Learn What it Means to Take it Easy
A Letter to an Erring Son from a Father at Large
Dear Telemachus,
Grace and peace to you, Huìós, from the vast swinging bridge, that suspended link between heaven and earth where mortals’ virtues are burned away in conveyance to the Elysian Field, that dwelling place of the easiest life where there is no snow, winter, or rain.
On the far side of that fast-approaching sacred boundary, the constant stream of Ocean sends up breezes of the West Wind blowing briskly for the refreshment of the saints. On the opposite perimeter, however, where the bridge meets terra firma, we being still in the flesh, must mortify our sins daily and faithfully carry the burdens of fruitful labor. Such is the reason for my prolonged absence this time.
I suspect you are surprised to receive a letter from my hand addressed specifically to you when my typical manner is to address the circumspect keeper of my tree-trunked bed and whole assembly of my loins. Nevertheless, I have an occasion to write to you, personally, so I trust you will pass on my loving regards to our beloved and circumspect Penelope, then bend your ear to the words of your father.
Huìós, troubling news has reached the other side of Hercules’ Pillars. I have heard rumors over here, near the limits of the earth where the voices of the gods echo off the mountains like thunder and the scent of ambrosia descends like dewy drops of rain.
If these egregious rumors are true in even half the measure that’s been told me, how much more egregious must the sparks of your trouble be at home. I recall the wise and righteous King of Jerusalem, that notable ruler of peace, saying, A good name is to be chosen rather than great riches, and favor is better than silver or gold. For your sake, I had hoped better things for you than what I have heard.
Most explicitly, you have been educated on the immeasurable importance of a man’s good name. His character must be such that he has favor amongst both the noble in the place where he lives and the barbarians who behold him from a distance. I don’t mean that a man should set himself up for vainglorious attention or hide his sin to protect his reputation. For as the same wise King I previously mentioned (one whose name I dare not use flippantly or in vein) has often noted, Every prudent man acts with knowledge, but a fool is wise in his own eyes and cannot help but flaunt his folly. He further noted that when such a man conceals his transgressions, he will not prosper, but only the man who confesses and forsakes his transgressions will obtain mercy.
While I want to believe the message brought to me by Pheme (at home we call her Ossa, that same goddess who sped through Ithaca to tell the news when the suitors were destroyed), is not true, her news has alway carried a more-than-fair element of verity. Nevertheless, five years or longer has passed since our departure and a man cannot know the full truth of these things with certainty when he has been absent so long.
Regardless, I feel compelled to advise you as though the message is true while inwardly and silently hoping it is not. I choose to address you in this manner knowing that a rebuke will go deeper into a man of understanding than a hundred blows will go into a fool. I believe the benefit you’ll gain from from my exhortations will be valuable to you, and meaningful enough to pass on to your own children when that day comes. (You will bid Eucharis good health for me will you not?)
Allow me to begin by reminding you that you are a man now. Although, my absence in the early years of your life were undoubtedly keenly felt, you came of age when together we threw off the greedy and treacherous suitors who were eating us out of house and home and daily antagonizing and harassing our faithful Penelope. Recall how even after I escaped the witch’s curse, and journeyed home through great perils, and we set things right in our home, we had to fight even once again.
You and your father, and your father’s father, Laertes, stood shoulder to shoulder and fought courageously for crown and country, and for the dignity of our family’s blood, when the aggrieved families of the righteously-judged suitors sought revenge. Even then I said to you:
Telemachus, now yourself being present, where men do battle, and the bravest are singled out from the rest, you must be certain not to shame the blood of your fathers, for we in time past all across the world have surpassed in manhood and valor.
And you answered me thoughtfully and courageously, saying,
You shall see, dear father, if you wish, as far as my will goes, I will not shame my blood that comes from you, which you speak of.
That day you were courageous. I have marked the occasion well. You played the man and did not shame my blood. Together, we fell gloriously on their front fighters and struck them down with our swords. And, we would have killed them all had not Athena, that venerable goddess of wisdom, intervened by terrorizing their hearts with the green fear till they dropped their weapons and ran home.
Playing the man that day you made me a proud father. I shall never forget it!
But what of it now? That was its own day. Is it true your speech is now like that of the suitors’ avengers, the speech of arrogance, claiming for yourself that for which there is no justification? Is it true that you now think of yourself more highly than you ought?
Huìós, There is an evil that I have seen under the sun, as it were an error proceeding from the ruler: folly is set in many high places, and the rich sit in a low place. I have seen slaves on horses, and princes walking on the ground like slaves. Assure me, if you can, that no such ignominy can be laid to your charge!
Physically, you are a man; but are you one in heart, soul, and tongue also? Hair on one’s chin and testes fertile with seed no more make a man than teeth and tail make a dog. Asses and adders have both teeth and tail, but few are the fools who trust the former to yield rather than kick and the latter to lick rather than bite. No man can expect to be an angel but none of noble blood should resign to brutishness and be allowed to call it manliness.
For now, I must soon take my leave of this pen and ink; other, lesser duties which demand my attention like hungry and neglected dogs are presently tugging at my hem. But before I go, allow me to remind you of the timeless wisdom I bestowed upon you when we parted ways, you with Eucharis and me to the vast swinging bridge by way of the deep waters of the wine-dark sea. It is wisdom my own father bestowed on me as did his father before him; and, I too have bestowed it upon you if you’ll recall it.
The sooner you learn that this world is made of laws and boundaries, some natural, some artificial, and both for our good—these boundaries are meant to protect our life, liberty and property—the sooner you will be able to avoid the consequences of violating them. Like a gate that keeps the city safe from the barbarians, all proverbial fences keep neighbors in favor with one another and allow us to flourish in community.
Just like the man who is injured by falling into the very pit he dug to try and trap someone else, a man who disregards boundaries in life will inevitably suffer the consequences of his own actions. It is Providence who created consequences intrinsic in every kind of action, and so it is Providence who stewards those consequences. Once we act, the consequences are alway beyond our control. That is why it is foolish to sow wild oats but expect there to be a crop failure. There seldom is. It’s the law of the harvest. A man always reaps what he sows.
Remember the fellow that dug through a wall in utter disregard for his neighbor’s privacy? Even though the wall may not have tumbled on him, it was no accident that he was bitten by a serpent that had made its abode in the wall.
It is common knowledge that a man who quarries stones is more likely to be injured by falling rocks than by anything else, and the man who splits logs is in constant danger of being crushed or impaled by the trees he is falling. So it is for the man who mettles with boundaries. Sooner or later he will find himself injured by his actions. A man who disturbs Tauros should not be surprised when he’s impaled by his horns.
Remember Huìós, if the iron is blunt, and one does not sharpen the edge, he must use more strength, but wisdom assures a man it’s worth his time to stop swinging and sharpen the blade. Wisdom will help a man succeed but the way of transgressors will always be hard.
I hope to write again soon; in the meantime, do yourself a favor and learn what it means to take it easy!
Your father at large,
Odysseus