Wisdom?

Hollywood Cemetery

The days are shorter and sitting on the porch I think to myself the sun is more bashful. In fact, it’s pitch black. My electric lantern is glowing softly; in its light I see I’m guarded by my cat, Mr Beans, who is sitting like a gargoyle on a French cathedral. This time of day (night?) my mind wanders and randomly stops on a word or an event or a person or something inspiring me to jot down some notes, today’s word is “wisdom.” I should go to Webster’s Dictionary but it’s still dark and I don’t want to break the mood with a bright screen. Yep, these posts almost always start on paper. Imagine if you will, me hunched over my notebook with a lantern and a cat monitoring the words flowing out of the business end of my ballpoint pen. I digress.

Wisdom. I’ve heard and read stories of Older Folks, like me, imparting wisdom to the Youngers. I’m not sure that’s a thing anymore. In truth, I’m not sure what wisdom really is. Telling a child not to touch a hot stove? No, that’s not wisdom, that’s common sense.

I paused my writing. The clouds had parted and the dark pink sky highlighted a very bright Venus, the Morning Star. I turned off my lantern to enjoy the planet’s light. The sun eventually consumed Venus’s shine and I came back to earth. Back to…

Wisdom. I close my eyes and see youth sitting next to elders. The elders speak words of knowledge, experience, and intuition; intersections of story, time, observation, and emotion. I wonder if our culture is no longer concerned with the wisdom of past generations. I don’t think we have a deep conversation or connection with the land, the people around us, or a common way of life. Is that a bad thing? Well, we have to work for a living. We don’t have to care about the earth or each other. Like the apocalyptical saying, “It is what it is.” Easy, peasy.

Perhaps our culture equates wisdom with wealth. Hmmm, well, sort of makes sense. Sycophants all sitting at the feet of a patriarch (no women allowed, of course) hoping for bits of wisdom. Property and money oozing through our legal system from generation to generation growing and shrinking on the wisdom of the holders. What a cynic I must be. That certainly can’t be our way of life. Right?

I look up, still no full sun but the sky is bright. I can’t see Venus anymore. And no one for me to tell about her.

Mr. Beans guarding me from hummingbird attacks