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I had a sense, though, that just making a list wasn’t going to cut it. Some things don’t fit nicely on a list. When does something need a plan rather than a list? Can a task be too big to go onto a notepad on the fridge? Perhaps that was the key to Order: Decide what you want or need to do, figure out how it can get done, break it down into smaller tasks, and write it down. If I actually did this and achieved any goals, I could get a big star on the virtue of Resolution, which was up next.

So on Day 3 (you might note, if you are following along, that I had done nothing in furtherance of this virtue in two days), my first work task would be to sit down and write out a list of things I needed/wanted to get done, break it down/write it down, and get it done. I felt more organized immediately. Baby steps.

{ Keep thy shop, and thy shop will keep thee.}

Clearly, I was easily impressed with myself.

A Little Satisfaction

Okay, I felt morally good. Not morally perfect. Not even morally great. Just morally middle of the road. But that was a huge step in the right direction. As much as I like myself (and so many people have told me that I like myself that it must be true), I often feel a sense of . . . I don’t know how to describe it . . . disappointment. Maybe that’s too strong a word, but I know that life is finite, and with every day that passes, goals go unachieved. Every day the world remains unchanged is a day that is wasted—just a little bit.

Isn’t that what schemes of self-improvement are all about? Isn’t it some kernel (or more) of personal dissatisfaction that drives us to change?

Now don’t go jumping down my throat. I am happy. I am very happy. I feel confident. I believe in the potential of mankind (by which I mean man- and womankind, and I believe in gender equality enough to point this out). The problem is, like my beagle at the end of mealtime, I still want more. That’s what this book is about, isn’t it?

Or is it? I think my uncertainty comes, in part, from my lack of understanding about why Americans seem so fixed on self-improvement. Why do they long to be something different than what they are? Chris has been very helpful on the specific virtues, but I haven’t asked him to address the big question.

When you have a big ethical question like that, you find a big ethical guru to help answer it. Like the Pope or the Dalai Lama or Larry King.

While I didn’t have access to any of the above, I did have a pretty good resource close to home.

The Very Reverend Dr. Peter Short was the 38th Moderator of the United Church of Canada from 2003 until 2006. The Moderator is the leader of the church, which is the second largest denomination in Canada. The Moderator, according to the church’s website, is “expected to give spiritual leadership and public representation” for the church. Peter has written books, was a minister for thirty-one years, and spends his time now speaking and teaching on issues of spirituality across North America. He is a heavyweight on issues of morality and ethics. He agreed to give me a bit of a crash course on why people want to improve.

In his years of ministry and counseling, Peter has seen and counseled untold numbers of people who want to lead a more meaningful life. When I asked him what is the first thing he says to people who ask, “How do I change my life? How do I find more meaning?” his reply was simple. The first thing he tells them is to change the question. How is a strategy question: a determination of method. The real question, the one he wants them to ask themselves, is, “Why do I want to change my life?” When you figure that out, the how becomes clearer.

So I suppose, in following Franklin, I might have gotten into this thing backward. I was not sure I had any real desire to change at all. I was not even sure I could ask why.

I told Peter that maybe I was looking to Franklin to provide a boost on the ladder of achievement. His response gave me pause. He said, “The world would be