When I find myself somehow connected with magnificence, I must ever strive to improve myself to avoid the shame of baseness by contrast.  If we dare to consider the difference between the common man and ‘the gods’, we find it inspiring, or humiliating, depending on our perspective.  While the diversity in the accomplishments of great men and women of the past may be astounding, the difference in their potential and our own is sometimes surprisingly little.  Among god-like historic figures, some having gifts of intellect and/or power steward those gifts remarkably well; yet others with merely ordinary talents and perhaps even a hand of cards dealt below par as to social standing, political favor, or even wanting in their beginnings for an aptitude in education, still choose to overcome such hardships as a matter of course and impact the course of history in the process.  These mere men, no different at the outset than you or me, achieve greatness. Why didn’t their contemporaries?  Why don’t we?  Why don’t I?

A couple of examples:

When Captain Sir Richard F. Burton translated the Kama Sutra and the several other marvelous works, it wasn’t because it was a given assignment at some corporate job.  He independently sought out fascinating foreign literature in the countries where he was stationed under other employment.  He discovered the great texts himself!  If that had been his only achievement it would have qualified his excellence, but it was not his only mark made in the world.  His gifts were many.  (I could list some of them, but it would be better if you read his biographies, too.  I’ve just begun to read my first, though I saw a movie about him earlier in my life.)

When Count Felix Von Luckner was ordered to destroy enemy cargo and battleships in WWI, his superiors cared not what violence might be required to fulfill such duties; yet as captain of his ship he finished the war having been victorious in surprising, then capturing, loaded (although Luckner and his crew acquired to their own ships’ holds what cargo they pleased, in addition to the ‘prisoners’ whom he preferred to call guests) numerous vital enemy vessels before sinking them, and he did so without loss of life or limb to a single man aboard any of the prizes he conquered!  This feat among many chivalrous deeds was certainly not a requirement of his office, but purely a personal decision carried out through rigorous planning and determination.  Remarkable.

  If we are complacent to achieve the status quo in our lifetime, later generations may have nothing good or extraordinary to say about us; but when we set our mark – not only for ourselves but also for those who follow after us – to someday be counted among the gods of history, then the future will look marvelous!