One of my close friends recently posted on my thread about a book entitled, "Tuesdays with Morrie." Immediately, I liked the sound of that. How wonderful to be able to have deep conversations with someone every Tuesday. We can discuss topics that did not revolve around pop culture, trivialities of daily life, but mostly, we can just be real with each other, sitting together, dynamically talking about what really matters in life.
I got to the chapter, The Classroom, when these words stopped me:
"Well, for one thing, the culture we have does not make people feel good about themselves. We're teaching the wrong things. And you have to be strong enough to say if the culture doesn't work, don't buy it. Create your own. Most people can't do it. They're more unhappy than me---even in my current condition."
It was no secret. Morrie was dying. He wanted his student, Mitch, to glean as much wisdom and years of fruitful living as possible.
Suddenly, I couldn't turn the page. I felt heart sick. Mitch wasn't related to Morrie. Neither had Mitch spent the last couple of years being geographically close to Morrie. Here was a man facing death, taking the time to impart his life's wisdom, wanting to live another day so he can make a difference in another's life.
Not so much because I knew he was dying. I cried because the truth hit me, "do I have a Morrie in my life? Does anyone truly have a Morrie in their life?" Not someone in their last days wanting to impart their last breath with you, but someone who genuinely loves you so much that they want to spend time with you every week, teaching you about the true meaning of life. The stuff that really matters: the unknown, scary stuff within each of us.
Morrie understood Mitch to a degree no one else did. Morrie was unabashed in the way he loved life and how he went about investing in the things that mattered. By far, he was not perfect. Life taught him many, many truths.
I have yet to finish this chapter or blog. I don't want to. I want this thought and Morrie's words to simmer in my and your brain and heart for a while. So I had to ask myself, "do I have a Morrie in my life? And, am I a Morrie in someone else's life?"
And I ask you: Do you have a Morrie in your life? And, are you a Morrie in someone else's life?
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