Some words never leave us

Some words, regardless of their source, can do for us what whole libraries can’t. Sounds exaggerated, but permit me to share a couple of pages from my ill-kept notebook and not diary. I never had diaries because I have never been able to leash time. In fact, I have been fighting the opposite. A look at the notebook: The 30-40 minute canoe ride used to be exciting, but foul weather made it scary on that particular night. However, we did manage to reach the shore and subsequently a roadside restaurant.

Predictably, we ordered some strong tea and whatever was available by way of snacks. While waiting there for the weather to improve before we could start again for our destination, we came across a gentleman. He was, no, not really pontificating. He was talking to a few of his students. He was a teacher.

The words I have been talking about: It’s perfect to be born ignorant, but it’s a crime to die so. Adulthood is natural, maturity isn’t. While the former grows on its own, the latter has to be nursed to its health. Life can be steered only with wisdom, not knowledge.

Because maturity isn’t natural it needs to be sowed, watered and shaped.

Growth is inevitable, not progress. To progress we need training. He went on to quote Abraham Lincoln, who wrote to his son’s teacher: “He will have to learn, I know, that all men are not just, all men are not true.

But teach him also that for every scoundrel there is a hero, that for every selfish politician, there is a dedicated leader.

Teach him that for every enemy there is a friend. It will take time, I know, but teach him, if you can, that a dollar earned is of far more value than five found.

Teach him to learn to lose and also to enjoy winning. Steer him away from envy, if you can, teach him the secret of quiet laughter. Teach him, if you can, the wonder of books…”

The words went on to become the curative blueprint for my mortal cruise, which is by definition turbulent.