Those who can do...

It's been an interesting week or so. Have begun reporting and writing again, am recalling the familiar problems of editors and deadlines, the traditional string of coffee cup after coffee cup. But nothing particularly noteworthy to write about. Rather, I've been thinking a lot lately about learning and re-learning.

I think it's a Zen concept, the notion of starting out at something and progressing past mastery until you are a beginner again, and then repeating. Wherever it comes from, I like it and believe it. There is nothing I would say I've mastered. But of the things I am quite good at, all follow this cycle. And maybe because it's an artificial kick-start to such a cycle, the act of teaching always makes me think of this notion. Kay and I went upstate this weekend and we brought the bicycles along. For the past few weeks now, we'll go out on the road, either upstate or in the city. And as I try to impart on to her what I've learned from the year or so that I've been riding seriously, it makes me answer questions that I already thought dealt with. I'm taking everything from "this is how you change a tire" and "this is how to pedal efficiently" to "why the hell would anyone want to burn away a meal to travel at 25mph?" Every opportunity for teaching is an opportunity for self examination in the task at hand. In fact, any skill differential seems to bring such questions to the fore. When I meet a novice guitarist, I recall why I play. When I meet a master guitarist, I question the direction I wish to go.

Teaching and learning are just two words for the same concept, of momentary transference across a skill differential.