Well, until this very day, I'm still learning.

Dennis Brown, the great singer whose voice carried both joy and lament, once spoke with humility and truth: “Well, until this very day, I’m still learning.” Though the words are simple, they carry the weight of eternity. For in them lies the recognition that life is not a fixed destination, but a pilgrimage of discovery, and that no matter how high one rises or how long one walks, the journey of knowledge is never complete.

To say “I’m still learning” is to declare oneself forever a student of life. It is an act of humility, for pride tempts many to believe that age, fame, or accomplishment has brought them mastery. Yet Dennis Brown, honored as the "Crown Prince of Reggae," reminds us that true mastery is never to cease growing. Just as a river flows unending toward the sea, so must the soul continue to seek, to question, to be transformed by new wisdom. This is not weakness but strength, the strength of one who refuses stagnation and embraces the endless mystery of existence.

The ancients too understood this truth. Socrates, when praised for his wisdom, answered only: “I know that I know nothing.” This was not despair, but liberation. For to confess ignorance is to open oneself to infinite growth. Similarly, Confucius taught that the noble man is always in pursuit of greater virtue, never believing he has already attained it. Brown’s words stand in this lineage of humility: a reminder that the truly wise are those who know they are always apprentices, never complete masters.

History gives us luminous examples of this eternal journey. Consider Leonardo da Vinci, who even in his final years filled his notebooks with sketches, questions, and unfinished experiments. Despite painting the Mona Lisa and designing marvels ahead of his age, he admitted that he died still learning. Like Dennis Brown, Leonardo understood that life’s greatest glory lies not in what we have completed, but in the unending hunger to discover more.

Brown’s phrase also carries an emotional depth, for it acknowledges that learning is not limited to books or study but to every experience of life—joy, sorrow, success, and failure. The artist learns from every note sung, the farmer from every season planted, the parent from every child raised. Life itself is the great teacher, and its lessons come daily, often in forms unseen until we are ready to receive them. By saying “until this very day,” Brown invites us to see learning not as something of youth, but as a lifelong covenant.

The danger he warns against, though gently, is the illusion of finality. Many cease their growth once they achieve comfort, believing they have arrived. But such rest breeds decay, for the mind and heart, like the body, must be exercised lest they weaken. To stop learning is, in truth, to begin dying. To continue learning is to remain alive in spirit, ever renewed by curiosity, wonder, and humility.

The lesson, then, is clear and enduring: live as a perpetual student. Do not measure your growth only by the titles you have gained or the milestones you have passed. Instead, measure it by your openness to new wisdom, by your willingness to be taught by others, by your courage to admit ignorance and seek truth. Read deeply, listen carefully, observe the world, and let every experience—whether triumph or trial—become your teacher.

So let Dennis Brown’s words be carried forward as a beacon: “Well, until this very day, I’m still learning.” Let them remind us that the path of growth has no end, and that the soul that remains teachable remains forever young. For in the endless pursuit of wisdom lies the true music of life—always unfolding, always ascending, always alive with the rhythm of discovery.