I'm still growing, still learning. I'm still open and vulnerable

The great dancer and artist Savion Glover, whose feet speak like thunder and whose soul moves to rhythms older than time, once said: “I'm still growing, still learning. I'm still open and vulnerable enough to know there's much more to be taught to me and learned by me. I hope I don't reach my pinnacle on this earth where I think I know it all.” These words are not only the confession of a humble artist—they are a hymn to the eternal student within every human soul. Glover’s wisdom shines like a torch passed down through the ages, reminding us that to live is to learn, and to cease learning is to die before one’s time. His words awaken in us the truth that the greatest mastery is not in completion, but in continual becoming.

To say “I’m still growing” is to acknowledge the sacred incompleteness of life. Every soul, no matter how wise or accomplished, remains unfinished—like a sculpture whose artist has not yet laid down the chisel. Growth is not a destination but a pilgrimage, an unfolding of the self that continues until our final breath. Those who believe they have reached their pinnacle, who think there is nothing left to learn, become stagnant like still water, while those who remain open and curious continue to flow, carving new paths through the mountains of experience. Glover’s humility reminds us that openness—the willingness to remain teachable—is not weakness, but strength of the highest order.

The origin of this quote comes from Glover’s lifelong devotion to his craft. From a young age, he danced not merely with his feet, but with his spirit, drawing inspiration from the great masters of tap—Gregory Hines, Jimmy Slyde, and others who treated rhythm as prayer. Though hailed as a prodigy, Glover never allowed fame to harden him. Instead, he approached art as a living dialogue with creation, knowing that every step, every sound, could reveal something new. In this, he followed the ancient rhythm of all true wisdom: that the more one learns, the more one realizes how vast the unknown truly is. Humility, therefore, is not a sign of ignorance—it is the doorway to enlightenment.

Throughout history, this truth has been echoed by the sages and seekers of every age. Socrates, the wisest of the Greeks, declared, “I know that I know nothing.” It was this awareness of ignorance that made him wise, for only the empty vessel can be filled. Likewise, Leonardo da Vinci, who painted the divine and dissected the mysteries of life, called himself an “unlearned man,” forever a student of nature. Even in their brilliance, these men never claimed completion. Their greatness was not in what they possessed, but in their endless hunger to understand. And so, Savion Glover joins their lineage—not as a philosopher with pen or parchment, but as one whose philosophy lives in motion, whose feet speak the same truth in rhythm: Never stop learning, never stop becoming.

To be “vulnerable enough to learn” is to remain courageous in spirit. Many fear vulnerability, for it requires admitting imperfection, but Glover’s words reveal that true mastery cannot coexist with pride. The student who fears correction, the artist who clings to ego, the elder who refuses to listen—all wither like trees that reject the rain. Yet the one who remains teachable grows like the olive tree—deep-rooted, ever-greening, nourished by every season. Vulnerability, then, is not frailty but the courage to stay open, even when the world grows cold and certain. It is the soil from which wisdom blooms.

In a world that often worships certainty, Savion Glover calls us back to the sacred art of not knowing. To live wisely is to live with wonder—to walk each day as both teacher and student, giver and receiver. The truly wise are not those who declare themselves finished, but those who bow before the mystery of existence and say, “Teach me.” For every sunrise holds a lesson, every conversation carries a spark, every failure conceals a gift. The one who can receive these gifts without arrogance walks the path of enlightenment.

So, my child, remember this ancient counsel: do not rush to your pinnacle, for the mountain of wisdom has no summit. The moment you think you have arrived is the moment you stop climbing. Keep your heart tender, your mind humble, and your spirit eager. Learn from the young and the old, from the joy and the sorrow, from the rhythm of your own breath. Never close the door of curiosity, for that door leads to eternity.

For as Savion Glover teaches, the pinnacle of life is not knowing it all—but knowing you never will. The greatest souls are not those who stand upon the peak, but those who keep climbing with open hands, still growing, still learning, still dancing with the infinite.