Lawrence W. Fagg - Pauses: Reflections on Science, Spirituality, and the Fine Art of Living

ALTHOUGH THE LAST twenty-five years of my fifty-year career in physics was spent at the Catholic University of America, my earlier work began at the Naval Research Laboratory where I headed a small group studying nuclear physics using an electron accelerator. I shared my office with Herbert Uberall, a brilliant theoretical physicist, who consulted on nuclear theory for us once a week.

Herb was warm and affable. We used to tell jokes and philosophize about everything from politics to religion. However, one thing he said has always stuck with me: We are like little fish swimming in a vast school, implying that all we can do is attend to the immediate world around us. Here was a man with three hundred scientific articles, who wrote the classical, definitive text on our subfield of nuclear physics as well as eight other books, and who was nominated for the Nobel Prize in Physics. Yet the wisdom and humility implicit in that remark have left a lasting impression.

So here I am, a little fish, at age eighty-two still learning to appreciate the fish around me as well as the provident waters that nourish us. For me the process of appreciation has developed slowly and is still going on. Much of this appreciation has been fostered by sporadically keeping a journal in the form of a series of some fifteen small notebooks over a period of over thirty-five years.

These notes consist largely of one- or two-line observations of the moment, which, along with a few valued quotations, have served as abiding guides. In many respects this journal has helped guide me to where I am today. The observations have derived at least in part from a variety of sources: my reading; my wife, Mary; my friendships; my understanding of what the natural world means to me in my study of physics; my work on the dialogue between science and religion; my years in psychoanalysis and participation in the Forum for the Humanities of the Washington School of Psychiatry; and certainly not the least, my maintaining an organic chestnut farm.

So, as is the case with many who have arrived at this stage of life, I feel moved to share these thoughts with whoever chooses to read them. I do this with the understanding that there is often a large gap between the written word, the genuinely felt feeling, or the authentic action. However, even though some of the gaps may be unbridgeable, the words still express a sincere goal.

This book is a distillation of these notes. It is divided into three chapters entitled Living, Time, and God. They express my reflections about living in the world as we presently understand it, about the nature of time, and how I perceive God and religion.

I AM MOST THANKFUL for the abiding support of my wife, Mary Godfrey Skipp, and for her many helpful suggestions that have significantly improved the quality of this book.

EVERYONE MUST GO THROUGH ADOLESCENCE. ITS JUST THAT WHEN YOU ARE OLDER IT TAKES A LITTLE LONGER.

IDEALS ARE GREAT AS LONG AS THEY DONT GET IN THE WAY OF WHAT WE WANT TO DO.

I SHUDDER AT THE THOUGHT OF MY LIFE BEING SUMMARIZED IN TERMS OF A LIST OF PUBLICATIONS.

THE OLDER I GET THE MORE DIFFICULT IT IS TO RESIST THE URGE TO REST ON MY LAUREL LEAF.

B E KIND,
FOR EVERYONE YOU
MEET IS FIGHTING
A GREAT BATTLE.

P HILO

EVERYTHING I DO OR SAY WILL BE FORGOTTEN IN A FEW SHORT YEARS. YET HOW AMAZING AND WONDERFUL IT IS THAT SOMEHOW I STILL CARE, JUST SIMPLY CARE ABOUT WHATEVER I DO, AND WILL PROBABLY DO SO UNTIL MY DYING MOMENT.

WHEN RECALLING A CONTENTIOUS PAST CONVERSATION AND THE PERFECT REJOINDER OCCURS TO ME, I TRY TO TAKE HEART; AT LEAST I THOUGHT OF IT.

O NE OF THE SMALL CONSOLATIONS OF OLD AGE, IF YOU ARE LUCKY, CAN BE AT LEAST A PARTIAL RECOVERY OF INNOCENCE.

HOPE SPRINGS INFERNAL IN THE HUMAN BEAST.

THE ROAD TO PURGATORY IS PAVED WITH QUESTIONABLE INTENTIONS.

H OW LONG IT HAS TAKEN ME TO SHAKE THE ILLUSION OF PERFECTION AND ACCEPT THE PATIENT PAINSTAKING PURSUIT OF EXCELLENCE.

STRIVING WITH THE PRIME PURPOSE OF HAVING A PLACE IN THE HISTORY BOOKS IS GENERALLY NOT MUCH MORE THAN A STRENUOUS, AND ALMOST PATHETIC, UNDERTAKING OF EGO ENHANCEMENT.

HERE I AM EIGHTY-TWO YEARS OLD AND HAVE HAD A HARD TIME FIGURING OUT WHAT I WANT TO DO WHEN I GROW UP. I FINALLY DECIDED TO TRY TO BECOME THE TRUEST ME THERE EVER WAS.