Wednesday, February 23, 2022

#WingedWordsWindsday: 02/23/2022 -- Insights on Leadership from Ancient Egypt

 WINGED WORDS WINDSDAY

Compiled by Rob Chappell (@RHCLambengolmo)

Vol. 1, No. 17: February 23, 2022

 




 

Insights on Leadership from Ancient Egypt

 


“The Wisdom of the Elders: Ptahhotep”

By Rob Chappell, M.A.

Adapted & Condensed from the February 2014 Issue of the Illinois Administrative Professionals’ Newsletter

                Contemporary Western culture places a high value on youth and strength, not on age and wisdom. This emphasis is a rather recent innovation; just a few hundred years ago, reaching the silver years was considered to be the crowning achievement of human life. Elders were widely revered and consulted because of their long years of experience and valuable insight into the human condition. The reverence due to elderhood is still practiced every day by billions of people around the world. In honor of African-American History Month in February, let’s take a look at an ancient African sage to see what lessons we can learn from him about leadership and elderhood.

                Ptahhotep was an Egyptian sage who flourished around 2400 BCE. He was prime minister (grand vizier) to King Isesi, a Pharaoh of Egypt’s Fifth Dynasty. Ptahhotep was renowned for his great learning and wisdom, along with his remarkable longevity (he lived to be 110 years old!). His chief claim to fame, however, is his authorship of the oldest known book in world literature, the Maxims of Good Discourse, in which he instructed his son with wise proverbs and common-sense advice so that he could acquire good leadership qualities and achieve success and fulfillment in life.

 

Ancient Egyptian portrait of Ptahhotep, the wise elder statesman. (Image Credit: Public Domain)

 

                Here are some of the lessons that Ptahhotep recorded in his book and that still speak to us today, across a gulf of 44 centuries. (The Editor has slightly modernized the spelling and grammar of this translation from a century ago.)

 

·         B. Here begin the proverbs of fair speech, spoken by the Hereditary Chief, the Holy Father, Beloved of God, the Eldest Son of the King, of his body, the Governor of his City, the Vizier, Ptah-Hotep, when instructing the ignorant in the knowledge of exactness in fair speaking; the glory of him that obeys, the shame of him that transgresses them. He said unto his son:

·         5. If you are a leader, as one directing the conduct of the multitude, endeavor always to be gracious, that your own conduct may be without defect. Great is Truth, appointing a straight path; never has it been overthrown since the reign of Osiris. One that oversteps the laws shall be punished. Overstepping is by the covetous man; but degradations bear off his riches. Never has evil-doing brought its venture safe to port. For he says, “I will obtain by myself for myself,” and says not, “I will obtain because I am allowed.” But the limits of justice are steadfast; it is that which a man repeats from his father.

·         16. If you are a leader, cause that the rules that you have enjoined to be carried out; and do all things as one that remembers the days coming after, when speech avails not. Be not lavish of favors; it leads to servility, producing slackness.

·         17. If you are a leader, be gracious when you hearken unto the speech of a suppliant. Let him not hesitate to deliver himself of that which he has thought to tell you; but be desirous of removing his injury. Let him speak freely, that the thing for which he has come to you may be done. If he hesitates to open his heart, it is said, “Is it because he — the judge – does the wrong that no entreaties are made to him concerning it by those to whom it happens?” But a well taught heart hearkens readily.

·         25. If you are powerful, make yourself to be honored for knowledge and for gentleness. Speak with authority, that is, not as if following injunctions, for he that is humble – when highly placed – falls into errors. Exalt not your heart, that it not be brought low. Be not silent, but beware of interruption and of answering words with heat. Put it far from you; control yourself. The wrathful heart speaks fiery words; it darts out at the man of peace that approaches, stopping his path. One that reckons accounts all the day passes not a happy moment. One that gladdens his heart all the day provides not for his house. The bowman hits the mark, as the steersman reaches land, by diversity of aim. He that obeys his heart shall command.

·         34. Let your face be bright what time you live. That which goes into the storehouse must come out therefrom; and bread is to be shared. He that is grasping in entertainment shall himself have an empty belly; he that causes strife comes himself to sorrow. Take not such a one for your companion. It is a man’s kindly acts that are remembered of him in the years after his life.

·         D. If now you attain your position, the body shall flourish, the King shall be content in all that you do, and you shall gather years of life not fewer than I have passed upon earth. I have gathered even 110 years of life, for the King has bestowed upon me favors more than upon my forefathers; this is because I wrought truth and justice for the King unto my old age. It is finished, from its beginning to its end, even as found in writing.

 

Editor’s Note: The complete text of Ptahhotep’s Maxims of Good Discourse can be read in Brian Brown’s classic 1923 book, The Wisdom of the Egyptians, at http://www.sacred-texts.com/egy/woe/.

 

“Egypt”

By Gerald Massey (1828-1907)

 

EGYPT! How I have dwelt with you in dreams,

So long, so intimately, that it seems

As if you had borne me; though I could not know

It was so many thousand years ago!

 

And in my gropings darkly underground

The long-lost memory at last is found

Of motherhood – you Mother of us all!

 

And to my fellow-men I must recall

The memory too; that common motherhood

May help to make the common brotherhood.

 

Egypt! it lies there in the far-off past,

Opening with depths profound and growths as vast

As the great valley of Yosemite;

The birthplace out of darkness into day;

The shaping matrix of the human mind;

The Cradle and the Nursery of our kind.

 

This was the land created from the flood,

The land of Atum, made of the red mud,

Where Num sat in his Teba throned on high,

And saw the deluge once a year go by,

Each brimming with the blessing that it brought,

And by that waterway, in Egypt's thought,

The gods descended; but they never hurled

The Deluge that should desolate the world.

 

There the vast hewers of the early time

Built, as if that way they would surely climb

The heavens, and left their labors without name –

Colossal as their carelessness of fame –

Sole likeness of themselves – that heavenward

Forever look with statuesque regard,

As if some Vision of the Eternal grown

Petrific, was forever fixed in stone!

 

They watched the Moon re-orb, the Stars go round,

And drew the Circle; Thought's primordial bound.

The Heavens looked into them with living eyes

To kindle starry thoughts in other skies,

For us reflected in the image-scroll,

That night by night the stars for aye unroll.

 

The Royal Heads of Language bow them down

To lay in Egypt's lap each borrowed crown.

 

The glory of Greece was but the Afterglow

Of her forgotten greatness lying low;

Her Hieroglyphics buried dark as night,

Or coal deposits filled with future light,

Are mines of meaning; by their light we see

Through many an overshadowing mystery.

 

The nursing Nile is living Egypt still,

And as her lowlands with its freshness fill,

And heave with double-breasted bounteousness,

So doth the old Hidden Source of mind yet bless

The nations; secretly she brought to birth,

And Egypt still enriches all the Earth.

 


Friday, February 18, 2022

Waiting for Springtime with George MacDonald

Hello everyone – 

In recent weeks, I’ve been revisiting a favorite author of mine from years gone by, the Scottish novelist and poet, George MacDonald (1824-1905), whose writings greatly influenced the development of modern fantasy literature (C. S. Lewis and J. R. R. Tolkien were two of his greatest admirers). Here are three poems by MacDonald that deal with late winter and the longing for springtime – certainly, very appropriate for a snowy February evening!

 

“In February”

Now in the dark of February rains,

Poor lovers of the sunshine, spring is born,

The earthy fields are full of hidden corn,

And March's violets bud along the lanes;

Therefore with joy believe in what remains.

And thou who dost not feel them, do not scorn

Our early songs for winter overworn,

And faith in God's handwriting on the plains.

"Hope" writes he, "Love" in the first violet,

"Joy," even from Heaven, in songs and winds and trees;

And having caught the happy words in these

While Nature labors with the letters yet,

Spring cannot cheat us, though her hopes be broken,

Nor leave us, for we know what God hath spoken.

 

“In the Winter”

In the winter, flowers are springing;

In the winter, woods are green,

Where our banished birds are singing,

Where our summer sun is seen!

Our cold midnights are coeval

With an evening and a morn

Where the forest-gods hold revel,

And the spring is newly born!

While the earth is full of fighting,

While men rise and curse their day,

While the foolish strong are smiting,

And the foolish weak betray-

The true hearts beyond are growing,

The brave spirits work alone,

Where Love's summer-wind is blowing

In a truth-irradiate zone!

While we cannot shape our living

To the beauty of our skies,

While man wants and earth is giving-

Nature calls and man denies-

How the old worlds round Him gather

Where their Maker is their sun!

How the children know the Father

Where the will of God is done!

Daily woven with our story,

Sounding far above our strife,

Is a time-enclosing glory,

Is a space-absorbing life.

We can dream no dream Elysian,

There is no good thing might be,

But some angel has the vision,

But some human soul shall see!

Is thy strait horizon dreary?

Is thy foolish fancy chill?

Change the feet that have grown weary

For the wings that never will.

Burst the flesh, and live the spirit;

Haunt the beautiful and far;

Thou hast all things to inherit,

And a soul for every star.

 

“The Tree's Prayer”

Alas, 'tis cold and dark!

The wind all night hath sung a wintry tune!

Hail from black clouds that swallowed up the moon

Beat, beat against my bark.

Oh! why delays the spring?

Not yet the sap moves in my frozen veins;

Through all my stiffened roots creep numbing pains,

That I can hardly cling.

The sun shone yester-morn;

I felt the glow down every fiber float,

And thought I heard a thrush's piping note

Of dim dream-gladness born.

Then, on the salt gale driven,

The streaming cloud hissed through my outstretched arms,

Tossed me about in slanting snowy swarms,

And blotted out the heaven.

All night I brood and choose

Among past joys. Oh, for the breath of June!

The feathery light-flakes quavering from the moon

The slow baptizing dews!

Oh, the joy-frantic birds!-

They are the tongues of us, mute, longing trees!

Aha, the billowy odors! and the bees

That browse like scattered herds!

The comfort-whispering showers

That thrill with gratefulness my youngest shoot!

The children playing round my deep-sunk root,

Green-caved from burning hours!

See, see the heartless dawn,

With naked, chilly arms latticed across!

Another weary day of moaning loss

On the thin-shadowed lawn!

But icy winter's past;

Yea, climbing suns persuade the relenting wind:

I will endure with steadfast, patient mind;

My leaves will come at last!



Above: Photo of George MacDonald from the 1860s (Public Domain via Wikimedia Commons)


Until next time –

Rob 😊

 

Wednesday, February 16, 2022

#WingedWordsWindsday: 02/16/2022 -- A Birthday Salute to Galileo, My Hero

 WINGED WORDS WINDSDAY

Compiled by Rob Chappell (@RHCLambengolmo)

Vol. 1, No. 16: February 16, 2022

 



Remembering Galileo on His Birthday: February 15, 1564

 


“Galileo’s head was on the block.

His crime was looking up the truth.”

à The Indigo Girls: Galileo (1992)

 

Editor’s Note

                The Italian astronomer Galileo (1564-1642) has been a favorite hero of mine since my childhood days. Not only did he have the courage to speak truth to power in his own time, but his use and popularization of the astronomical telescope paved the way for the development of other types of telescopes, including the small monocular telescope that I wear around my neck to enhance my own vision of the everyday world around me.

                I look forward to the day when Galileo will be fully appreciated for his courageous efforts to build bridges of understanding between philosophy, religion, and science. I would gladly cast my vote for his canonization by popular acclaim! Let his feast day be inscribed as January 8 (the day of his passage over the rainbow bridge), and let the feast day of his scientifically-inclined daughter, Sr. Maria Celeste (1600-1634), be inscribed as April 2 (the day of her own passage over the rainbow bridge). Vox populi, vox Dei! 😊

                In this week’s feature, I have included a brief summary of Galileo’s life and legacy; a notice of his visit with the English poet John Milton; an excerpt from his most famous book, the Starry Messenger, in which he describes his telescopic observations of the Milky Way; and finally, a classic poem about the Milky Way and a quotation from Cicero about the Milky Way, both of which reflect the age-old belief that the Milky Way is like a “rainbow bridge” that is followed by the souls of the blessed after their earthly lives are done.

 

“The Story of Galileo”

Excerpted from an Expanded 19th-Century Edition of Foxe’s Book of Martyrs

                The most eminent men of science and philosophy of the day did not escape the watchful eye of this cruel despotism. Galileo, the chief astronomer and mathematician of his age, was the first who used the telescope successfully in solving the movements of the heavenly bodies. He discovered that the Sun is the center of motion around which the Earth and various planets revolve. For making this great discovery Galileo was brought before the Inquisition, and for a while was in great danger of being put to death.

                After a long and bitter review of Galileo's writings, in which many of his most important discoveries were condemned as errors, the charge of the Inquisitors went on to declare, “That you, Galileo, have upon account of those things which you have written and confessed, subjected yourself to a strong suspicion of heresy in this Holy Office, by believing, and holding to be true, a doctrine which is false, and contrary to the sacred and divine Scripture – viz., that the Sun is the center of the orb of the Earth, and does not move from the east to the west; and that the Earth moves, and is not the center of the world."

                In order to save his life. Galileo admitted that he was wrong in thinking that the Earth revolved around the Sun, and swore that – "For the future, I will never more say, or assert, either by word or writing, anything that shall give occasion for a like suspicion." But immediately after taking this forced oath he is said to have whispered to a friend standing near, "The Earth moves, for all that."

 

John Milton and Galileo

In this classic painting, the English poet John Milton (left) visited Galileo (right) in 1638, while the latter was under house arrest at his villa at Arcetri, Italy.

 


Editor’s Note: In his 1644 address to the English Parliament, Milton spoke out boldly against censorship in England, citing his visit to Galileo six years earlier:

 

“There it was that I found and visited the famous Galileo grown old, a prisoner to the Inquisition, for thinking in astronomy otherwise then the Franciscan and Dominican licensers thought.”

à John Milton (1608-1674): Areopagitica (1644)

 

An Excerpt from Galileo’s Starry Messenger (1610)

                The next object which I have observed is the essence or substance of the Milky Way. By the aid of a telescope any one may behold this in a manner which so distinctly appeals to the senses that all the disputes which have tormented philosophers through so many ages are exploded at once by the irrefragable evidence of our eyes, and we are freed from wordy disputes upon this subject, for the Galaxy is nothing else but a mass of innumerable stars planted together in clusters. Upon whatever part of it you direct the telescope straightway a vast crowd of stars presents itself to view; many of them are tolerably large and extremely bright, but the number of small ones is quite beyond determination.

 


“The Milky Way” (Anonymous)

Evening has come; and across the skies —

Out through the darkness that, quivering, dies —

Beautiful, broad, and white,

Fashioned of many a silver ray

Stolen out of the ruins of Day,

Grows the pale bridge of the Milky Way,

Built by the architect Night.

 

Dim with shadows, and bright with stars,

Hung like gold lights on invisible bars

Stirred by the wind's spent breath,

Rising on cloud-shapen pillars of grey,

Perfect it stands, like a tangible way

Binding tomorrow with yesterday,

Reaching to Life from Death.

 

Dark show the heavens on either side;

Soft flows the blue in a waveless tide

Under the silver arch;

Never a footstep is heard below,

Echoing earthward, as measured and slow,

Over the bridge the still hours go

Bound on their trackless march.

 

Is it a pathway leading to Heaven

Over Earth's sin-clouds, rent and riven

With its supernal light,

Crossed by the souls of the loved who have flown

Stilly away from our arms, and alone

Up to the beautiful, great, white Throne

Pass in the hush of night?

 

Is it the road that our wild dreams walk,

Far beyond reach of our waking talk,

Out to the vague and grand

Far beyond Fancy's uttermost range,

Out to the Dream-world of marvel and change,

Out to the mystic, unreal and strange —

Out to the Wonderland?

 

Is it the way that the angels take

When they come down by night to wake

Over the slumbering Earth?

Is it the way the faint stars go back,

Driven by insolent Day from his track

Into the distant mysterious Black

Where their bright souls had birth?

 

What may it be? Who may certainly say?

Over the shadowy Milky Way

No human foot hath trod.

Aeons have passed; but unsullied and white,

Still it stands, fair as a rainbow of night,

Held like a promise above our dark sight,

Guiding our thoughts to God.

 


This infrared photo of the Milky Way features the galactic core at its center. It was taken by NASA’s Spitzer Space Telescope in 2006. (Photo Credit: Public Domain)

 


Chapter 8 from Scipio’s Dream

By Cicero (106-43 BCE)

                 But rather, my Scipio – like your grandfather here, like me your sire – follow justice and natural affection, which though great in the case of parents and kinsfolk, is greatest of all in relation to our fatherland. Such is the life that leads to heaven and to this company of those who have now lived their lives and released from their bodies dwell in that place which you can see," — now that place was a circle conspicuous among the fires of heaven by the surpassing whiteness of its glowing light — "which place you mortals, as you have learned from the Greeks, call the Milky Way." And as I surveyed them from this point, all the other heavenly bodies appeared to be glorious and wonderful, — now the stars were such as we have never seen from this Earth; and such was the magnitude of them all as we have never dreamed; and the least of them all was that planet [the Moon], which farthest from the heavenly sphere and nearest to our Earth, was shining with borrowed light, but the spheres of the stars easily surpassed the Earth in magnitude — already the Earth itself appeared to me so small, that it grieved me to think of our empire, with which we cover but a point, as it were, of its surface.

 

“I call on the resting soul of Galileo,

King of night vision, king of insight.”

à The Indigo Girls: Galileo (1992)