How to win the aging race.

About four months ago, I was having a discussion with Fintan, six, about life. I have always found his discussions interesting since there tends to emerge from them, an unexpected wisdom. I find his way of seeing appealing and his quickness to understand refreshing. However, these are things that people who don't know him, tend to overlook - because they don't pause to actually talk to him. Thus, to them, he appears to be just a friendly, gentle boy - but he is much more than that. I suppose, in life, people often fail to see others as they are - because they fail to take the time or effort to get to know them.

I was sitting in the living room with the entire family when Fintan called across the coffee table to me:

“How old is Ramin?”

Ramin is the son of some friends of ours.

“Five”, I said, fairly, but not entirely sure of the answer.

“I’m six.”, he declared, with the merest hint of triumph.

“Yes and I am 41: I win!”, I announced, with a flourish I didn't feel.

“Actually, the sad thing about life and getting older is that the winner is really losing, because he has less time left. So I am winning but losing.”, I observed to Fintan, matter of factly.

There was not, then, the slightest pause before he answered: he threw back his answer as if he were playing tennis and reflecting the ball, even as it crossed the net to him.

“And I am losing, but winning.”

He looked at Ancient me, with his young eyes and there was something of mystery in them. There was no triumph in his declaration, no sense that he actually wanted to win this race. He understood, I felt, about life and mortality and that the fact that his father was "winning", but "losing" was nothing to be happy about. Fintan is like an ocean that not so much stretches off into the distance - as all oceans do - but which is deeper than one could ever know: it is filled with hidden, ever unknowable depths that may never be seen, or felt, but from which, the occasional hint of their existence emerges. So it is, in speaking to Fintan. Occasionally, he throws out a remark that makes you realize, in an instant, that he understands something you might not have expected him to, or that he has noticed something perhaps you didn't even notice yourself.

In an adult, one might call such a quality wisdom - but I am not sure if that is what it should be called in a child. It seems strange to think of a child as wise - since wisdom depends so much on time for reflection, growth and maturity. Perhaps, then, it should be called "insight". Fintan has flashes of unexpected insight and comes out with remarks, at surprising moments, that strike one as philosophical. I think he has a good feeling for life and what it means, yet I don't know where this intuition comes from, or where it might lead.

The funny thing about Fintan is that he is so disarming. His manner is so innocent, so gentle, so guileless that one simply does not expect him to come out with the things he does, when he does. Someone who did not know him well, could easily fail to know him at all. In a way, he is the most inaccessible of my sons, the one least accurately read, at first. It is very clear, for instance, that Ainan is effulgurantly bright; that Tiarnan is whimsical and surprising - but Fintan is not clearly seen: he is like a Teddy Bear that just happens to speak like Socrates, when you actually take the time to listen. Most people just see the teddy bear, however. These are, however, people who don't take the time to get know people. So, in just seeing Fintan's teddy bearishness, they are revealing that they are, themselves, a little shallow in their understanding of the world: they miss what is right in front of them.

Fatherhood is an adventure without limit. I cannot know where it is all going, what it all means, or what shall happen. All I can I do, is to do my best, along the way, to help my children on their individual journeys - whatever those journeys happen to be, or wherever they choose to go. Some people worry about failing as a father - but I don't think you can say that a father has failed, as long as he actually tries to be there, tries to help his children grow in whichever direction they choose. The only fathers who fail, are the ones who never try at all. Well, that is not me. I am trying, everyday, to understand, and to be guided by my growing understanding in how I might help my sons become whatever they choose to be. That choice, of course, is key. Some parents do all the choosing for their children. I think, however, that such children are likely to be chosen into unhappiness.

I don't know the future. I know this, however: my sons will be what they want to be, within the limits of what can be realized with whatever luck we have and whatever resources we can muster. I hope that will be enough.

In the meantime, Fintan will, no doubt, reveal glimmers of his unexpected wisdom and leave traces of conversations to be remembered for years to come.

(If you would like to learn more of Ainan Celeste Cawley, 10, or his gifted brothers, Fintan, 6 and Tiarnan, 4, this month, please go to:
http://scientific-child-prodigy.blogspot.com/2006/10/scientific-child-prodigy-guide.html

I also write of gifted education, child prodigy, child genius, adult genius, savant, megasavant, HELP University College, the Irish, the Malays, Singapore, Malaysia, IQ, intelligence and creativity.

My Internet Movie Database listing is at: http://imdb.com/name/nm3438598/
Ainan's IMDB listing is at http://imdb.com/name/nm3305973/
Syahidah's IMDB listing is at http://imdb.com/name/nm3463926/

Our editing, proofreading and copywriting company, Genghis Can, is at http://www.genghiscan.com/

This blog is copyright Valentine Cawley. Unauthorized duplication is prohibited. Use only with permission. Thank you.)