Raised Dots

This is a mental game.

What?

Life.

Oh.

Sure, there's lots of physical.

But the game is mental.

And therefore, spiritual, too.

One of my heroes is the late great Charlie Munger.

He really isn't known for much besides make a lot of money.

But this is a true disservice to his life.

Because what I love about him is just how tough he was.

He went through horrific events.

Yeah, even billionaires have tragedy.

And while I won't mention his gravest, I will share one.

Charlie loved to read.

Voracious.

I believe he enjoyed it more than making money (which he enjoyed a lot).

And there was a time in his life where he believed he was going to lose sight in his last working eye.

For you see, he had been half-blind for years.

Already down to 50%.

And for a lover of reading, this didn't get Charlie down.

He kept reading with his one good eye.

And then, later in his life, there was a realistic chance that he was losing the vision in his good eye.

So what did he do?

Mope about it?

Cry about it?

Call it a life?

Oh no.

Not Mr. Munger.

Instead, he learned braille.

So he could continue to read.

Even if he couldn't see the words.

He would learn to feel them.

Touch them.

Like goose bumps.

He wouldn't give up one of his favorite things to do.

📗

Simply because he couldn't see the words.

Instead, he would learn to feel them.

As a young man, I measured toughness by how many villains you could slay.

And how unscathed you'd be after it all.

But the reality is, that's not toughness.

I mean it is, but work with me here.

Toughness is being told, "Hey, you're already half blind, but your other eye is going, too."

And after a period of processing, you get to work.

You bounce back and learn to read with your other senses.

I'd probably go audiobooks.

I prefer them now anyways.

But my ears are starting to go.

My eyes aren't the greatest either.

Part of the long term effects of surviving what I am surviving.

Thank you, God.

We all like to think toughness looks like muscular headbanded mullets holding a machine gun in each hand.

Or maybe just me as an 80s kid.

But really, true toughness looks like everyone else.

Can be in everyone else.

Like inside you and inside me.

Sometimes in an old man in a nice suit, just shuffling through his favorite books.

Another kind of unstoppable.

Rest in peace, Charlie.

Hope you know, now.

👼