Instructions
When I was in high school, I truly loved H. Jackson Brown’s Life’s Little Instruction Book, a collection of short bits of wisdom Brown originally typed up and gifted to his son on his first day of college.
A surprising number of the instructions have stuck with me over the years, word for word. Things like:
“If in a fight, hit first and hit hard.”
“Choose your life’s mate carefully. From this one decision will come ninety percent of all your happiness or misery.”
“When complimented, a sincere ‘thank you’ is the only response required.”
So, earlier this week, when I came across it again by chance, I gave it a quick re-read. And I still think it’s absolutely great.
Though I had, in the years since I last picked it up, forgotten what was always perhaps my favorite part: a short poem Brown wrote at the beginning of the collection, which I think so beautifully summarizes what it means to be a father and a son:
Son, how can I help you see?
May I give you my shoulders
to stand on?
Now you see farther than me.
Now you see for both of us.
Won’t you tell me what you see?