A long time ago, smart people believed everything in the universe could be broken down into four essences. Fire, air, water, and earth. Alchemists believed that they could combine these things in the right ways to make gold.

As silly as it seems now, those ideas were conceptually accurate. Now, instead of four essences, we have a periodic table of elements. We have split the atom. People can build complex materials using nothing but a whiteboard and a chemistry set. And many of those materials helped us fly to the moon.

But back then, people believed and taught a more primitive idea. In addition to the four essences, ancient philosophers believed there was a quintessence — a fifth essence that unites those four.

Today, we still use the words, even if their original meanings have matured into irrelevance. Quintessence, having shed its metaphysical origins, now represents a perfect, refined extract, the premier example of something.

Some people believe there is nothing eternal, and therefore by extension, there is no moral reason to cultivate quintessential values. What makes a person want to do good is based on simple human desire and the force of will. Other people believe that they can receive divine blessings and favor through virtuous living.

When we evaluate ourselves or the world around us, what quintessence do we find?What is the mortar of our hearts made from? Upon a critical review, does the final product have integrity, or does it easily decay? When we reduce down our life and examine its refined extract, do we see something valuable and precious? Or are we left with ashes and dust?

Perhaps a diligent life of principle isn’t just fitting for gurus and saints. Maybe it is a path of enrichment and enlightenment for all who seek. Maybe the power to improve our lives and the world around us is as accessible to us as mere thought. As thought gives way to attitude, and attitude motivates a behavior, and a behavior becomes a habit, maybe that end result is something precious.

If a heart of gold can be rendered by mere thought, then maybe the alchemists were right after all.

A hundred years ago, in the midst of a violent conflict, a miracle happened.

In the Great War, the entrenched soldiers on both sides spontaneously dropped their weapons and began to sing. First, the singing rang out from the German troops. A familiar tune, sung in the language of the Fatherland. It was recognized by the British troops who joined in. Some time later, white flags of truce began to wave from both of the opposing trenches. The troops spontaneously unified, declaring a truce that lasted from Christmas Eve 1914 through New Year’s Day.

The men from the opposing sides displayed their unity by playing soccer together on the battlefield. They traded mementos from home. They cut souvenirs from their uniforms — buttons, badges, scraps of cloth — to give to their newfound friends.

Every human soul longs for moments like this one, where compassion overwhelms us and forgiveness is shown toward someone whom it is within one’s power to punish or harm. The mission of mercy is one where we seek to relieve the suffering of others, often with total disregard for whether we are putting ourselves at risk.

Mercy is so rarely heard of in the world today. Is it because it’s actually becoming scarce, or is it just not news that plays well on social media? Wouldn’t it be great to see Facebook crammed with stories of mercy that happened to people…the miraculous kindness of strangers in such an overwhelming show of compassion that it becomes contagious.

But sadly, all too often we bend to the will of our self-interest rather than risk falling on our sword for a stranger. Not just the heroic acts of kindness like spontaneously declaring a truce on a battlefield, but simple, everyday, ordinary gestures. Forgiving the guy who cuts us off in traffic, all while he waves at us with one offensive finger. Showing forbearance and kindness to a friend who catches us off guard by being grouchy or argumentative. Giving a clean slate to the nine-year-old who broke a rule. Or a window.

Funny thing is, mercy wasn’t meant for only the lovable. It’s one thing to show mercy to the ones that we find beautiful or sweet. But it isn’t just for the people who give us puppy dog eyes or crazy in love crushes. Miraculous mercy is always spent on people who don’t deserve it. So it isn’t about the lovely in others; it’s about the lovely in us. We are prone to fall into our own selfish judgments on how and when mercy should be dispensed. Refusing mercy to a person in need of it always spoils an opportunity to understand them, or the situation, or even ourselves. We instead risk numbing ourselves in our ability to feel compassion for others; or worse, it can form a shackling grudge that affects all of our relationships.

To have a heart full of mercy is to always be able to find the best in others in spite of the wrong they have done. In fact, showing mercy to an offender has the makings of a miracle. It will help turn an enemy into a friend. It will turn a good friend into a best friend. Mercy will destroy divorce. It will uproot bitterness and anger. Mercy will heal a broken heart. Habitually showing mercy is a path to prosperity and happiness.

It is noble, is it not, to risk your heart for the right cause? And what could be more noble than to burden ourselves by liberally paying mercy to all those who don’t deserve it? Mercy creates peace — and sometimes miracles — in ourselves and in others. If not for mercy, the casualties of war, not to mention human relationships, would be much, much higher. Mercy is the key to transforming a time of conflict into a beautiful, miraculous time of peace.

A word can hold so much power.

Even one word in the right context, in the right situation, conveying the right meaning can turn a ship in the night. One fitting word, finding its season, can resolve a conflict, can mend a dispute, can settle a broken heart.

There are words that provoke, as well. Fighting words can separate best friends. Words spoken in anger can contagiously provoke others to show anger. A word that indicates immediate danger can drive people to flee.

It’s so important to be intentional with our words. And it’s so hard sometimes to remember that. We all get strained by the pressures of life, and in that moment when the pressures are high, we can fall prey to the idea that our need to relieve pressure is more important than anything else, including the way other people may react or respond.

Gentleness is a powerful word, one that our present world finds in short supply. A softness of action or touch. A lightness of spirit. The opposite of harshness. A person in a position of authority or power would be well-served to remember their strength is multiplied when they apply gentleness to their effort. It’s very easy to confuse being gentile with being weak. We should always think, do, and say what’s right. When something is wrong and needs to be corrected, we should not shrink from the task.

Just be gentle in the doing.

The spirit of our times so often prompts us to trample or ignore the principles that at a glance seem less assertive or helpful in helping us to achieve our goals. Aggressiveness tends to dominate over helpfulness. Brashness can snuff out thoughtfulness. To be quick to speak is often considered a strong trait, when it is often wiser — and more difficult — to be an active listener.

The troubles of life can make us restless and cranky. But we should never excuse these patterns of behavior in ourselves. Harshness can wither the hearts of people that we love and spread misery all around us. We have not fulfilled our duty to others until we have learned to consistently run our race in a spirit of gentleness.

• Gentleness is refreshing, like the waters of a stream, or wine flowing over the teeth.
• Showing patience and kindness to children are marks of a gentle person.
• Humility toward God will make us gentle to others.
• Gentleness is the power to be kind and silent in the face of injustice or wrongdoing.
• Gentleness provokes a willingness to yield.
• Gentle counsel is well-received.
• Gentle words wield great power.
• Spiritual recovery is always gentle, never mean or harsh.

The grace that is paid from a spirit of gentleness is like a sweet refrain on a piano, or a cool breeze on a summer day. It is a forgotten power that is easily reclaimed, if we will have the mind and heart to equip it daily. How great it would be for us to carry more gentleness in our hearts — not just for the people that love us, but for everyone.

In my younger days, when the world was beautiful and full of wonder, I ran across a simple wall poster that shared a thought-provoking idea. I love that stuff.

It was just a sheet of white paper, with the words “You are here” and a little, symbolic dot, like the kind you find on a map at the mall. Surrounded by the emptiness of a blank page, “here” becomes very relative. I liked the duality of that idea. A person with peace in their heart and a sense of direction and purpose would be spurred on and encouraged to fill that page with their own story and context. The world was something to be explored and conquered. They feel powerful and secure, so the idea that they are a drifting little dot on a blank canvas would be a welcoming idea.

But then, there are those who, through misfortune and loss, become disillusioned and distracted from life’s greater purposes. To them, the thought of being that drifting little dot is lonely or unwelcome or even terrifying.

So, here’s a confession for you. I’ve been both of those people.

I have believed that life is like an eternal parent, eagerly waiting for me to be born so that gifts could be bestowed. And I’ve benefitted greatly from their purpose, I’ve been a regal child imbued with power by his family to take up the charge of subduing the earth; to walk with such resolve that it would provide focus and clarity to one’s life, to live in such a way that others might profit from the example.

And then something happens, and you get hurt.

And in those moments, it’s easy to give in to disillusionment or despair. It’s easy to flail in the deeper waters of life, wondering if you were ever really meant to swim at all. It can overtake you, if you let it.

If you let it.

My intent in creating this site is to reflect on life, to write about my reflections, and to share parts of my journey. I have decided to burden myself with the writer’s conceit and to struggle with expressing thoughts that will encourage others — keep going, don’t lose heart, don’t lose faith. At times, I will share my personal journey, because I think it will be helpful and healing. I’m not particularly interested in writing about myself. But as I have reflected on my station in life, I’ve come to realize some things.

• None of us are alone.
• Shared burdens are lighter.
• People need people.
• All of us have a story that should be heard.

And you are here. Thank you. I hope to keep serving up ideas that are helpful, uplifting and encouraging. Because that deep water is still out there, and I think there’s an adventurous soul in each one of us that wants to explore and learn more about the blank space around us, if we can just overcome our fear of the deep.