Aristotle called teaching the highest form of understanding.
To know a subject, teach it. Explain it to someone. Where you struggle will be where your understanding is weak. And teaching is a form of giving that has been considered noble and generous. Thankfully, many are willing to teach.
The prompt for this morning's pages:
We should all be teachers; we should teach what we have come to know; and sharing wisdom and not just facts, we might hope to become a people as wise as we have become techie-smart.
There are many digital writers today who are teachers. They do what they do ("create content") because the pursuit rewards them twice: first, when the connection, the new insight comes to them; the AHA moment. And then, when they tell someone else what they have learned.
The telling may nudge the rudder of someone else's journey. Sometimes, we learn that what we have said as teacher has mattered, has made a difference. Far more often, we never know, but have hope. And write on.
WHY TEACHERS TEACH
I discovered this in 2002 when I stared Fragments from Floyd--that exploring and sharing from my world of interests (in the natural world and on the expanding interwebs of the times) carried a reward of discovery from the wider digitally-accessible cosmos, of finding common ground and community. I realized that this thinking and sharing out in the open was something I wanted and needed in my life.
I wanted it for what it did for me as a thinker and wonder-er. and for the resonance that happened with readers. Often my words and images would lead to beneficial conversations, and conversations to fellowship: to being among peers with common interests, ideas and experience. Over the years, I've had a half dozen blog readers travel from other states to visit us in Floyd, and many local friendships were introduced through my writing.
WHAT’S THE SO-WHAT?
So how does this mesh with my recent and mostly-private writing and thinking? It is this: that we are all of us teachers, but not all of us teach.
While I'm speaking particularly to my age peers, younger people have learned life lessons that can help a younger one know or do things a little differently because of that learned thing.
And you elders like me, no matter your life trajectory, you cannot have spent 70 years on the planet without learning some valuable lessons. Where are your students? What are you teaching them? You know more than you think, to have lived this long. Don't let it die with you!
What does it mean to be an ELDER? Do you possess wisdom with authority and humility, and share that wisdom with family and community? How does a merely Older become an Elder?
I had this very discussion recently with an old and dear friend, distanced too long by miles and public health hindrances. His answer and story, from a history of full immersion in conscious eldering, we will return to, perhaps soon.
TEACHABLE MOMENT
Confession: The first draft of this bit went on to make claims that I have since retracted.
I claimed to have found a “lesson” that I intend to teach more fully than when it was presented locally and with limited digital notice in 2013. It bears elaboration. I feel like this core message has valuable “land ethic” and eco-awareness perspectives for these times of immense danger and vast opportunity to start again.
I deleted the too-bold announcement of this intended magnum opus after a reality check, where I held up what it would take to complete this project against the anticipated friction in the real world of my life, and life in general just now.
Even so, I will nibble away at this elephant when circumstances allow, learning way more than I can share, and feeding old brains is good for them.
I will leave those incremental notes here from time to time. And I will go forward with the notion that I am an elder-teacher who continues to be gratified when I can bring learning and learners together for another little while.
📚 NOTE: I would be gratified to grow a larger base of active subscribers to Earth Alive. It’s harder to talk to myself than to an imagined room of listener-friends. So please share.
► The impulse for this article came in part from Michael Simmon’s article —Memory & Learning Breakthrough: It Turns Out That The Ancients Were Right
I love reading still, but learning and remembering what I have read is not my focus anymore. In other words at 79 years old I have become mentally lazy!
FWIW, I feel like I'm a better person for having known since those early days of blogging, and I'm happy we were able to cross the imaginary internet friend barrier and meet in person a few years ago! One particular lesson that I took from Slow Road Home is that you don't need to get out into nature to enjoy nature. There is plenty to learn from a 1/8 acre townhouse lot, if you just take the time to look.