Sometimes people just can't help themselves. They are too busy helping others, and this isn't always a good thing.

I suppose it is probably a side-effect of that "unwritten commandment" of human nature that we should give those who follow us better than we ourselves received. We just love to help people. Some more than others, to be sure, but we see it every day. We help someone with a certain task or challenge because we once faced the same thing. We just want to make it easier for them than it was for us.

And we interject. And we show them the way. And we tell them how they shouldn't feel bad, because we ourselves didn't figure it out this way on our first try. And their first try becomes, instead, our next try. And so the wonder of their exploration is dimmed just a bit. And in that little bit of light that is lost, is a small piece of their own expression, comprehension, and memory.

"We could all be better teachers," said C.J. Cregg on an episode of The West Wing.

It is said that one of the best ways to learn is to teach. Could it be so simplistically true that one of the best ways to teach is to learn? I think so.

For every truth there is an equal and opposite truth: Just imagine if Newton had been a philosopher.

But this holds true, I believe. The more we do for others, the less they do for themselves. The more challenging a task, the more is learned from it. The more painful the failure, the more true and vivid the memory.

When you know more about something than someone else, the hardest thing to do is to withhold information: to let that person see the slightest glimpse of the rugged path you took. You see the narrowness of it, and fear even more for others than you ever did for yourself. The freedom of that open-ended experience lacks the certainty we need to trust that all will be well in the end.

But those that can let all of that go are rewarded with an experience that would envy the pride of any parent or teacher on this planet. To see something come to such astounding fruition as to be inspired by you, but not directly the result of your own actions; that is a pleasure which rivals all others.

It is a risk too few take. And a reward reserved for those who are truly the greatest of the worlds teachers.

Almost Daydreaming

There is a place in my own head where every one of my senses is in a perfect place. I notice it more with sounds than anything else. When I am in that place, I just love the way things sound. Usually it's the simple things, like the sound of someone shuffling papers around, or someone walking on gravel, or the hollow scraping of a metal spoon at the bottom of a nearly empty yogurt cup. These noises give me goose bumps. It's almost as if my ears are hearing these sounds for the first time and are fascinated and inspired by them.

One essential factor of this state of mind is a sense of peace that overcomes me. I have to be in a certain state of unforced calm. That makes it very difficult to find this place, and just as hard to stay there. I suppose one could consider it a level of consciousness, not unlike R.E.M. sleep. Actually, it's more like the consciousness you are in right as you are falling asleep, just as you begin to dream. There, the mind is more pliable and vulnerable. The fantasy worlds of your dreams are manipulated by the world where you real body lies.

Again, in this case, the most cogent of elements is sound. What you hear in real life is what you hear (or what morphs into what you hear) in your dream. Let's call this state "nearly dreaming".

When I am in that mental place where all of these sounds become so new and real to me, it's such a similar feeling, but it's less intense. Let's call it "nearly daydreaming".

In this place, my senses finally allow themselves to be totally optimistic about my environment. Every sound is luscious and deep and complex. Every thing that touches me is graceful and gentle. Every thing I touch is warm and inviting. Like a lucid dream, every single thing is exactly what I want it to be.

Like sleeping, or dreaming, or "nearly dreaming"; "nearly daydreaming" is a very volatile state. It can be so easily disturbed. And it's incredibly difficult to manufacture.

I want to go back there.