Wisdom in Transit
What Lessons Have I Learned……
If I’m past mid-life… where exactly am I?
I’d like to think I’m cruising through the Wisdom Years—windows down, music up, sage advice in the glovebox. Isn’t that the next leg of the journey? Let me check the itinerary…
ge 45–50: Mid-life ✓
Age 51–60: Not quite ready for dying… Age of Wisdom – In Transit
Yep, I’m in the Age of Wisdom.
Which begs the question: what have I actually learned?
What wisdom have I gained from the trials and tribulations, the wrongs done to me—and by me? From everyday challenges, underlined book passages, quotes taped to mirrors, pithy sayings tacked onto outgoing emails, a few solid counseling sessions, and years of journaling? Plenty of opportunities. So… how wise am I?
Suddenly, my brain is flooded with all the lessons I’ve “learned.” Pearls of wisdom pop up so fast I can barely type before the next one elbows its way in. Fifty-eight years of life lessons. Hard-won, often expensive. Surely I’ve reached guru status—if I can just organize it all into something readable.
Feeling smug and satisfied, I shut my laptop. Wisdom chapter: launched.
Next morning, I’m up early. Feed Littles, grab his leash, and head out for our morning amble. We always go before 7:00 a.m. I’ve learned that if we wait, the neighborhood is crawling with other dogs. And our delightful, screwy little mutt feels it is his sacred duty to bark like a lunatic at every single one. Preferably the largest.
So we’re out early. Quiet streets. Cool air. No disturbances. Just me, Littles, and my glorious bank of hard-earned wisdom.
As we walk, I start reviewing what I wrote the night before: all the Lessons Learned.
And then—completely uninvited—a new thought shows up:
What lessons have I actually woven into my daily life?
Oh.
Well… if I frame it that way, the list shrinks. A lot. I mean a lot. Like, “fits in a single tweet” a lot.
So much for my chapter.
“You cannot teach a man anything. You can only help him find it within himself.”
—Galileo
Apparently… I’m still looking.
