What price wisdom?

I am aging in measurable and accelerated ways. I have more lines and rivulets on my face and décolletage; more brown spots almost everywhere; and thinner, grayer hair. Even with glasses I no longer see well.

My spirit has gone gray, too. When I was younger, I believed it was my responsibility, if not my destiny, to endure burden and suffering wherever I might find it, and, to that end, I invited all manner of person and experience into my life. Nothing has aged me more profoundly, though, than the betrayals I have experienced over my years. Had I known from the very start that they would accrete and eventually hobble, perhaps I would have been more careful about the people I allowed to walk through my front door.

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4 comments

  1. Beautifully written post with such a perfectly fitting title. What price does wisdom come at? Well, age inevitably, as a byproduct of having more experiences. I venture to say that spreading wisdom can help to revitalize yourself. And each suffering and betrayal is a lesson learned, even with the pain, that lesson is profound. Maybe there might have been less people, but does that not mean less wisdom? Just a thought.

    Adieu, scribbler

    1. Thank you so much. I rarely get any comments from readers, much less such kind and thoughtful ones. I enjoyed reading your blog, also, and especially like the Adventures of Fleur Clementine.

      1. Thank you so much! I find that people offer “likes” more than they do kind words (thank you so much for yours), but I prefer to let people know exactly what I thought of their post.

        I am planning to post part 2 of Fleur’s second adventure soon if you would like to read it.

        Adieu, scribbler

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