One feature of aging is supposed to be the acquisition of wisdom. I don’t mean wisdom in a pedantic sort of way. Wisdom is the manifestation what I’ve learned over the years along knowing what I don’t know and not pretending otherwise.
As Marcel Proust stated “We are not provided with wisdom; we must discover it for ourselves after a journey through the wilderness which no one else can take for us, an effort which no one can spare us.” That journey takes not days, not months but years. Like Moses, I’ve wandered for forty years (and then some), only now coming to the border of “the promised land”. Unlike Moses, who didn’t have the opportunity, I am grateful that I can bring myself into that “promised land” of old age where, with any luck (and effort), I can apply my wisdom – as meagre as it might be.
A key aspect of wisdom is knowing enough not to repeat the mistakes of the past. Truth be known, I’m not quite there yet! The older I get, I find myself spending a great deal of time reflecting on past successes and failures. As I run old movies in my head, I’m attempting to write the screenplay of my future. I struggle not to make it a sequel; but rather a unique and separate narrative with a happy ending.
Wisdom brings with it a strengthened sense of inner security; with less of a need to please others. While there is nothing inherently wrong with pleasing others, doing it for ulterior motives can lead one to be constantly on edge. This is my recollection of a bygone time in my life; although I think that at the time I was unaware of my motives. Admittedly, this latter statement may be an exercise in selective memory and denial. However, my point is that by looking in the rearview mirror, the ulterior motives have become clearer. This is quite liberating.
Liberty means being relieved of the pressure to justify my existence to others in this latter stage of life. I do feel the need to justify my behaviours and attitudes to myself. This comes back to my internally-derived sense of wisdom. The trick is not to evolve into a narcissist, giving the virtual finger to those who aren’t as “wise”, as I tended to do in my earlier years. (Albeit, I still have much work to do on this one).
Benjamin Franklin in his autobiography articulates what I’m sure most of us entering the eight stage of life are feeling when he says “…were it offer’d [sic] to my choice, I should have no objection to a repetition of the same life from its beginning, only asking [for] the advantage authors have in a second edition, to correct some of the first”. Well, knowing that we don’t have that chance shouldn’t stop us from applying our hard-earned insights to living a more meaningful and robust existence during the time we have left. Applying my wisdom in working on this renewed version of my old self is one of the imperatives of the eighth stage. But first I have to complete the work of the seventh stage – generativity. More on that in the next article.
As Marcel Proust stated “We are not provided with wisdom; we must discover it for ourselves after a journey through the wilderness which no one else can take for us, an effort which no one can spare us.” That journey takes not days, not months but years. Like Moses, I’ve wandered for forty years (and then some), only now coming to the border of “the promised land”. Unlike Moses, who didn’t have the opportunity, I am grateful that I can bring myself into that “promised land” of old age where, with any luck (and effort), I can apply my wisdom – as meagre as it might be.
A key aspect of wisdom is knowing enough not to repeat the mistakes of the past. Truth be known, I’m not quite there yet! The older I get, I find myself spending a great deal of time reflecting on past successes and failures. As I run old movies in my head, I’m attempting to write the screenplay of my future. I struggle not to make it a sequel; but rather a unique and separate narrative with a happy ending.
Wisdom brings with it a strengthened sense of inner security; with less of a need to please others. While there is nothing inherently wrong with pleasing others, doing it for ulterior motives can lead one to be constantly on edge. This is my recollection of a bygone time in my life; although I think that at the time I was unaware of my motives. Admittedly, this latter statement may be an exercise in selective memory and denial. However, my point is that by looking in the rearview mirror, the ulterior motives have become clearer. This is quite liberating.
Liberty means being relieved of the pressure to justify my existence to others in this latter stage of life. I do feel the need to justify my behaviours and attitudes to myself. This comes back to my internally-derived sense of wisdom. The trick is not to evolve into a narcissist, giving the virtual finger to those who aren’t as “wise”, as I tended to do in my earlier years. (Albeit, I still have much work to do on this one).
Benjamin Franklin in his autobiography articulates what I’m sure most of us entering the eight stage of life are feeling when he says “…were it offer’d [sic] to my choice, I should have no objection to a repetition of the same life from its beginning, only asking [for] the advantage authors have in a second edition, to correct some of the first”. Well, knowing that we don’t have that chance shouldn’t stop us from applying our hard-earned insights to living a more meaningful and robust existence during the time we have left. Applying my wisdom in working on this renewed version of my old self is one of the imperatives of the eighth stage. But first I have to complete the work of the seventh stage – generativity. More on that in the next article.