My dear boy,
“All the world’s a stage, and all the men and women merely players; they have their exits and their entrances….” My mother, pious as she is, would have her speech almost always seasoned with quotes from Shakespeare. Hence, I began this letter with a quote from her favourite playwright. Coincidentally, that was her favourite. I tell you that this was the cue that you were about to be mauled by your African mother’s guilt-tripping beast, fattened on the evergreen pastures of emotional blackmail. Nonetheless, it is never too tiresome a chore to bring to your sons’ remembrance the need for personal responsibility and familial contribution.
Hanging on “all men and women merely players,” Emmanuel Macron says, “We need people who dream impossible things, who maybe fail, sometimes succeed, but in any case who have that ambition.” Hence, I beseech you that you strive to keep aflame the fires of ambition for the world is dead without it. On the other hand, it is worth noting that the price for everything is everything.
Look, ambition left unchecked is akin to an unbridled tongue: it can consume the bearer. Take Macbeth, for instance.
Tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow
Creeps in this petty pace from day to day
To the last syllable of recorded time
And all our yesterdays have lighted fools
The way to dusty deaths. Out, out, brief candle!
Life’s but a walking shadow, a poor player
That struts and frets his hour upon the stage
And then is heard no more: it is a tale
Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury,
Signifying nothing.”
I dare say that long before we gather the woods for the fires of our ambitions, we must make the hearth of contentment. Think of our ambition as an horse: strong, fast, majestic even, but without a saddle runs wild without purpose. See, contentment being a saddle is all we need to tame that beast.
Nevertheless, contentment isn’t realised in the volume of things owned. It is coming to terms with the fact that all that we accomplish is not directly proportional to our value as individuals. I may acquire all there is to acquire, and it doesn’t even come close to a hair’s breadth to my worth as a person. Little wonder the good Book asks, “What shall it profit a man if he gains the world and loses his soul?”
Should I, therefore, grow lazy in my pursuit to make my mark in this world? Not at all. It would be a misery to do such a disservice to myself.
As such, I move through the world knowing that whatever I get is but a token of gratitude from the world for all that I give it, bearing in mind that even my Lord received only a tithe of gratitude after healing ten lepers.
In spite of this, can I find myself wanting more, directly or indirectly? It is only natural to want more, even when more doesn’t always mean more. Look, I had a boys’ conference in May. 500 boys were in attendance.
I had never done those numbers before. However, even before the conference ended, I was already in my head making plans for another, but this time, with 5,000 boys in attendance. This may reek of ingratitude, but with each victory our faith grows, and so does our hunger. We always want more. I, your father, always want more.
Nonetheless, I put a leash on my ambitions. That leash is contentment. Remember, “godliness with contentment is great gain.” Be wary of a man without it: he will burn both you and himself in pursuit of his ambitions. Think Macbeth.
Love,
Dad.
