IF NOT NOW, WHEN?
A soft-spoken friend from Colombia recently wrote to me:
“Me encantaría verte, sigue disfrutando de todo lo que esta hermosa vida te da.”
(“I would love to see you. Continue enjoying all that this beautiful life gives you.”)
Around the same time, a dear friend from Iran sent me a verse from Hafez, Ghazal 101:
Forsat shomar ghanīmat mey khor ke dar jahān
Joz īn ghadar nemī-ravad az mā be yādegār.
“Cherish the opportunity, and drink the wine of the moment; for in this world, nothing else will remain of us as a memorial.”
The words of the Nobel Prize-winning writer V. S. Naipaul have also stayed with me over the years:
“Most people are not really free. They are confined by the niche in the world that they carve out for themselves. They limit themselves to fewer possibilities by the narrowness of their vision.”
People often praise nonconformity in theory, yet willingly queue for conformity when it is offered in practice. Whether one is in China, Taiwan, the United States, Suriname, India, or Cambodia, the desire to belong often outweighs the desire to think independently. Nationalities change; the words remain remarkably similar.
The prospect of what many call a “normal life” increasingly requires conformity. Young graduates in the United States and Britain are discovering what millions of university graduates elsewhere have known for decades: a university degree does not necessarily open the doors to prosperity. Only a few years ago, ambitious students flocked to study computer science and business. Today, many of those same professions are being reshaped by artificial intelligence.
Among the Native American communities with whom I work, my friend Luis LaRose of the Ho-Chunk Nation once jokingly referred to me as a “Talking Brown Sugar Doctor.” It was said with affection, and it reminded me that identity is often far more fluid and humorous than the rigid labels imposed by society.
Artificial intelligence is now forcing its way into our lives. We can resist it, or we can adapt to it, much as we adapted to word processors, online reading, social media, and smartphones. Unlike social media, which one can choose to ignore, AI is rapidly becoming woven into professional and social life. For me, it has become an invaluable tool for keeping pace with scientific advances and technological change.
One of the most memorable conversations of my life took place shortly after I arrived in Cuba in 1995.
Professor José Altshuler Gutwert, historian of science, former Vice-Rector of the University of Havana, and President of the Cuban Society for the History of Science and Technology. Professor Altshuler, whose Polish Jewish immigrant father may have been among the founders of the Cuban Communist Party, offered an observation I have never forgotten:
“If you think primarily of yourself, go to a country where personal advancement is rewarded and you may prosper. But if your deepest concern is the welfare of others, then you have arrived in paradise.”
Whether or not one agrees with his conclusion, it captured something essential about the spirit I encountered during my época de oro in Cuba, both in Baracoa and Havana.
You do not have to die to find paradise.
The great Rabbi Hillel taught:
“If I am not for myself, who will be for me? But if I am only for myself, what am I? And if not now, when?”
And the beloved Omar Khayyam of Nishapur, whose verses have accompanied me since childhood, wrote:
“Ah, fill the Cup: what boots it to repeat
How Time is slipping underneath our Feet;
Unborn Tomorrow and dead Yesterday,
Why fret about them if Today be sweet?”
Last night, I enjoyed the excellent Khmer cuisine of Chef Kimsan Pol, accompanied by a glass of Australian Shiraz.
What do Hafez, Khayyam, Rabbi Hillel, Professor Altshuler, and even Naipaul have in common?
Each, in his own way, reminds us that happiness is not postponed to some distant future. It is not guaranteed by conformity, wealth, status, ideology, or the approval of others. Life is fleeting. We are called to think independently, care for others, embrace the present moment, and live with purpose.
Yet many people reject these lessons and then complain about their exclusion from happiness.
Perhaps the gate to happiness was never locked. Perhaps it simply required the courage to walk through it.
Greetings from Cambodia.
