Everybody should have an ideal to look up to, to work towards. When we are younger, I guess we all do. We look up to our mother, we look up to our first standard class teacher, we look up to Bill Gates. We soon learn to look up to famous people in our fields… Claude Shannon in my case. But at some point, perhaps no one person can be one’s ideal. That ideal then must be described by the playwrit, the poet or the lyricist. A man so perfect that he can exist only in the human mind. Over the years, I have found a play, a poem and a song that get close to doing that for me.
The play is Shakespeare’s Hamlet. (below)
The poem is If by Rudyard Kipling.
The song is I Hope You Dance by Mark Sanders and Tia Sillers.
Of course, the ideal would have to be all this and much more, but for now, these are worthy goals…
Hamlet. Act I Scene III. Polonius to Laertes.
| And these few precepts in thy memory |
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| Look thou character. Give thy thoughts no tongue, |
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| Nor any unproportion’d thought his act. |
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| Be thou familiar, but by no means vulgar; |
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| The friends thou hast, and their adoption tried, |
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| Grapple them to thy soul with hoops of steel; |
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| But do not dull thy palm with entertainment |
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| Of each new-hatch’d, unfledg’d comrade. Beware |
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| Of entrance to a quarrel, but, being in, |
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| Bear ’t that th’ opposed may beware of thee. |
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| Give every man thine ear, but few thy voice; |
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| Take each man’s censure, but reserve thy judgment. |
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| Costly thy habit as thy purse can buy, |
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| But not express’d in fancy; rich, not gaudy; |
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| For the apparel oft proclaims the man, |
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| And they in France of the best rank and station |
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| Are most select and generous, chief in that. |
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| Neither a borrower, nor a lender be; |
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| For loan oft loses both itself and friend, |
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| And borrowing dulls the edge of husbandry. |
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| This above all: to thine own self be true, |
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| And it must follow, as the night the day, |
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| Thou canst not then be false to any man. |
And I’m reminded today (Jan 23 2010), over six months later of Abraham Lincoln’s letter to his son’s teacher. Every man would do well to learn for himself what he asks the teacher to teach his son…
He will have to learn, I know, that all men are not just, all men are not true. But teach him also that for every scoundrel there is a hero; that for every selfish Politician, there is a dedicated leader… Teach him for every enemy there is a friend,
Steer him away from envy, if you can, teach him the secret of quiet laughter.
Let him learn early that the bullies are the easiest to lick… Teach him, if you can, the wonder of books…But also give him quiet time to ponder the eternal mystery of birds in the sky, bees in the sun, and the flowers on a green hillside.
In the school teach him it is far honourable to fail than to cheat… Teach him to have faith in his own ideas, even if everyone tells him they are wrong… Teach him to be gentle with gentle people, and tough with the tough.
Try to give my son the strength not to follow the crowd when everyone is getting on the band wagon… Teach him to listen to all men… but teach him also to filter all he hears on a screen of truth, and take only the good that comes through.
Teach him if you can, how to laugh when he is sad… Teach him there is no shame in tears, Teach him to scoff at cynics and to beware of too much sweetness… Teach him to sell his brawn and brain to the highest bidders but never to put a price-tag on his heart and soul.
Teach him to close his ears to a howling mob and to stand and fight if he thinks he’s right. Treat him gently, but do not cuddle him, because only the test of fire makes fine steel.
Let him have the courage to be impatient… let him have the patience to be brave. Teach him always to have sublime faith in himself, because then he will have sublime faith in mankind.
This is a big order, but see what you can do… He is such a fine little fellow, my son!
~ Abraham Lincoln
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