There is so much of life we can’t control or predict; it’s become important to me to focus on the part of life I can control and the things I want to do and be.

It sounds strange to say it; it seems too obvious and so much of a cliche – doing good is good.

I realized a few years ago that if I want to feel good every day or content, I need to do good every day that I can; I need to know I’m working to leave the world in a slighter better place than I found it.

(Picture above. Maria and DorLisa, one of our very favorite Mansion aides. She has a heart as big as a skyscraper. We brought horse plants to Memory Care for a woman who loves caring for them. First good deed of the day)

For me, the path is small acts of great kindness, the small ways that were the world-changing idea of Saint Therese.  I don’t do big things, but I believe, alongside the Army of Good, that we have improved hundreds, perhaps thousands of lives, people young and old.

We have eased the lives of the Mansion residents, and opened the doors to America for scores of refugee children.

I’ve put together several ways to do this regularly – the Mansion, the refugee children, some immigrant farm workers living in decaying trailers, and my day-to-day dealings with people. And the even smaller ways – dropping flowers off in a migrant worker trailer.

I write about things that are good and that make me feel good.

I try to be good, supportive, and courteous. I don’t always make it, but I always try.

I live in a world of good, even though I am keenly aware there is suffering, pain, violence, and hatred all around me. The people I know are good.

The people in the Army of Good are good. My friends and neighbors are good.

My wife is good.

My Meditation Class at the Mansion is good.

The refugee children are suitable.

Sue Silverstein is good.

My daughter is good.

My farm is good.

My blog is getting good.

My donkeys and dogs are good.

Even my doctors are good.

The garden people who educate me are good, and so are the many thousands of people who support my work.

We all have our ways of looking at the world, even though our culture elevates and celebrates the bad, not the good. Millions of people do good every day but rarely make it to the news.

It takes a lot of work to focus on the good. It is well worth it.

I talked to a friend about our trek to the Mansion to bring flowers. “I think that doing good breeds more good,” I said, “I believe good things happen to good people.”

She paused. “Well, maybe,” she said, “maybe that’s true sometimes. But bad things happen to good people too.”

Interestingly, she needed to add that disclaimer, as so many people do. But there are bad people, too.

Yes, we know.

It’s as if we are no longer allowed to accept the good in people, which I see daily in many different ways.

We seem afraid to let the good be good; we must hang onto the bad.

We all know that bad things happen to people, good and bad.

I dislike disclaimers and rarely use them. A lot of bad things have happened to me.  I was a police reporter and political writer. I know what people are capable of.

But pain is inevitable. Suffering is a choice.

As I began to awaken., to be “woke,” if you will, I thought more and more about the values offered in every stage of life. As E.M. Forster wrote, “We must be willing to let go of the life we have planned to have the life that is waiting for us.”

That’s easier said than done. But it’s doable.

This life is waiting for me; doing good is my purpose. So is happiness.  I don’t need to remind myself every day there is evil in the world; I don’t live in a cave. I don’t need to say I maybe happy now, but who knows about tomorrow?

I’ll take every day of happiness with no apologies or disclaimers.

Perhaps the most crucial dimension of aging is the awareness that there is a purpose to life and aging. The intention is built into every stage of life, no less this one than any other.

Every period of life has its purpose. Every new period calls on us to think about what our purpose ought to be. People without a purpose remind me of T.S. Eliot’s “hollow men.” They are just existing.

My purpose is to hang on and watch myself age in the mirror. It is to come alive in ways I have never been active before.

Right now, this morning, I live in a world of good and do whatever good I can. I don’t participate in the hate; life is way too short.

I’m not a hater, arguer, or complainer; I won’t get on that train. I don’t fill my life with grievances and complaints. Not anymore.

My purpose in these coming years is not simply to survive, exist, or live. It’s to be more alive than ever. Doing good is my way of doing that, my purpose.