This difference between what we think we want to do, and what we actually do, is part of the human condition. St Paul said it best when he exclaimed that he does what he doesn’t want to do, and he doesn’t do what he does want to do. “What a wretched man am I!” he moaned. If we’re honest, we’ve all been there. Into this gap, discipline finds its home. 

Ned shares the powerful story of Binh Nguyen, a Vietnamese political prisoner who, even in the darkest circumstances, practiced gratitude and transformed not only his own suffering but also the hearts of his captors. His example reminds us that cultivating awe, wonder, and gratitude isn’t just a personal practice—it is a necessary foundation for hope and action in difficult times.

Not long ago, I spent six days backpacking in the wilds of the Olympic Mountains.  Those beauties have been calling my soul for years now—a clarion call that has pierced my body, caused my heart to leap and sing, and, on this particular trip, my feet to dance.  Lao Tzu wondered in the Tao Te Ching, "Who will prefer the jingle of jade pendants if he once has heard stone growing in a cliff?"  That is worth retyping, to say nothing of rereading. "Who will prefer the jingle of jade pendants if he once has heard stone growing in a cliff?"

In the mountains, snow is blanketing the earth with hushed white stillness.  The solstice is upon us, shadows have lengthened, days wane short, the earth’s pulse has moved subterranean—winter is coming.

Young men especially are deeply hurting.  Suicide rates skyrocketed up 40 percent for them since 2010.  Just sit with that for a moment.  Meanwhile, participation in education is plummeting, with two women for every male student on college campuses today.  In high schools, gone are the days of woodworking, welding, and auto mechanics, while blue collar men are facing fewer opportunities at lower real wages. With the advent of robots, AI, and other technology replacing jobs, these challenges are not going away.