One day a teacher, the next day done.
The trophy tarnished, the pedestal gone.
There were things I learned, were they all wrong?
Can the teachings be separated from the man, or are they one?
And, what of the teachings?
Are they beholden one unto another?
Or, with discernment, can I find truths independent?
Confusing it is when a teacher falls.
It is not that I believed him without fault.
But precarious it is, as if my foundation has been shaken to the ground.
If you can't trust your teacher, then who?
Now, this situation is not new,
many idols have fallen,history colored with their hue.
There is Madoff, Tiger, & McGwire to name a few.
But, those are recent, Nixon, Lenin, & Bonaparte, too.
Why does this happen?
What is wrong with them?
They have the world on a string, maybe it infects their heads.
But, are they my problem? I think not.
I should know better, my own intelligence I mock.
I knew my teacher, drawn to his light ignoring his dark.
Why is it that I put my caution aside and in faith did abide?
Was I caught in a spell?
Was he controlling my mind?
No, it wasn't an evil plot, something less designed.
Teachers and heroes fill a more human need.
Our longing for greatness, through them we live vicariously.
What goes awry is our mistaking their words and teachings for more than they are.
We take these things with their innate shine,
And, make them bigger and brighter in our eyes.
We talk of them and sing of them, too.
They are reported and awarded on the news.
As we hold them, and, with constant remind,
we fail to realize they're now fantasized.
As if it were us instead of them,
participating from a distance too short to see what's ahead.
There are warnings along the way.
Cautionary auguries, even open displays.
The gangly man with the swinging stick.
Who shows up at practice one day suddenly muscular and thick.
Did we not see it?
No our eyes did see but its our minds that wouldn't let us believe.
Yes, we are deceived, not by our heroes, though many have lied.
By our mind's desire to hide the imperfections because they're yours and mine.
Yes, idols are like us, we fall, too.
It is not always good that we do.
But the real crime is in our lives,
placing our attention on them instead of inside.
They are good to watch or for a moment's thrill.
But, the are not us, we have our own talents and skills.
At the knee of our own mind we should sit.
Learning from our own thoughts, exalting them.
Using idols and teachers for inspiration, but not without our own color.
For our heroes can neither save us, nor set us asunder.
But, even as our own idols care we must take.
Again, we too can fall, a mistake sealing our fate.
But, putting our faith in us we must.
Removing external adoration and misguided trust.
For idols will fall, that will not change.
But, now when they fall, we'll have nothing to be ashamed.