“Always two there are, no more, no less. A master and an apprentice.” – Yoda
In my mid-20s, I spent a lot of time and energy thinking about Fatherhood. What lessons would I try to instill in my young children? How would I mould their moral compass and ensure their ethics are intact? Quickly, I realized the immense task at hand; the responsibility and obligation to teach my children everything I’ve learned in life.
For years, I was relentless and spent countless hours listening to podcasts, reading books, and doing my best to accumulate as much knowledge as possible. By my 29th birthday, my wife was pregnant and the clock was ticking. The truth is no one is ever ready to be a parent, it’s an impossible task to prepare for. Before I knew it, he was here; Father and Son, Master and Apprentice, school was in session.
Fast forward two years, the older my son gets and the more time I spend with him, I can’t help but think of the passage below, from The Alchemist about The Lake and Narcissus.
“The alchemist knew the legend of Narcissus, a youth who knelt daily beside a lake to contemplate his own beauty. He was so fascinated by himself that, one morning, he fell into the lake and drowned. At the spot where he fell, a flower was born, which was called the narcissus…
He said that when Narcissus died, the goddesses of the forest appeared and found the lake, which had been fresh water, transformed into a lake of salty tears.
‘Why do you weep?’ the goddesses asked.
‘I weep for Narcissus,” the lake replied.
‘Ah, it is no surprise that you weep for Narcissus,’ they said, ‘for though we always pursued him in the forest, you alone could contemplate his beauty close at hand.’
‘But… was Narcissus beautiful?’ the lake asked.
‘Who better than you to know that?’ the goddesses asked in wonder. ‘After all, it was by your banks that he knelt each day to contemplate himself!’
The lake was silent for some time. Finally, it said:
‘I weep for Narcissus, but I never noticed that Narcissus was beautiful. I weep because, each time he knelt beside my banks, I could see, in the depths of his eyes, my own beauty reflected.’
‘What a lovely story,’ the alchemist thought.”
When my son was six months old, I took him outside on our deck to experience his first summer sunset. As I held him, I watched him closely, eyes beaming with curiosity and excitement as he turned his gaze up to the sky. He was in awe, discovering a hidden treasure in plain sight. I took the opportunity to look for myself and stare into his eyes; Like the lake, I could see the beauty of his own world reflected.
Babies are the most primitive version of human beings. From the moment they are born, they begin to interact with the world and everything they experience is new. Pay attention, you’ll see they are always present. As we age, we forget this simple and effective lesson and instead let our minds wander. Instead of enjoying the moment, we fall into the trap of ruminating about the past or anticipating the unpredictable future. How different would our world be, if, for a moment, we altered our perspective and vision and looked at the world through the eyes of a child? Always curious, always present, never bothered by what’s behind or what’s ahead, finding beauty in plain sight.
My son is the master of the moment and I am his apprentice; thank you son for teaching me more than I can ever teach you.
SG
