Mentor Rivals

He straddled the motorcycle, the seat unfamiliar beneath him. The first mentor appointment was with Fisherman. As his right thumb touched the ignition button, the engine barked to life. His stomach churned with fear and anticipation, the machine rumbling beneath him—rhythmic, patient—as if waiting to see if he truly meant to leave safety, stability, and familiarity behind.

Nathan bit his lower lip, inhaled, and then flicked the throttle. The bike lurched forward, jolting him with raw power.

Soon, the city faded behind him as he roared onto the open road, breaking free from the confines of traffic lights, cubicles, office politics, and plasma screens. The hum and predictability of daily life were left behind, swallowed by open air, risk, and possibility. The engine thundered, the wind battered him, and the coastal road’s curves beckoned him to lean in and commit—or perish.

For the first time in months, Nathan felt exposed, vulnerable—and alive. No hesitation. No cautious half-steps. Only the choice to move forward. A reckless, necessary surrender to the unknown.

The life he knew shrank in the rearview mirrors. Regrets, doubts, fears, and hopes all merged into a powerful force, propelling him forward. The view of the rhythmic lapping of the waves as he traced the road’s curves and curls, both calmed and energized him.

Nathan didn’t have any pre-planned questions. He simply wished to get to know each of his four new mentors and discover what was important to them. He was eager to explore their worlds, to listen and to probe. He was curious to decipher how they viewed life. In the process, Nathan hoped to establish what the most important questions would be to ask them. 

As his thumb flicked the kill switch, stopping the low, rhythmic idle, Fisherman appeared around the corner of the house with a warm, welcoming smile. He had two fishing rods in his right hand and a basket with a flask of coffee and a snack in his left. 

Fisherman 

Though semi-retired, Fisherman found himself invigorated by nature. His face radiated wholesomeness, and Nathan recognized an ocean of contentment and gratitude in his eyes. They agreed to meet near the dock in the future, around an hour before sunrise, unless the weather was too turbulent to head out onto the water. 

By dawn most mornings, Fisherman would be standing by a fire with other fishers gazing at the dark rolling waves to decide whether it would be a good day to venture out to sea. As full moon and new moon, spring tide and neap tide came and went, Nathan began to recognize the patterns in Fisherman’s life and habits. He was fascinated by Fisherman’s deep connection to nature, family, and community. He discovered that to Fisherman, “to be alive” meant having a sea breeze ruffling his hair and the salty spray from the ocean on his lips or, otherwise, to be with people he knew and trusted. Nathan Lucas became convinced that Fisherman would wither away if he were ever taken away from his coastline community. He heard the tales of how Fisherman’s parents and grandparents had taught him to understand the language of the sea—an art Fisherman passed on to his children and was now sharing with his grandchildren, too. 

Fisherman didn’t toy with nature. Nathan picked up that he’d never willingly set himself up to battle it. Instead, he would gaze patiently and alertly, pitching his senses. He went out to sea when the tide, the wind, and the color of the water invited him along. He pulled the anchor and returned to land the moment a wind started wafting from the wrong direction or cap clouds began gathering around certain distant mountain peaks. Before he would plot any plans for the next few days, he would consider the state of the moon and the banter and observations of fellow fisherfolk. Fisherman’s life wasn’t ordered by calendars and clocks but by the rhythms and voice of nature.

Nathan heard how Fisherman had lost friends and a brother out at sea. Fisherman realized all too well that nature gives, and nature takes. But, the more his uncanny knack for observing was sharpened, the more Fisherman’s caution, trepidation, as well as intense love for the ocean, grew ever deeper and stronger. 

Scientist

With the satisfying growl of the engine underneath him, Nathan first stopped near the entrance to Scientist’s world, a sophisticated research laboratory on the university campus. She wore a pristine white lab coat, her sharp eyes peeking over stylish reading glasses. She was surrounded by computers, clipboards, and electronic devices overflowing with information. Nathan was struck by the stark contrast between his first two mentors.

As Fisherman lived off the sea, Scientist lived off oceans of information. Fresh data was her daily catch, her inner sustenance. Knowledge, to her, was strength, and facts were friends. In time, he could see that nothing gave her greater joy than identifying and isolating a piece of the unknown and then analyzing it to oblivion, casting the trawling nets of her mind around it, and hauling it in. Using careful analysis, she would separate data from preconceptions, the useful from the unusable, the wheat from the chaff. She would filter out the figments and partition facts into finer categories for further detailed analysis. Nathan was astonished to learn to what extent Scientist’s world was black and white, right or wrong, fact or fiction. Facts were all that mattered to her—facts that could be measured, weighed, and cataloged—facts that could be verified through further experiments. Everything else was irrelevant; she had no patience with naïve superstitions or meaningless old wives’ tales. Nathan was intrigued to learn that, to Scientist, anyone interested in anything but rigorously proven facts was undeniably an air-headed fool.

Just before Nathan left, Scientist’s son walked in to join her for lunch. Nathan was introduced to the pleasant, intelligent-looking science student. Scientist’s eyes lighted up with affection and pride.

Artist 

Every second week, Nathan thundered toward the hilly parts where Artist and his wife lived. The region had a reputation for drawing in all manner of creative souls to come and settle there.

The artist couple looked as if they’d had a glimpse into the next season’s fashion tips. Artist featured a stud on his lip and three in his eyebrow. The faint scent of incense often lingered around him. Nathan soon noticed that this new friend had shaved his hair or beard in a different style or, ever so frequently, dyed it a different tone.

Artist loved to invite Nathan along to spend time with other creatives. His toes would curl in sheer delight whenever he encountered the bustling energy of art festivals and experimental theater, the alluring sounds of exotic musical instruments, or the charm of art markets. 

Nathan was taken aback by the extent to which Artist was irked by the corporate types who were moving into his area drawn by the rising property prices—he loathed their eagerness to commercialize beauty because it stunted spontaneity and raw creativity. Position and power structures made no impression on Artist. Nathan noticed that being part of a like-minded community mattered a lot to him. Creative self-expression mattered. Being closer to nature and living in harmony with his natural surroundings mattered.

Artist intrigued Nathan. On the one hand, he was an adrenaline junkie—always first to go base jumping, cliff diving, or to try out the latest extreme sport. But his pulsing love for adventure was balanced by a mellow, tranquil spirit and a love for barefoot walks in nature so he could be in physical contact with Mother Earth.
 

Wildlife Researcher

 With heightened alertness from a jolt of adrenaline in his veins, Nathan roared along the narrow ribbon of road toward Wildlife Researcher’s base. From there, they drove off in an SUV to a scenic spot and went for a long walk, surrounded only by the beauty of nature.

Nathan learned about the researcher’s PhD in zoology, specializing in animal psychology and conservation. He heard fascinating tales from the time Wildlife Researcher followed elephants in Africa with the assistance of local tribes, among whom he lived and with whose language and culture he was well versed. 

“When I first went to Africa, I thought the elephants and the land needed me,” Wildlife Researcher explained, his tone reflective. “But in time I realized, I needed the majestic creatures far more than they needed me. Immersed in a world untouched by Western certainties—far from all the concrete, plastic, and screens—I found myself drawn to a deeper understanding of life.” He paused. “I had to shed the mental guardrails I’d carried from years of study to grapple with the beauty and mystery—the sanctity, and sometimes the cruelty, that I encountered.”

Nathan learned how Wildlife Researcher’s insights, gained from tracking elephants, shaped his passion for researching threatened wildlife species locally.

In the months that followed, Nathan realized that this zoologist was a student of life in all its layers and levels, from deciphering the mysteries of animal minds to savoring flawlessly phrased insights from classic books. He honed his understanding of instinct, intelligence, and the unseen influences that shape behavior—human and animal alike. His depth of insight showed in the evocative poems he wrote, blending the emotional landscapes of human and animal minds. His striking wildlife photography froze fleeting moments of raw beauty—each image a tribute to his deep reverence for nature.

One moment, Wildlife Researcher could stand in awe of the impenetrable mysteries of creation; the next, he would be a proficient scientist: measuring, weighing, and calculating. He got furious at people who exploited or destroyed the marvels of the natural world. He was appalled that so many species of wildlife were going extinct while obvious perpetrators escaped justice and remained undeterred in their abuse and devastation. 

Although it cut him to the heart when specific wildlife species had to be culled to restore the natural balance—when faced with this type of conundrum, the scientist in him took over. His mind could reign in his heart when the two aspects of his psyche yanked him in opposing directions.

Nathan was fascinated to see how, to Wildlife Researcher, it was a matter of principle to do his best to understand the other side of every significant story. He believed there are choices to be made between right and wrong, and nuanced gray areas in between, in matters we face every day. He asked more questions than he had answers for. He was not afraid of living with unanswered questions. In fact, he was most at ease when living in the tension between conflicting truths.

Wildlife Researcher was compassionate, ethical and reasoned. He was a student of life and a seeker of wisdom.                    

★