“To learn and never be filled, is wisdom; to teach and never be weary, is love.”

I have, in my life, had many teachers. My Papaw, my Dad, my Mom, even my Grandson. Wisdom came dropping from them like rain from the sky. There are times to learn and times to teach, times to gain wisdom and times to share it. If one does it well, it is a never ending cycle.

My Papaw taught me what it was to be a man. It is a lesson that I am still learning. There are time when I am selfish and petty, or worrisome and small, when he would not have been. If you know me at all, you know that every day I spend trying to live up to that example.

My Dad taught me to hunt and he taught me one lesson that has drifted up into my consciousness when I needed it most. My history with my Dad has not always been a good one, and there is one living human that I shared all of that with, just one. My Dad taught me how to track, how to sit in stillness for an ambush. It was a skill I used once and to my regret, there are no animals that walk on more than two legs that need fear me. It would have to be an act of desperation to use that talent. I am a good hunter, it's just been a long time. The ability to sit still for a long time -- to wait -- to be patient. It comes back to you when you are alone and remember what it is to be still. My Dad taught me another lesson, when my kids were taken from me by my ex-wife: "Now is not forever."

My Mamaw taught me how to love. She was born in early January, like Heather, and like her had a capacity to love that was greater than I have seen in all but a few. They are healers.

Sun-Tzu taught me how to fight a war when I was twelve years old. How to plan a battle, find an objective, weigh what you are willing to lose against what you are willing to gain. How to know the enemy and yourself. Sun-Tzu said many things that were memorable, the greatest was this: "If you know your enemy and you know yourself, you need not fear the outcome of 1000 battles."

Musashi taught me how to fight before I ever threw a punch in anger.

Victor Hugo taught me what it was to sacrifice and what it was to stand for something when there was nothing left to stand for.

Yeats taught me what chaos comes from unrestrained power. What it was to lose control.

Whether it be a job, friendship, family, love or some lesser goal, these teachers taught me the path to achieving what seems unattainable and have placed their mark upon me, as have you, as mothers, wives, daughters, sons, husbands, men and women, with simple words of pain shared in public or private. Personal victories, a kind word, a thought, a set upon the journey.

In every action, there is a lesson, every moment of pain, there is weakness that is tempered into strength, and every time the fire calls you and I to dance again in the flame, there is a connection, a continuity, a forging of understanding.

In sniper school, they would set us to squatting on a chair and leave us to wait for that perfect moment, the one that must be seized or lost until the next perfect moment. My legs would cramp and ache, until I learned how to wait for that moment, flexing and training the muscles in my legs. Patience is not inaction, it is an act of will.

Burn with me.