Scott said to me the other day, “Never argue with an idiot. They can’t rise up to your level so they will drag you down to theirs and beat you there based on experience.”
This goes for youth as well. You can’t argue with a teenager who is yelling, “you just don’t understand…” Adult’s generally know this – until it comes to other “adults”. It seems we have a really hard time as adults treating all displays of immaturity the same. We tend to assume that adults choose to be immature, that they know better, that they could give a mature response but they make a conscious decision not to, so we argue with them. I used to think this way, but recently I’ve begun to re-assess this notion. Maybe if they really did know more they would choose differently…
On New Year’s I got a little reminder of what I really know when I dance with a guy who was a ballroom instructor and I danced with my friend who was embarrassed to even be on the dance floor. Even though I had a fairly good idea of what I was doing, I had to go slowly with my friend. After all, if you are going to teach someone something you have to start at the level the person is at, right? With my ballroom instructor friend I was challenged to reach up to a level that was a bit beyond me. The thing about being a teacher is that you have to be willing to be a student too. You have to be open to new possibilities no matter what you think you might already know.
I often found myself behaving on-level with JJ, which meant discussing things fit for an 8-25 year old mentality in general. Most often the frustrating basics of ideas instead of the mature nuances. I thought that I had learned something from my experience as a teacher and I always tried to meet him at his level. For some reason, this just never seems to work in relationships. I would like to think that if he knew how to meet me on a different level he would have, and I often wonder if I gave him a chance to learn. I also wonder why it is that I can be such a good teacher, such a good mentor for my son, such a good communicator with my friends and still be so very terrible when it comes to matters of the heart.
And I like to think I’m a good cook – then I meet someone who can really cook. I can hope that I will learn a few techniques from them to improve my skills or a few new recipes to add to my repertoire. I hope that I can continue to learn throughout my life. I think I’ll practice being both a teacher and a student in my kitchen and hopefully some of those lessons will serve me well in the rest of my little world.
Honeyed Carrot Soup – Something New (GF, V, VG)
- 2 1/2 cups water
- 1-2 bunches of carrots (with the tops), depending on size
- 1 veggie bullion
- 1 large onion
- dash of white wine or light alcohol (I used spiced rum)
- 1-2 hand-fulls of chili-lime cashews (TJ’s), depending on how rich and spicy you want it
- creme fraishe
Add the bullion to your water and simmer on low heat while you prepare the rest of your ingredients. Chop the carrots and onions and saute in butter until the begin to soften. Just before they finish salt and pepper them, give them a taste of the honey and a dash of rum. Add the mixture to your pot and let it simmer for about half an hour or until the veggies are nice and soft. This is where you add in your cashews and then let it cook for about another 5 minutes.
Transfer your soup to a blender and hit the liquify button. I’ve never made a bisque type soup before and I found the blending part to be strangely fulfilling. I felt fancy. Transfer the contents back to your pot and warm it up a bit more. When you dish it up add a dollop of creme fraishe and stir it in. Serve with warm bread. Yum.
“In examinations, the foolish ask questions the wise cannot answer.” Oscar Wilde
The first and wisest of them all professed to know this only, that he nothing knew. – JOHN MILTON, Paradise Regained
“That is what learning is. You suddenly understand something you’ve understood all your life, but in a new way.” ~Doris Lessing
No matter how one may think himself accomplished, when he sets out to learn a new language, science, or the bicycle, he has entered a new realm as truly as if he were a child newly born into the world. ~Frances Willard, How I Learned to Ride the Bicycle