If we only focused on physical items — food, drink, clothing, accessories, etc. — Classy AF would be just another place to read about “stuff.”
But you’re more than the things you own (or the things that own you). You’re not defined by the ephemeral, but by the timeless. Lasting attributes such as character, ethics, and morality.
In a recent Timeless & Timely essay (“When the World Is Too Much with Us”), two poems stood out to me, because each referred to the materialistic side of our nature.
Horace wondered:
Will it be greed, that always feels poverty-stricken,
That harasses and torments you all your days?
And Wordsworth observed our turn toward commercialism:
The world is too much with us; late and soon,
Getting and spending, we lay waste our powers;—
Little we see in Nature that is ours;
We have given our hearts away, a sordid boon!
Each was concerned that we aren’t taking the time to reflect on what truly matters.
Consider how you treat others and how you show up to the world through things like manners and etiquette. Essentially, what it means to be a gentleman — or a lady, or any other civil member of society.
You might not consider John Henry Newman (1801-1890), theologian, academic, philosopher (and about a half dozen other descriptives) as a source, but he gave a series of lectures in Dublin in 1854 and then stitched them together in book form as The Idea of a University (1854).
In this work, in a small section of one chapter — almost as an aside — he describes attributes we might all strive for to be considered decent members of society:
Hence it is that it is almost a definition of a gentleman to say that he is one who never inflicts pain.
He is mainly occupied in merely removing the obstacles which hinder the free and unembarrassed action of those about him; and he concurs with their movements rather than takes the initiative himself.
His benefits may be considered as parallel to what are called comforts or conveniences in arrangements of a personal nature; like an easy chair or a good fire, which do their part in dispelling cold and fatigue, though nature provides both means of rest and animal heat without them.
The true gentleman in like manner carefully avoids whatever may cause a jar or a jolt in the minds of those with whom he is cast — all clashing of opinion, or collision of feeling, all restraint, or suspicion, or gloom, or resentment; his great concern being to make every one at his ease and at home.
He has his eyes on all his company; he is tender towards the bashful, gentle towards the distant, and merciful towards the absurd; he can recollect to whom he is speaking; he guards against unseasonable allusions, or topics which may irritate; he is seldom prominent in conversation, and never wearisome. He makes light of favors while he does them, and seems to be receiving when he is conferring.
He never speaks of himself except when compelled, never defends himself by a mere retort; he has no ears for slander or gossip, is scrupulous in imputing motives to those who interfere with him, and interprets everything for the best.
He is never mean or little in his disputes, never takes unfair advantage, never mistakes personalities or sharp saying for arguments, or insinuates evil which he dare not say out.
From a long-sighted prudence, he observes the maxim of the ancient sage, that we should ever conduct ourselves towards our enemy as if he were one day to be our friend.
He has too much good sense to be affronted at insults, he is too well employed to remember injuries, and too indolent to bear malice. He is patient, forbearing, and resigned, on philosophical principles; he submits to pain, because it is inevitable, to bereavement, because it is irreparable, and to death, because it is his destiny.
If he engages in controversy of any kind, his disciplined intellect preserves him from the blundering discourtesy of better, perhaps, but less educated minds; who, like blunt weapons, tear and hack instead of cutting clean, who mistake the point in argument, waste their strength on trifles, misconceive their adversary, and leave the question more involved than they find it.
He may be right or wrong in his opinion, but he is too clear-headed to be unjust; he is as simple as he is forcible, and as brief as he is decisive. Nowhere shall we find greater candor, consideration, indulgence: he throws himself into the minds of his opponents, he accounts for their mistakes. He knows the weakness of human reason as well as its strength, its province and its limits…
He is a friend of religious toleration, and that, not only because his philosophy has taught him to look on all forms of faith with an impartial eye, but also from the gentleness and effeminacy of feeling, which is the attendant on civilization… Such are some of the lineaments of the ethical character, which the cultivated intellect will form, apart from religious principle.
That’s a tall order. But like any source of inspiration, Newman’s advice can provide a set of guidelines against which we can check ourselves on our journey.
And that’s Classy AF.