The Triple-Filter Test

In ancient Greece, Socrates was reputed to hold knowledge in high esteem. One day an acquaintance met the great philosopher and said, "Do you know what I just heard about your friend?"

"Hold on a minute," Socrates replied. "Before you talk to me about my friend, it might be good idea to take a moment and filter what you’re going to say. That’s why I call it the triple filter test. The first filter is Truth. Have you made absolutely sure that what you are about to tell me is true?"

"Well, no," the man said, "actually I just heard about it and…"

"All right," said Socrates. "So you don’t really know if it’s true or not. Now, let’s try the second filter, the filter of Goodness. Is what you are about to tell me about my friend something good?"

"Umm, no, on the contrary…"

"So," Socrates continued, "you want to tell me something bad about my friend, but you’re not certain it’s true. You may still pass the test though, because there’s one filter left—the filter of Usefulness. Is what you want to tell me about my friend going to be useful to me?"

"No, not really."

"Well," concluded Socrates, "if what you want to tell me is neither true, nor good, nor even useful, why tell it to me at all?"

-Marsya Aleesa

Things Change by Alex W. Miller

For most people, graduation is an exciting day - the culmination of years of hard work. My graduation day... was not.

I remember that weekend two years ago. Family and friends had flown in from across the country to watch our class walk across that stage. But like everyone else in my graduating class, I had watched the economy turn from bad to worse my senior year. We graduates had degrees, but very limited prospects. Numerous applications had not panned out and I knew that the next day, when my lease ended, I would no longer have a place to call home.

The weeks ahead weren't easy. I gathered up everything I couldn't carry and put it into storage. Then, because I knew my small university town couldn't offer me any opportunities, I packed up my car and drove to Southern California to find work. But what I thought would take a week dragged into two, and then four, and 100 job applications later, I found myself in the exact same spot as I was before. And the due date to begin paying back my student loans was creeping ever closer.

You know that feeling when you wake up and you are just consumed with dread? Dread about something you can't control - that sense of impending failure that lingers over you as you hope that everything that happened to you thus far was just a bad dream? That feeling became a constant in my life.

Days felt like weeks, weeks like months, and those many months felt like an unending eternity of destitution. And the most frustrating part was no matter how much I tried, I just couldn't seem to make any progress.

So what did I do to maintain my sanity? I wrote. Something about putting words on a page made everything seem a little clearer - a little brighter. Something about writing gave me hope. And if you want something badly enough... sometimes a little hope is all you need!

I channeled my frustration into a children's book. Beyond the River was the story of an unlikely hero featuring a little fish who simply refused to give up on his dream.

And then one day, without any sort of writing degree or contacts in the writing world - just a lot of hard work and perseverance - I was offered a publishing contract for my first book! After that, things slowly began to fall into place. I was offered a second book deal. Then, a few months later, I got an interview with The Walt Disney Company and was hired shortly after.

The moral of this story is... don't give up. Even if things look bleak now, don't give up. Two years ago I was huddled in my car drinking cold soup right out of the can. Things change.

If you work hard, give it time, and don't give up, things will always get better. Oftentimes our dreams lie in wait just a little further upstream... all we need is the courage to push beyond the river.


-Marsya Aleesa

Be who you must be by Diarmuid Cronin

I don’t know where you are on your path
I have never stood in your shoes
I see not with your eyes.
I know not what your purpose is here
In this stage of your evolution
But I feel blessed to know you
As you are not in my life by chance
And you are my teacher
As I hope you learn from me
I pray I show reverence to you
I pray not to judge you
I wish to let you be
Who you are
Who you dream of being
I will just be beside you
And watch you grow
And the day will come for sure
When we will know why
Our paths crossed this way
And until then my friend
Be who you must be



-Marsya Aleesa

Be a friend by Edgar A. Guest

Be a friend. You don't need money;
Just a disposition sunny;
Just the wish to help another
Get along some way or other;
Just a kindly hand extended
Out to one who's unbefriended;
Just the will to give or lend,
This will make you someone's friend.

Be a friend. You don't need glory.
Friendship is a simple story.
Pass by trifling errors blindly,
Gaze on honest effort kindly,
Cheer the youth who's bravely trying,
Pity him who's sadly sighing;
Just a little labor spend
On the duties of a friend.

Be a friend. The pay is bigger
(Though not written by a figure)
Than is earned by people clever
In what's merely self-endeavor.
You'll have friends instead of neighbors
For the profits of your labors;
You'll be richer in the end
Than a prince, if you're a friend.


-Marsya Aleesa

I'll paint you a rainbow by Grace E. Easley

I'll paint you a rainbow to hang on the wall,
to brighten your heart when the gray shadows fall.
On a canvas of joy outlasting the years,
with a soft brush of sweetness to dry all your tears.
I'll paint you a rainbow with colors of smiles
That glow with sincerity over the miles.
On a palette of words I will tenderly blend
Tones into treasures of sunlight and wind.

I'll paint you a rainbow that reaches so wide,
Your sights and your sorrows will vanish inside,
And deep in the center of each different hue,
A memory fashioned especially for you.
So lift up your eyes, for suspended above,
A rainbow designed by the fingers of love...


-Marsya Aleesa

Rememberance by David Rovert Brooks

When I am gone,
Please remember me;
as a heartfelt laugh, as a tenderness.
Hold fast to the image of me
when my soul was on fire;
the light of love shining through my eyes…
Remember me when I was singing and seemed to know my way.
Remember always when we were together and time stood still.
Remember most not what I did,
or who I was...
Oh please remember me for what I always desired to be...



-Marsya Aleesa

Pool by Pete Hughes

Through the cold winter wasteland he trudged, leaning into the harsh wind which spitefully tried to force him back. He was covered from head to toe in layers of thick clothing, layers of protection against the harsh environment. On he fought, searching, searching. He was working so hard. This must be the way.

In the distance he saw what looked like steam rising out of the ground. It rose a few feet and then was quickly whipped away by the biting wind. He altered his course and turned towards the steam, gaining some blessed relief as he turned his chapped face out of the gale. As he got closer, he thought he could make out voices. Their tone was unfamiliar to him - musical, relaxed and warm - their melody enticed him closer. Finally he got close enough to peer through the mist.

There before him was a remarkable sight. In the midst of the frozen wasteland, cut into the ground was a large pool. Several people were in the pool, they seemed to be floating easily without any effort. As they saw him approach, a woman called out to him.

"Come in here. It is lovely and warm. You can just lie back and relax," said the woman.

"I can't. There are no steps." The man replied.

"Just jump in. It really is lovely in here. Come on. There's plenty of room for another." Another of the floaters joined in the persuasion.

"But what if I don't like it, how will I get out? The sides are too high to reach up to."

"Believe me, you won't want to get out. Come on. It is so good in here."

He stood for a moment, paralyzed with indecision. It looked so much like the answer, but how could it be this easy? Just jump in? Lie back and relax? It couldn't be that simple. It must be a trick. He could not trust them. There was no way out if he changed his mind. He blocked out their warm invitations and once more filled his mind with grim determination.

On he trudged. Hours passed and his shadow grew long. Then once again in the distance he saw another cloud of rising steam. Entering the mist, a similar sight greeted him once more.

"Come in here. You don't have to be cold any more," said one of the bathers in a gentle voice. All the faces in the pool turned to look at him. Warm smiles reached out to him but his eyes could not perceive them.

"How do I get in? I can't see any steps. You are a long way down." He asked once again.

"Just jump in. It is very deep. You will be quite safe."

"But what if I want to get out? What if I get tired and cannot stay afloat any longer?"

"This is not like normal water, we are kept afloat without any effort. I promise you, you really will not want to get out."

"But my clothes will get wet and their weight will drag me down."

"You can remove all those layers. You will not need their protection in here. It is always beautifully warm."

But he could not bring himself to do that. Those layers were his protection, accumulated over the years to keep out the bitter cold. How could he now discard them, just like that? How could he allow himself to be so exposed?

On he trudged. Darkness came and the temperature dropped still further. Snow began to fall and the wind drove it into his face. Walking blind he carried on.

Then suddenly he felt some warmth in the air and the ground disappeared beneath him. With a scream he fell and his fall was broken with a splash. Panic overcame him and he thrashed around desperately until his hands touched a wall and he clawed at the smooth surface, loudly cursing the futility of it.

Then suddenly he heard a soft voice beside him. '"Shhhh. It's OK. It's OK," said the voice in beautiful feminine tones. "Just relax. You will be OK." Then he felt her hands moving over his body, searching then loosening his winter clothing. Layer after layer was gently removed, her voice continuing to sooth his panic until eventually he could feel the wonderful warmth of the water directly against his skin. "It's OK," she said once more as she held him close in the dark. For the first time since he could remember, he fully relaxed and quickly drifted off into a much needed sleep in her arms.

He awoke to a wonderful new dawn. He gazed into the beautiful eyes of his rescuer and felt the wonderful warmth of the water around him. Then he heard footsteps above. A weary man dressed head to foot in winter furs peered over the edge of the pool.

"Come in here!" He quickly shouted to the man. "It is so wonderful in here!"

"But what if I don't like it? How will I get back out?" The man asked.

"Believe me. You really won't want to get out," he assured the man.


-Marsya Aleesa