I'm trying to get through life without really knowing about

The words of Peter Graves echo like a sigh carried upon the winds of time: “I’m trying to get through life without really knowing about computers, but I don’t know if I am going to make it.” In this utterance lies not mere humor, but the quiet tremor of a man standing between two worlds—the world of the old, where wisdom was written in memory and touch, and the world of the new, where knowledge flows through circuits and screens. It is the lament of the soul as it meets the march of progress, unsure whether it can keep pace with the relentless rhythm of invention.

In ages past, the wise knew that change was the only constant. The plow replaced the hand, the quill replaced the chisel, and now the computer replaces both. Yet each birth of innovation has brought with it both light and shadow. The farmer once feared the iron plow as an unnatural tool; the scribe once scorned the printing press for spreading words too freely. So too does Peter Graves, in his words, speak for those who stand uncertain before the glowing light of technology—awed by its power, yet alien to its language. His struggle is not of ignorance, but of yearning to remain human amidst machines.

Think of Socrates, the great philosopher of Athens, who never wrote down his teachings. When his disciples urged him to record his wisdom, he refused, believing that the written word would weaken the mind’s memory. He feared that men, relying on ink and parchment, would cease to think deeply. In his way, he was much like Graves—resisting the new out of love for the old. Yet time proved that writing did not destroy wisdom; it expanded it. The pen did not end thought—it preserved it. And so, too, the computer, though strange and cold, is not our enemy but our next vessel of understanding.

Still, there is pain in this transformation. For every age demands that its people learn anew how to live. The elder who once commanded his tools now feels humbled before the silent machine. The artist who once held a brush must now learn to draw with light and pixels. The scholar who once walked the halls of libraries now wanders through endless data. Graves’ confession—his “not knowing if he will make it”—is the cry of the heart that fears obsolescence, the universal dread that one day the world will move too fast for the soul to follow.

But take heart, for such fear is not defeat. To confess one’s struggle with technology is to acknowledge the weight of growth. The ancients taught that every step toward mastery begins in uncertainty. The blacksmith burned himself before he forged his first blade; the sailor trembled before he conquered the sea. So too must we stumble through the strange landscapes of the digital age before we can walk its golden paths with confidence. To resist all change is to become stone; to embrace it blindly is to lose oneself. The true path, as always, lies in balance.

The lesson, then, is this: do not flee from knowledge, but do not surrender your soul to it. Let the computer be your servant, not your master. Learn enough to wield its power with wisdom, but not so much that your heart grows cold like its circuits. When you sit before the screen, remember that beyond its light there still exists the warmth of the earth, the voices of those you love, the laughter of real conversation. Technology is a tool—never a substitute for the living world.

Therefore, to all who hear these words: do not despair if you find the modern age bewildering. The wise are not those who know every secret of the machine, but those who walk with curiosity and courage through the unknown. Learn, adapt, but never forget to feel. Use your tools, but keep your hands strong; use your mind, but keep your heart awake. For though the world may rush forward faster than the wind, the soul that learns with humility will always find its way.

And so, in the end, Peter Graves’ uncertainty becomes our calling. The question “Will I make it?” is the very essence of being human. To strive despite fear, to learn despite confusion, to reach for light in the age of glass and code—that is the eternal struggle of mankind. And if we walk that road with open eyes and patient hearts, then yes, we will make it.