My blog, under the big bold letters declaring ‘Stumble upon Serendipity’ boasts of a quote: “Nothing haunts us like the things we don’t say!”
This sentence defines all my writing and informs who I am, and it is borrowed from the non-fiction book ‘Tuesdays with Morrie’ by Mitch Albom. I recall a high-school-me hooked to this page-turner that permitted me to eavesdrop on conversations between the author Mitch Albom and his beloved former college professor, Morrie Schwartz. Discovering the goldmine of wisdom that stemmed from Morrie’s lived experience, I woke up a different person. Since then, I’ve read the book many times and gifted copies freely, in hopes of offering a transformative experience to many a friend.
Mitch lives a success-driven life, running a rat race that we’ve all been guilty of, brimming with work, consumed by materialistic orientation and achievement but lacking true purpose—until he hears that his old mentor is counting his last days. Morrie is fighting a losing battle against ALS, a terminal disease that affects your brain and spinal cord, making you lose muscle control. When Morrie’s life story is rendered in an interview, making national headlines, Mitch realises the fickleness of fame and the gravitas of his professor’s teachings.
Morrie’s positive spirit and poignant outlook towards life, despite his crippling illness, magnetises Mitch to meet him every Tuesday to learn the lessons of life, the last course his professor would offer him and the world.
Morrie freely imparts gems of wisdom on love, life, death and the world, reminding Mitch of what truly matters. The curriculum covers all that’s important but never taught in academia, themes on how to live, ranging from aging to forgiveness. The syllabus is the broadest one there is, and arguably the most important: it dwells on the meaning of life and death.
“Accept what you are able to do and what you are not able to do,” quips Morrie, setting the stage for profound reflection and learning. Morrie outlines his philosophy of embracing vulnerability, a radical thought for a man to live by in the 90s. He offers, “Once you learn how to die, you learn how to live.”
After Mitch’s job loss, he finds himself able to spend more time with this old friend and teacher. They begin by discussing all the suffering in the world and Morrie emphasises on connection, empathy and compassion. He also stresses on the importance of going against the grain, admitting, “If the culture doesn’t work, don’t buy it.”
Morrie insightfully allows for some daily dose of self-pity, given the war he wages to stay alive. But he also remembers to be grateful for all that’s good, teaching his student the value of embracing emotions without letting them control you. On mortality, he insists that the acceptance of death leads one to live a full life: “Don’t let go too soon, but don’t hang on too long.” He advises against any fear of aging as aging is a mere synonym for growth.
The lasting value of detachment is highlighted by the seemingly contrary advice to throw oneself into emotions so fully such that, by diving into experiences deeply, you can embrace their impermanence without clinging on to them. The tutor also cautions Mitch not to hold on to anger or regret, quipping “Forgive yourself before you die. Then forgive others.”
“Accept who you are and revel in it”, encourages Morrie. As the duo discuss regrets, the teacher swiftly points out that it’s never too late, a reminder that will encourage his student to eventually reconcile with his estranged brother. An eye-opener is rendered on the value of family through the earnest thought that we don’t just need others for survival as infants or the elderly, but community is the fulcrum that holds us together even in the interim.
They talk about the ephemerality of money and power in contrast to enduring love: “Love is how you stay alive, even after you are gone.” Mitch is forever changed by the words of wisdom on the commitment, patience and compromise a marriage takes, and how to value one’s partner. Morrie reminds his protégé to create his own culture, one of compassion where everyone takes responsibility for one another and whereby, life’s meaning is discovered in devotion to loving others.
It’s the thirteenth Tuesday of their weekly lessons and they fantasize about the perfect day and it is surprisingly filled with seemingly small moments. This gently reinforces the value of the little things. Morrie’s rapidly declining health forces the dynamic duo to bid an emotional goodbye but, forever the teacher, he insists that, “Death ends a life, not a relationship.” Morrie passes away but Mitch is transformed forever, as are we, the readers. Morrie lives on in everyone who lives love: “As long as we can love each other, and remember the feeling of love we had, we can die without ever really going away.”
Article 19 