The man was small in stature, but his words thunderous in their implications. He spoke with a calm, quiet dignity. He taught me about the symbiotic and paradoxical relationship between teacher-pupil, pupil-teacher. He taught me about the duality of a true learning experience, in which one is both pupil and teacher simultaneously - teaching oneself and another. As I listened and learned from him, I also listened to the lessons I was teaching myself. In turn, the teacher learned from me. I explained to him the invaluable lessons he taught me and he gazed upon me with a gentle smile.

The man was not real in a physical sense, but he was more real than any mortal person. I dreamed about him. He is the Teacher. I remember little of what he actually said in the dream, just the essence. I remember the inspiring feelings he stirred within me. Such as the unique, indescribable feeling one gets when they feel they have been privy to new insights. Above all, though, the teacher gave me hope - hope in one's ability to transcend the primal human impulse to resist learning and seek refuge in the comfort of one's own predigested worldview.

In reality, we are our own teacher. We create the lesson plans. We decide what is true and what is fact; what is important and what is irrelevant. We choose whether or not to listen - to others and to ourselves. The ability to listen is the true lesson in life, to really listen. The ability to listen to ourselves while listening to another, but to ourselves, first and foremost. If we listen close enough to ourselves, we will learn all there is to learn. We can listen to the greatest thinkers the world has known, but the words will be empty if we do not give them relevance. Each one of us is the Teacher.