Of all the compliments, I would think "teacher" is the highest.

That's what I strive to be. I try to teach coworkers. I try to mentor new hires. I try to be available to teach my friends, and to be taught in turn.

Teaching is, in its own way, an act of learning. The best teachers are not those who boom thunder from a cloud on high. The best teachers are the ones who lower themselves to the same level as their charges, or perhaps even lower.

See, to learn is to put oneself at disadvantage. To learn from another is to trust. To acknowledge someone as teacher is to subordinate oneself, to put some portion of self in their care, in their thrall.

Unless there is some strong rapport of trust, the student will rebel. Perhaps subconsciously, unaware of the recoil from power dynamics. Perhaps instinctively, back from hindbrain of fight-or-flight. Perhaps conscious rebellion, some alpha-dog struggle for dominance. Perhaps, however unlikely, even with some conscious recognition of the power dynamics involved in the relation.

Better for the teacher to subordinate self instead, doing so from a position of strength and self-assurance. This is a paradox of strength, not just of teaching. The strongest man is not the man who throws the first punch, but the one who can let the opponent expend energies throwing punches, landing them without avail on his body.

So the same with the teacher, to be able to use humour and self-efface, putting the student off-guard and in a more open mindset.

That's another aspect to teaching. Teaching can be trickery. I taught a friend math, algebra. However, instead of simply teaching rote and pattern, I tried to teach logical thought. Not just what and how, but why.

See? Trickery. I could have simply taught how to get to the answer. "You take this number, then do that to it. Never mind why it works. You want to get the answer or don't you?" That's actually what the question required: an answer, not necessarily understanding.

Trickery can work for other forms of teaching. Stories can be subversive. Subversion is another form of teaching for good or ill. Fiction, be it static like a book or movie, or intractive like a video game or roleplaying session, can teach.

Which actually brings me back to my original intent. To work in yesterday's thought, I've a finite time to teach. When you think about it, my every waking moment is an opportunity to teach, if passively. My chosen avocation is writing (among others) which is another opportunity to teach.

Writing can be teaching, but it needn't be. Sometimes, it is simply mind candy, empty calories. Filling, entertaining, but not nourishing. Fine! We've a need, yes need, for downtime. As authors, as readers, we've a need to set our mind in neutral and just enjoy something light and fluffy.

However, to quote a comic book "with great power comes great responsibility." So it is with us. We hold the back door to many a mind with our words. With a subtle brushstroke, we can tease into someone's subconscious an idea that they may resist otherwise. We can point out a social inequality, or nudge the pendulum of public opinion back from the brink of madness.

We can enlighten, shape and introduce. We can serve as midwives to a new enlightenment, or harbingers of the next apocalypse. Even when we're writing our fluffiest, we can still sneak in a solid message, one that may influence another writer's writing (however fluffy.) This is how fires start -- with sparks, not necessarily explosions.

After all, with great power comes great responsibility.