It is my hope and intent to impart at least a small measure of my (admittedly) peculiar worldview to my son. To that end, I have a tendency to think in terms of metaphor and simile. Recent events in my life have sharpened one of those mental pictures rather significantly, and I share it here, as I share it with my son.
Humans are adrift in a great Ocean of Uncertainty, in small boats that are difficult to steer, and easily overcome by waves. Sadly, we don't get to choose our starting boats, and some are undoubtedly more maneuverable than others, due to not much more than random chance. But even the very best of boats is still adrift in an unimaginably large Ocean, where nothing is guaranteed.
As we drift in this ocean, we occasionally encounter other boats. And rarely, we see that if we were to sail together with this other boat, even for a time, our own journey might be more secure, more fulfilling, or just plain more fun.
But in order for us to sail together, we must first cast a line out to this other boat, and they must cast a line to ours. Then, once we've tied the lines together, we can start to build a bridge between our boats. Some bridges are long, because our boats, while traveling in the same general direction, drift apart for various reasons. Yet the bridge remains. Some bridges are short, for we find our boats sail best when close together.
On rare occasion, if we're truly fortunate, we can build a bridge that brings another boat so close to ours that you can hardly tell where one boat begins, and the other ends.
These bridges can sustain us as we drift upon this great Ocean.
Yet, there are times that it becomes clear that the bridge between one boat and another can no longer stand. Perhaps the other boat has been filling with water, swept over the side as the great Ocean heaves and swells. Perhaps our own boat has taken on water, and for us to survive, it's necessary to empty our boat out...alone. Still other times, we realize perhaps the bridge between boats was unwise from the start, and it just took us being battered by the waves to finally see the truth.
Whatever the reason, when it becomes apparent that the bridge between boats is threatening to sink us, we must be willing to cut loose the lines and let the bridge fall. Better to lose a bridge, than our boat.
It may be, however, for one reason or another, simply cutting away the lines will not be enough for the bridge to fall away. Perhaps over time, the salt and barnacles will have so solidified the attachment of this bridge to our boat, that the only way for us to break it loose is to stride to the middle, douse it in kerosene, and put it to the flame.
In that situation, there's no chance that your own boat won't burn, at least a little. It will take time and effort to repair. But it will remain afloat. And if you've built other bridges, you might not have to repair it alone.
I can't truly say if my image of the world will resonate with my son. I am certain he'll come up with his own picture someday. If I've done a good job of being his father, he just might stroll over our bridge to tell me about it.
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