wisdom

Wisdom seems to be the happy by-product of aging that aids in navigating the foibles of life. When wondering which way to navigate through the rough spots, Wisdom isn’t a map, but it helps you to remember where the pot holes were before, and so, where to look for them while stepping gingerly through the fray. Treading lightly, learning to pick your battles and the virtues of listening over talking also rate on wisdom learned, essential for the evolution from a brash, destructive young woman, to one who looks more closely, thinks more thoroughly and sees more clearly the possibilities for both failure and success.

But gaining wisdom is not without pain and loss. The pain of learning your lesson (as your momma would say) is softened by the possibility you may only have to learn it once. However, the loss of naiveté, is something I mourn daily. Remembering a time when the thought of letting someone really know me didn’t seem to be like touching a stovetop without knowing if it had just been on or not, makes me nostalgic for a pure innocence that wisdom negates.

This year I’ve become wise to the long-held belief that there are fixer uppers out there. There may be, but the only way they can be ‘fixed’ is if they want to, and perhaps, their perception differs from yours in the opinion that they are broken. If you’re faced with habitual behaviour that isn’t something you want to live with, better to move on, before you become tired of asking yourself ‘when he’s gonna change?’