepers seem generous and kind
Its leaders were supposed to serve the country
But now they won’t pay it no mind
Cause the people grew fat and got lazy
Now their vote is a meaningless joke
They babble about law and order
But it’s all just an echo of what they’ve been told
Yeah, there’s a monster on the loose
It’s got our heads into a noose
And it just sits there watchin’
The cities have turned into jungles
And corruption is stranglin’ the land
The police force is watching the people
And the people just can’t understand
We don’t know how to mind our own business
Cause the whole world’s got to be just like us
Now we are fighting a war over there
No matter who’s the winner
We can’t pay the cost
Cause there’s a monster on the loose
It’s got our heads into a noose
And it just sits there watching

(America)
America, where are you now?
Don’t you care about your sons and daughters?
Don’t you know we need you now?
We can’t fight alone against the monster
© Copyright MCA Music (BMI)

The flight took off on time and before long, we were preparing to land. Suddenly, the plane zigged, the storms zagged, adults screamed, and children cried. Our smooth sailing craft, at the hands of Mother Nature, had been transformed into a trackless roller coaster. People who had forgotten how to pray suddenly remembered.

The turbulence was so extreme the pilot bypassed Houston and landed in Austin where the plane was to be inspected for damage. My fellow travelers and I stood at the gate, mentally and physically disheveled, awaiting our fate. Some sent text messages, others called loved ones, and a few reached out to comfort one another. At times like this, it becomes apparent—we humans have far more in common than not. I called my wife, Anne, to see if she could find another flight into Houston. No luck.

Many passengers remained focused on the “problems” at hand. They provided each other with affirmations, complained to agents, and gathered evidence to support their beliefs. Within an hour, our flight had been rescheduled on another plane for later that evening… and then delayed once again for even later. My gut told me the third rescheduling was not going to be the charm.

“Has anyone checked on ground transportation?” I asked a group of passengers that were commiserating at the bar. “No, it’s too far to drive‚ about four hours. We’re just going to wait it out,” said one woman as she raised her glass to toast the decision. The others followed suit. As I thanked her, she wrinkled her nose in a peculiar way and said, “Find the tall woman in the white sweater; she’s thinking about renting a car.” I couldn’t tell if it was the alcohol talking, or if a suppressed memory had unexpectedly surfaced. In any case, it seemed surreal—like Alice’s encounter with the Cheshire Cat. I skeptically scanned the crowd and to my amazement, found my version of “The White Rabbit” standing less than 20 feet away, talking to some fellow passengers. This trip was becoming “curiouser and curiouser!” Perhaps I was in Wonderland?

“Are you the tall woman in the white sweater that’s considering driving to Houston tonight?” Relieved that she didn’t break out into a chorus of, “I’m late, I’m late for a very important date!” I introduced myself and explained my situation. After a brief moment of contemplation, she answered, “Why not, yes, let’s do it!” Gigi Woodruff, a YMCA executive, rented a car and selflessly agreed to go out of her way to deliver a nurse, a sales manager and me to our respective destinations near her hometown.

Two hours into our journey, Anne called to inform us that our flight to Houston had been canceled until morning… which is when I had to deliver my keynote on “Turning Problems Into Solutions.” Thanks to Gigi, the Good Samaritan in the white sweater, that’s exactly what happened!

I checked into the hotel and called Debbie Norman, the event manager. Even though it was late, Debbie did a convincing job of sounding awake and positive… “Great, Michael, I’m so glad you made it… I’ll meet you in the lobby at 9 AM.” No doubt, she had alternative plans in place if I hadn’t. Professional event managers are masters at turning problems into solutions.

Life is a journey—and when our plans don’t align with reality (as they often don’t), we can either see it as a problem, or an opportunity. The choice is ours. When we remain open-minded and focus on possibilities, we can turn “perceived” problems into “real” solutions. No doubt, my trip to Houston tested this axiom… and I’m pleased to say, it passed with flying colors.

Extraordinary claims require extraordinary evidence. The following morning, Dr. Carla O’Dell introduced me and then shared the events leading up to my arrival. In doing so, she reinforced that the theme of my speech was more than an extraordinary claim. The audience was wonderful and my message seemed to resonate with them on many levels. Gigi was able to attend the event, too. At the end of my speech I introduced her… and she received a standing ovation.

It’s true: The world we focus on is the world we create. Thank you Anne, Carla, Debbie, and Gigi for “Turning Problems Into Solutions” and making this world a better place in the process.

Afterwards, during a Q&A session, a young man remarked, “Your presentation was awesome, but how do you go about seeing unseen solutions?” What a great question! In a nutshell, here’s my answer:

Seeing “unseen solutions” starts by believing they exist. This is fundamental. Without this belief and a willingness to suspend our judgment and remain open to new possibilities, unseen solutions remain just that–unseen.

Secondly, when one appears, we need to accept it. That’s right… unseen solutions try to get our attention on a regular basis, but we’re too busy working and living to notice. Because most potential solutions dwell on the edge of our perception, we usually overlook, ignore, or dismiss them. Occasionally, a potential solution is so persistent; we can’t help but catch a glimpse of it. When this happens, we briefly acknowledge it, believing we’ll remember it. But when we try recalling it, we discover it’s gone… or parts are missing.

While some solutions appear all at once, most come in small flashes that strike us when we least expect it… when we’re reading, taking a shower, on a walk, exercising or daydreaming. These flashes are fleeting gifts! We all receive them, but few take them seriously. To quote my late grandfather, “When God whispers in your ear, pay attention.”

Most people acknowledge that writing down your goals significantly increases your chances of making them real. The same idea holds true for exposing unseen solutions. My notebooks are filled with random ideas, sketches, quotes, notes, news clippings and photos… mostly fragments of unseen solutions. Capturing these fragments is like planting seeds. In many cases, I’m uncertain what they mean or if they’ll grow into solutions when they first enter my notebook.

Beethoven carried a notebook at all times. After filling the pages he’d put it away and start a new one. Within a month or so, he’d revisit the earlier notebook. If an idea struck him as he culled through the pages, he’d transfer it to a second notebook and the process continued. By the time his ideas reached the third notebook, they were well on the way to becoming a sonata. Imagine if he had ignored those initial flashes. While not all seeds take root… if we plant enough, we increase our odds of success. In Beethoven’s case, the seeds he planted have been bearing fruit for generations.

In addition to Beethoven, consider Leonardo da Vinci, Charles Darwin, Madame Curie, Thomas Jefferson, Amelia Earhart, Thomas Edison, Emily Dickinson, Albert Einstein… you get the idea. These historic individuals, who exposed unseen solutions and created new realities, all shared a common practice. They carried notebooks and captured the fleeting gifts they were given. I often wonder if notebooks are a product of brilliant people… or if brilliant people are a product of notebooks.

In Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance, Robert Pirsig writes, “It is a puzzling thing. The truth knocks on the door and you say, ‘Go away, I’m looking for the truth,’ and so it goes away.”

If you’re not already doing so, I encourage you to start answering the door before more gifts go away. Get a notebook or a journal and write down your ideas, observations and insights when they appear. In addition to seeing unseen solutions, you’ll discover this practice is therapeutic. It brings clarity and makes room for more possibilities.

Back in the day we used to have a garden. While it takes time, gardening is a viable solution to the current alternatives. And what isn’t eaten during the growing season can be shared, canned and frozen. As I drove, I envisioned my family working with me… everyone pitching in and reaping a bounty of fresh produce. I imagined sharing with my neighbors and… then reality struck! I live in downtown Chicago, and there’s not a lot of arable land on the 28^th floor!

Soon I found myself in the suburbs, driving down a residential street. An elderly couple stood in their yard talking to a couple guys in uniforms… and then I spotted the lawn chemical truck in the driveway.

I remembered spending money on lawn chemicals when we lived in the suburbs. Why do people spend time and money growing, cutting and maintaining grass? Who came up with this idea? Is it social conditioning, tradition… perceptual blindness? My questions triggered a rush of ideas and visions… I had a flashback to my time spent in Germany. The cemeteries I had visited there were so beautiful and the locals took such pride in creating and maintaining them. I began to envision suburban neighborhoods filled with beautiful gardens… like a Monet painting composed of fruit trees, herbs and vegetables. Visions of crop circles, corn mazes and rows of fruit trees, and beautifully designed vegetable patterns of all shapes, colors and kinds raced through my head. My brain was crystallizing with interconnected concepts and possibilities. The benefits of replacing worthless grass lawns with beautiful functioning gardens seemed endless…

Fresh healthy food right from your own yard… unemployed and retired citizens would stay active, eat healthier and reduce food costs… neighbors would reconnect and establish a new sense of purpose and community… home real estate investments would provide additional returns… physical exercise would help to reduce heart disease, obesity, diabetes and high blood pressure, and by extension, reduce medical costs… creativity and learning would improve through exploration of gardening methods (collecting, bartering, developing, selling and exchanging seeds/products, recipes, ideas, labor and expertise with one another)… kids would experience nature, learn about healthy food, responsibility, community, and have fun getting their hands dirty in the process… new jobs would be created for landscape designers, tool and equipment manufacturers, entrepreneurs interested in packaging, storing, canning, making deliveries, and creating healthy products from fresh produce… the possibilities are endless… and the physical, psychological and spiritual benefits are too numerous to list.

I reached my destination and parked the car but my mind continued racing with possibilities. Could this idea really work? Thomas Jefferson believed that an agrarian national economy with many small independent farmers would ensure America’s freedom. My idea goes a step further—a nation of independent gardeners! I don’t know if this concept could work… but I do know the current solution isn’t the answer.

I’m sharing my thoughts not as a solution, but as seeds of potential. We never know if our ideas will take root until we plant them. Perhaps this idea could start in one or two neighborhoods… find some success and spread. That’s how these things typically work.

To quote Margaret Mead, “Never underestimate the power of a small group of people to change the world.  In fact, it is the only way it ever has.”

As for me, I’m exploring the vacant lot across the street (currently labeled a problem), and a potential rooftop garden for our building. The possibilities are endless… the world we focus on is the world we create. I hope you will share your thoughts and ideas… and point out the pieces I missed on my drive.

You made me cry, she said, but quickly added, tears of joy.

During my speech I had explained how our focus creates our reality. If we focus on trouble, we’ll find it. If we focus on happiness, it will appear. I also shared how labels influence our perception. When we label something a problem, it becomes one… and we stop seeing it as anything else.

My speech ended with a story about a kid who quit school in 2nd grade. He didn’t actually quit attending—he just stopped participating. He was smart—but didn’t do well in school. Based on his free spirit, unusual views, pointed questions, and disdain toward academics, some teachers and adults labeled him as a “problem.” This label stuck and became a self-fulfilling prophecy up until the end of high school. Then an unexpected event took place—one that would forever change his life. To the amazement of many, the “problem” kid not only attended college, but was accepted into a competitive program and graduated first in his class. From there, the boy who quit school in 2nd grade founded and built a multi-million dollar visual communications firm, became an internationally recognized designer, and attracted a client roster that read like the Who’s Who of Business. After twenty consecutive years of growth, he sold his firm and became a best-selling author, creative consultant and public speaker… and I’m honored to be speaking to you tonight, I concluded.

What unexpected event changed my life?

I will let you know in a future post… it involves someone seeing past the “problem” label I’d been given. But for now, back to Carol.

As we stood in the corridor, Carol shared with me how her adult son had made some wrong turns and lost his way. Problems have become his focus… and mine, too, she admitted, glancing downward. He has so many gifts–so much to offer the world. It’s true… labels can become self-fulfilling prophecies, she continued, but only if we let them!

We talked for a few more minutes. Then realizing I was in jeopardy of missing my flight, I thanked her for sharing her story with me and wished her and her son the best.

No, thank you for removing my blinders. People who can look past labels and see unseen solutions are very special. Then she smiled and added, But you already know that… it’s the reason you’re here tonight.

Indeed I do.

It’s late. The final Pink Bat manuscript is due tomorrow. From my office I can see several Chicago landmark buildings lit with pink lights. It’s Breast Cancer Awareness Month. Amidst this pink glow—the posters, the ribbons, and special events—we are all reminded of the search for solutions to save lives. The color connection to this cause… and my book title… is obvious. Less obvious, but more relevant, is the thinking found inside.

For every problem, there exists a solution… and at the very least, an opportunity. Breast cancer is no different. But it takes an open mind… imagination, purpose and passion… to find it. In time, this “problem” will be viewed differently… and an unseen solution will appear. Perhaps an outsider will see what experienced insiders have missed. Someone less influenced by perceptual blindness… an unlikely suspect.

My reasons for writing Pink Bat were to plant some seeds, capture imaginations, and inspire people to see the world in a new light. I hope I’ve accomplished these objectives in some way.

You can live each day in a world filled with “problems,” or rise each morning and embrace a world filled with unseen solutions… eager for you to find them. The decision is yours… both worlds exist. The one you choose is the one you will create.

A year has passed… and much has changed.

According to the American Cancer Society, about 1.3 million women will be diagnosed with breast cancer and about 465,000 will die from the disease. This is unacceptable.

On a personal note, my mom was diagnosed with colon cancer a few months ago and my father-in-law with bladder cancer. They are both currently in treatment. Hopefully these cancers were caught in time. Whether it’s breast cancer or any other kind of cancer, prevention and early detection are key.

As I write this post, Pink Bat is back at press—again. It has done well and I have received many positive responses—personal stories, examples and insights. Thank you. In light of all that’s happened since releasing it, and all that remains, I’m discounting Pink Bat this month to $11.95 and donating a portion of the proceeds to cancer research for every book sold.

Be inspired! Watch the Pink Bat video.

Click here to view the embedded video.

“What if I stood at a real whiteboard and you actually filmed me drawing?” I suggested. Ryan agreed to give it a try but stressed, “We won’t be able to refine or manipulate your drawings to look perfect… like those in the UPS commercials.” After purchasing a 4’ x 8’ sheet of whiteboard material, we set up a makeshift studio in Ryan’s living room and did a few quick tests. Before long, we concluded while this approach was somewhat problematic—and not real plausible—it was possible. That was all it took.

After writing an outline and creating visuals to support my words, I had another friend, Megan Kearney produce my drawings in Adobe Illustrator for reference… and then I flew to San Antonio to deliver a 90-minute keynote to an audience of educators, followed by a Q&A session with the leadership team. Feeling somewhat exhausted, I arrived back in Chicago late Thursday night only to realize we were scheduled to make this video in the morning.

Running on few hours of sleep and many cups of coffee, I arrived at Ryan’s house Friday morning to find him bright-eyed and ready to go. “I’ve been thinking, I really like the idea of making this video in the spirit of early recording artists,” he said. “What do you mean?” I asked, trying to appear awake. He cited numerous songs, examples and musicians including Robert Johnson, Aretha Franklin and Bob Dylan. “They just went into the studio and performed. They didn’t rely on digital manipulation, special effects or post-production tricks to make the work appear ‘perfect’… like most current artists and the UPS commercials do. They’re real, spontaneous, unique, authentic and unrefined… and that’s what makes them great.”

I knew Ryan was being sincere… I also knew he was aware of the fact I can be an extreme perfectionist at times. Additionally, not being a professional cartoonist… he didn’t want to spend hours recording me, making refinement after refinement. By connecting words like “real”, “spontaneous”, and “unrefined” to “being great”, he established our paradigm for the shoot.

“Okay, Ryan, your idea resonates with me,” I said, reflecting the “unique” and “unrefined” but “great” garage bands I played in when I was younger. Besides, I didn’t have any extra energy to debate him.

“Great… let’s do it. One camera and one take—you and me—start to finish!” Ryan announced. That’s exactly what we did. While I would have liked a do-over (or two or three), we agreed that “keeping it real” was more important.

After all, “Pink Bat” is about “Turning Problems Into Solutions”… and that sheds much light on the making of this video. I hope you enjoy it. Click here to purchase the book.

During the journey, Huck is bothered by the fact he’s helping Jim escape. He realizes by doing so he’s actually “stealing” someone’s property. At one point, his conscience gets the best of him and here’s what follows:

So I was full of trouble, full as I could be; and didn’t know what to do. At last I had an idea; and I says, I’ll go and write the letter – and then see if I can pray. Why, it was astonishing, the way I felt as light as a feather right straight off, and my troubles all gone. So I got a piece of paper and a pencil, all glad and excited, and set down and wrote:

Miss Watson, your runaway nigger Jim is down here two mile below Pikesville, and Mr. Phelps has got him and he will give him up for the reward if you send. Huck Finn.

I felt good and all washed clean of sin for the first time I had ever felt so in my life, and I knowed I could pray now. But I didn’t do it straight off, but laid the paper down and set there thinking – thinking how good it was all this happened so, and how near I come to being lost and going to hell. And went on thinking. And got to thinking over our trip down the river; and I see Jim before me all the time: in the day and in the night-time, sometimes moonlight, sometimes storms, and we a-floating along, talking and singing and laughing.But somehow I couldn’t seem to strike no places to harden me against him, but only the other kind. I’d see him standing my watch on top of his’n, ’stead of calling me, so I could go on sleeping; and see him how glad he was when I come back out of the fog; and when I come to him again in the swamp, up there where the feud was; and suchlike times; and would always call me honey, and pet me, and do everything he could think of for me, and how good he always was; and at last I struck the time I saved him by telling the men we had smallpox aboard, and he was so grateful, and said I was the best friend old Jim ever had in the world, and the only one he’s got now; and then I happened to look around and see that paper.

It was a close place. I took it up, and held it in my hand. I was a-trembling, because I’d got to decide, forever, betwixt two things, and I knowed it. I studied a minute, sort of holding my breath, and then says to myself:

“All right, then, I’ll go to hell” – and tore it up.

Twain forces us to confront the reality of slavery head-on. When Huck reaches this moral crisis, he makes a decision. Was he right to violate the accepted social code and religious dogma he’d been raised to believe or should he have betrayed an innocent individual who needed and loved him… and someone whom he loved and needed, too? To most, this decision seems obvious. But like today’s moral dilemmas, it didn’t back then.

Going against tradition or society’s accepted norms isn’t easy… even when you’re doing what’s right. No doubt, many members of today’s society consider those who challenge the status quo to be wrong, guilty… or even dangerous. If you study history and reflect on your own life, you realize time has a way of shedding light on our choices. Right, wrong or indifferent, they are all exposed with time. We can justify them, but that won’t change them… we are each individually responsible for the choices we make. That said, if doing what’s right means doing what’s wrong, I concur with Huck Finn… “All right, then, I’ll go to hell.” What about you?