FUNDAMENTAL
Soon after posting this week’s essay on “Wisdom,” I began to wonder what the next post might be. I thought, “All right, it seems that you left out a lot yesterday.” People want and need something to go on, to live by, as we walk this elusive path toward better understanding of who we are, who we should be.
One word emerged: Fundamentals
Are there concepts—foundational pillars—that underpin our search, hold us up when the going gets rough, when the very earth beneath our feet begins to shake?
I began searching to see whether I might discern, for myself and others, essential “wisdom teachings.”
My first thought: “Is your title, your seminal thought (fundamental), perhaps itself fraught with danger?” The word sounds powerful. Is it egotistical to even contemplate that one person might hand down a “stone tablet”?
That was frightening. First, it seemed too tall a mountain to climb, but then it began to beckon, to become something like a “wicked” temptation. Should anyone truly even attempt such a sacrilege, much less be prepared to presume to “preach” it?
I hope that I am somehow communicating to you a true existential moment. I came close to stopping right there. Then I said, “coward.” You do not need to preach anything—just try to find enough remedial thoughts to heal your own yearning.
And so, as humbly as possible, I shall try to work through my musings for whatever they are worth.
But first, a “caveat.” This piece should in no way imply that I wish to become a “fundamentalist” on any topic. Rather, know without question that this is my mantra:
“All I know is that I know nothing, and furthermore, I am not so sure about that.”
I say this because, in the course of my personal and professional life, I have encountered—and been offended and indeed harmed—by several brands of fundamentalism. Experience tells me that it is, almost always, exclusionary and anti-intellectual. My preference is to keep interpersonal doors open, not closed and locked.
These emerged as my fundamentals (with short notes).
Listening is essential and constant talk counterproductive
I am a “natural” storyteller (ask just about anyone I know). My favorite high school teacher delivered exceptional preparation in Latin, grammar, and literature, and made us do vocabulary exercises for college prep. I was almost an English major. I was ultimately trained in “the law” and became a teacher. I was required to publish or perish (I almost did the latter). In other words, to paraphrase the great philosopher Muhammad Ali in an interview with Howard Cosell: “Boxing has been my life, Howard” (for me, “words”).
What I think, I tend to say. Just ask my lovely partner in life. It has cost me dearly in friendships. Some folks tend to take “fierce conversation” personally.
I am gradually learning to balance speaking and listening, a difficult task for me.
Empathy may be one’s most powerful weapon against discrimination and separation
Lack of empathy encourages closed-mindedness. In the words of Taylor Goldsmith, “It is hard to hate someone if you know what they’ve been through”, therefore, have ‘encounters’ with others—do not just move amongst them.”
You may ask anyone. I think that I am a kind person, generally speaking. My mate, among others, is trying to teach me more empathy for individuals, especially those who do not at first seem “worthy.” Thich Nhat Hanh, the great Vietnamese Buddhist monk, was known for practicing and preaching empathy in everything that he did (“Peace Is Every Step” was his lesson to the world and a book title).
Empathy is not easy in a world as divided as ours. Even Thich Nhat Hanh was forced to admit that there is a limit to our capacity to practice it. We must not let it destroy our own personhood.
Despite our differences, we all share a common and fragile existence.
Essential Practices
Music “hath charms” (and poetry)
Music, according to some wise people, is the universal language. We have been creating and performing songs since well before written language emerged. We told our histories and preserved our memories for the next generation.
It may just come from the spheres—the vast space that is still evolving and may be sending us messages and singing the creation story. It cheers us up and embraces our sorrows.
Reading is essential
Whether fiction or non-fiction, we must return to reading serious prose and poetry. Reading news and opinion online is not only a source of vexation but also debilitating.
We have scores of novels, short stories, poetry—both deep and humorous—wisdom-seeking essays and tomes.
When the mind is engaged with the works of authors who raise questions, we begin the journey toward “natural” intelligence.
Read Loren Eiseley, The Immense Journey.
Communion over shared meals brings us together in essential ways
Once the unquestioned gathering of family and friends, the shared meal is nearing extinction. It is quite often a casualty of the necessity of providing the means of surviving.
Do not let it be gone for you and yours.
If for only minutes a day, sit with your loved ones and give thanks for the communion. Invite friends to a sit-down, to a meal prepared from scratch.
Feast (with candles and flowers and your favorite beverage—yes, water became wine).
Create your own rituals.
If one separates oneself from a relationship with the natural world, it erodes soul and spirit
Get outside.
Plant a garden.
Take a walk around the block.
Visit the closest park.
Fall in love with a tree.
Look up. Watch the clouds go by. Notice a hawk on the wing.
I planted and tended, almost alone, a four-acre vineyard and lived among wild turkeys, pileated woodpeckers, does and fawns, woodchucks who dug holes and tried to break my ankles.
When I picked my first harvest, it made me feel as if I were rich.
The taste of one Barbera grape brought tears to my eyes.
It is unlikely that an individual can achieve true, fuller wisdom alone
Contemplation, meditation, sitting alone and still have their place, but exploring joys and sorrows with another human being is essential.
Find one or two others whom you can trust. Tell them your concerns and listen to theirs.
Let each other know that it is both a blessing and a curse to be truly you.
Wisdom is experiential, not a given
We learn from observing reality as it unfolds.
Make note of phenomena that confound.
Ponder them.
Nothing is all right or all wrong.
Learn from “seeing a lot just by looking” (Yogi Berra).
Fundamentalist thinking is egoistic
If you believe you know it all, have discovered the truth, then you just might be “all wrong”!
Lastly (and I will warn you), many of us do not want to hear this…
Turn off the TV.
Stop incessant scrolling.
Put down the phone.
Consult search engines only when necessary. They are full of rabbit holes.
Do you see—understand—that your attention has been commoditized and is being “sold” for someone else’s profit?
Invest yourself for your benefit, not theirs.
I am well aware that we might somehow have become addicted to these things as useful, convenient, and necessary. They are all those things and more. Take charge of your precious gift of time…spent intentionally with others… and yourself. If one loses herself, what is left of any value; you no longer have the capacity to “give”, voluntarily. You have become someone else’s prisoner.
Finale
Look, I do not pretend to “know” these things.
The idea of writing this piece, and a number of its components, came to me unbidden in the middle of the night. The essence of it, I think, arrived during a long conversation with an extremely talented musician and a very “wise” soul. We were talking about the “art” of composing. He revealed to us that he had piles of music in a cabinet that had never been recorded or even performed.
The reason? Had he determined that they were not “good” music or poorly constructed? No, he explained. Rather, when he listened to them, they were not “true.” He saw that we were confused about what that meant. He explained further, after years of composing, that he knows how to write musically professional pieces. He knew because he had done it many times, quite often because of a “commission.” Someone said, “Would you write a piece for me about…?” He could and did, to the requester’s satisfaction.
Further, he said—and I am trying very hard to recapture his exact words:
“Writing very fine music is not an ‘intellectual’ endeavor. Creating the best comes from the ‘consciousness’ of the artist. The great composers received their musical ideas and created their compositions therefrom.”
The many pieces tucked away in their cubbies were quite simply not “true,” not a reflection of the nature of the artist who conceived them.
Make of this what you will, but I propose that all these ruminations are a lesson to those of us who yearn to be “wise.” It is not a totally “rational” endeavor. It is about being still and listening to the “still, small voice” from a place of mystery.
But don’t believe me. Once again, I turn to my musical sources for guidance. After all, true “art” proceeds from the beauty of a mind in search of meaning.
Here is Mary Chapin Carpenter (Late for Your Life)
Well, no one knows where they belong
The search just goes on and on and on
For every choice that ends up wrong
Another one's right
A change of scene would sure be great
The thought is nice to contemplate
But the question begs why would you wait
And be late for your life?
Or Bonnie Raitt (Fundamental Things)
Let's get back to the fundamental things
Let's get back to the elements of style
Let's get back to simple skin on skin
Let's get back to the fundamental things
Let's dance barefoot over broken glass
Slither like a snake does through the wet, cold grass
Howl and tremble in a sleepless grind
Let's do the brain drain, leave it all behind, or
You can sit in your room and worry
You can contemplate the end
This seems to be an invitation to strip away life's complications, anxieties, and artificiality to embrace raw, honest, and "fundamental" experiences. It advocates for spontaneity—like running naked through city streets—and finding authentic connection, emotional freedom, and innocence rather than wasting time worrying or hiding.
The lyrics urge listeners to move past the "carefully prearranged" nature of modern life and focus on simple, tangible joys and human connection.
Instead of hiding or dwelling on past mistakes, the song encourages a return to a more natural state, be here now.
Conclusions
In the act of putting myself through these paces, I began to realize that I seemed to be crafting a comprehensive personal philosophy. But I also became aware of how unlikely it will be to put it into practice. I discerned, to my consternation, that in this hurried world, built upon a doctrine of ever-increasing productivity, who can pause for even a half hour of consideration, much less contemplation?
May I suggest a starting point?
Make a time; give yourself a gift. When you awake, whether you lie abed or go to your special quiet place, say, “I will make this day different in some essential way.” Choose from the ideas I have suggested. Concentrate on that one single thing. Stay aware of it. If you want to be treated better by the world, make someone else’s day better, for instance. Smiling and saying hello seems a small thing, but acknowledgement is something we all desire—to be told, “you matter.”
If we wish to pursue wisdom and enhance our lives, we must start somewhere. I have found, with respect to almost every “resolution,” that beginning is the hardest part.
Just put one foot on the path.
One Truly Final Thing
Some years ago, I received a gift. I was in the Colchagua Valley of Chile, South America, with family. We were staying at a charming country B&B. I awoke one morning to the strains of a lovely piece of music (the weather was perfect and the sliding glass door was open). I rose gently from bed and went to the exit. Much to my surprise, my youngest son was sitting on the porch…listening to the piece. The scene was ethereal.
I revisited the composition from time to time. Several months ago, I began an early morning ritual. I rise around five and sit for an hour or so in silence. I begin the day wrapped in the inspirational beauty of this piece and am simply still for an hour or so. The title tells the tale: “Hymn to a Blue Hour,” by the American composer John Mackey. I cannot recommend it to you more highly. Only you can decide if it is “true” for you.
Because of the reality of “human-sounding” language, I feel compelled to affirm that the words you just read were spoken by a human. Please join with me in pledging that, to the best of your ability, you will avoid any document that might have been written by a machine.
This essay is dedicated to my two beautiful boys and commended to their reading.
E. Clayton Hipp, Jr., February 20, 2026.
Not to be used without permission of the author.