My goal over the next few days is to drive the over 800 miles from Detroit to Bangor, Maine. My first goal is Cleveland, Ohio. Why? In high school, my favorite athlete was Jim Brown – the great running back for the Cleveland Browns. I guess part of my motivation to visit Cleveland was to pay homage to one of the greatest running backs of all time. At 6 feet 2 inches tall and 228 pounds with a 47 inch chest and a 32 inch waist, Brown was fast, powerful and elusive. I had cut action pictures of Jim Brown out of football magazines and pinned them up all over my bedroom.  

As I drove north, Lake Erie was on my left. After Cleveland, I entered Pennsylvania. I stayed at a small motel in Erie, Pennsylvania. I will always remember this place. My room shared a bathroom with another room. The doors had no locks. Instead, there was a rope with a hook on each end. To protect your privacy when using the bathroom, you simply hooked one end of the rope to one door and the other end to the opposite door. A graphic example of simple and practical.

Crossing the state line into New York, I headed north toward Buffalo and Niagara Falls. The falls were rainy and foggy but the roar of the massive falls was unmistakable.

This time of year on a week day, the traffic was light. My next goal were the granite quarries of Barre, Vermont. In high school, I had seen a stunning color photograph in a big, glossy atlas of our United States. The turquoise water and the massive blocks of granite piqued my imagination.

Continuing north, I barely clipped the northern tip of New Hampshire. I drove into Maine with the goal of the Acadia National Park and its dramatic rocky coast.  

Acadia N. P. did not disappoint. Dramatic topography. Rugged dark stony cliffs. Powerful waves crashing into massive rocks. Atmospheric fog and light rain. It almost had a gothic Wuthering Heights feel.  

Having covered over 800 miles in the past few days, I was ready to catch my breath, so to speak. I drove to Bangor Maine for dinner. As I drove into town in the cold rainy light, I noticed the marque of the town’s small movie theater: “Becket” starring Peter O’Toole and Richard Burton. The picture had been nominated for 11 Academy Awards.

I parked my car on the only main street and entered a diner. Warm inside, it smelled of home cooking. I ordered meat loaf, mashed potatoes and gravy. The meal came with unlimited fresh bread and all the butter I wanted. I washed it down with ice cold milk.  

After dinner, I bundled up against the cold and the rain and walked the block or so to the movie house. After going to the bathroom, I settled in. There were only a half dozen other people in the theater. The movie no sooner began, and I was rivetted. Losing all track of time, the 2 ½ hours seemed like minutes. When the movie ended and the credits ran, I sat in a daze. An intellectually and an emotionally powerful movie, I was blown away. Thomas Becket (Richard Burton) is a companion and hell raiser with King Henry II (Peter O’Toole). The king, expecting Becket to do his bidding, appoints him Archbishop of Canterbury. To Becket’s surprise, he had discovered his calling. Becket embraces his role with complete integrity including opposing the king. The king would have his way and had Becket assassinated. The was year 1170. This brutal murder rocked the medieval world. Becket was martyred and became St. Thomas Becket.

The depth of Becket’s transformation is so deep and powerful, he is willing to die rather than forsake his sacred duty. Still pensive as I checked into my motel, I recalled a play I had read in high school written by Nobel Prize winner T. S. Eliot. Eliot is maybe the greatest poet of the 20th century especially for his post World War One masterpiece “The Wasteland.” The play Eliot wrote is called “Murder in the Cathedral.”  Now it made complete sense. Courage of one’s convictions even in the face of death is a rare and powerful of commitment. Thomas Becket was a real man who was willing to die rather than compromise his convictions and kowtow to the self-indulgent king. I was deeply moved and filled with enormous admiration and respect for Becket and courageous his actions. Here was a man of the highest moral character.  

The first poem I ever read by T. S. Eliot is called “The Hollow Men.” I read it in an honors English class my senior year in high school. The poem describes people who are lost, empty, and disillusioned. The Lost Generation. All those millions of young men killed in their prime. For what?  What was the point of all that slaughter? “The Hollow Men” is about spiritually gutted men struggling to find something to believe in. The poem ends with 2 incredibly powerful lines: 

“This is the way the world ends
Not with a bang but a whimper.”

I remember at the time, that poem stopped me dead in my tracks. Who am I? What do I stand for?

In 1964 I did not know. I had not yet been tested. I had not yet faced life or death situations. I did not know how I would react. A life or death situation would give a stark, undeniable answer. In 1964 I could only hope I would rise to the occasion. Only time would tell.  

Sitting by myself, alone in a small motel room on a rainy night in Bangor, Maine over 3,000 miles from home, I was a hollow young man looking for something to believe in.  

As you know by now, one of my mantras is: Your body does not lie. Who is that person in the mirror? What do you see? Thomas Becket had his reckoning and passed the test with the highest honors humanly possible. He set the bar very high but at least we can aspire.

We can do our daily rituals and honor the gifts we have been given by nourishing our body with the highest quality nutrition possible, drinking clean pure water and doing full body aerobic exercise at least 45 minutes at least 3 times a week. It is an example of what my client and great good friend Dr. Stephen Covey called our daily private victory.  

I wish you health and courage in your struggles.
Joe