I do not know what I have truly learned other than the fact that I am human.

Carpenters tend to be very proficient at math because they constantly apply their knowledge to real-world applications. Workers who practice what they learn will be good at what they have learned. Someone cannot study every nuance of a soccer game and be expected to play an inverted winger position—they must put in the work to learn why those nuances exist and why certain techniques work better than others. A new player will learn very quickly that softening the impact of the ball as it gets passed to them will allow the ball to land directly in front of his or her feet as opposed to keeping his or her foot stagnant or even kicking the ball back.

Learning is recognizing what is true or works with experience.

However, the relevance of information affects how we learn, often shortening the time frame out of urgency. I have learned that singing from my throat hurts. I have learned that touching hot pans hurt. I’ve collected these lessons from singular experiences. Likewise, someone most likely will not forget a singular traumatic experience. Such emotionally-stirring moments that produce massive aftereffects bury themselves in our memory. The worker of a submarine who failed to save his crewmates from drowning by not turning a valve or door handle the right way will never forget how to turn that valve or door handle. The cavemen who laid the floor tiles we build from today saw—clearly, with their eyes—animals, including other humans, die when traveling in the darkness or falling off of a height. These primordial fears are ingrained for a reason—they’ve happened enough to disturb us deeply.

Conversely, learning over time may sacrifice such instant gratification. Recognizing what is true by learning to thousands of new hip hop songs over time, I have learned that new hip hop uses a lot of addicting beats. I can curate my own, creative definition of hip hop because I have actually experienced enough to come to my own conclusions.

Then, with respect to “true” learning in such an empirical approach, is reading theory and about events that you have not experienced then just reading?

People often confuse learning with studying and reading, and we lie to ourselves all the time saying that we have learned something. Certainly, these may function as steps in the learning process or the lobby that leads us to the doors of knowledge. No matter how much I peruse my calculus textbooks, I’ll only be regurgitating language with no connotations or relevance to me without practicing the weekly problem sets or, with time, building a satellite that demands my knowledge of a normal vector. But, without using the normal vector and making the information relevant, I’ll only have a shallow understanding of what I have learned.

I don’t know what a quaternion is, but I can *relay* the definition to someone else that it is an array of four numbers that describes rotations in 3D space. They may know how to apply it, but I do not (yet). Language serves as the currency between communicating information whereas the value is determined by the holder. So, is rote memorization merely deceiving the brain into thinking that the information you read continuously is important?

Someone doesn’t exactly learn a book; he or she reads it and learns about its applications and parallels in the world. However, that is not to negate the purpose of reading about our world. When someone reads about an event in history, he or she now may recognize why our world is different and why it works the way that it does. The consequences of war assert themselves with certain security protocols, domestic borders, and certain fears like xenophobia.

Of course, a spectrum of knowledge surrounding a topic exists. The constant harmony between theory and practice will always exist. The carpenter certainly has a strong balance of theory and practice to know how to apply what he or she has read (turning the concepts into learned information). In many circles, learning is most accelerated when sufficient theory supports the most practice.

Through reflection, I see that I have only read many life lessons. I glorify them as if they are my own and practice them for the sake of proactiveness. Thus, with my life, I constrict around the shadow of a virtue—yet, when that virtue is tested, the mold that I have built around something intangible collapses. The igloo collapses in on itself.

From time to time, I only function as a relayer of information that can be done by someone else. My lessons will constantly be tested, and they will develop over time.

And, after reflecting on how what I have done conflicts with how I want to present myself, I should focus much more on what I do in the present moment than what I say about myself to preface it.

I do not know what I have truly learned other than the fact that I am human.