#127 The wisdom shadow
Happy Sunday, everyone.
Prefer to listen to this week’s issue? Go here: The wisdom shadow
There’s a small stretch in eastern North Carolina called the “Crystal Coast” where I spent the first 20 years of my life. It’s still one of my favorite places on earth.
Like most places in the Temperate zone this time of year, however, it’s hot. Really hot. Fry an egg in the sand hot.
So naturally, I thought it would be a good idea a few days ago to spend 10-12 hours physically active in the sun.
No big deal. I thought.
By evening, I was sore and hurting — my body’s payback for working it beyond its set point. Making matters worse, my kids pulled on and wrestled with me, as kids do, oblivious to my ailing bones.
As I was sitting there trying not to move, I was reminded of my grandad, Tom. I remember being my son’s ages, watching my grandad come in from walking 18 holes, in his 80s, in 90+ degree weather. He’d somehow make it from his car to his chair but I could tell it was laborious. He’d sit there and tell me tales of WWII and growing up in Georgia. He’d share stories of success and failure, pain and loss. He’d ask me insightful questions when I’d seek advice.
I looked up to my grandad. He was a wise man. One of the wisest I’ve known. But he also carried pain. I could hear it in his stories and see it in his body, especially on days like the one I recalled the other night.
Pain and wisdom.
Becoming wise is painful. The older and wiser I get (most may debate you on the latter), the more pain I feel.
Does one exist without the other?
I’m not sure.
I like to think of pain as wisdom’s shadow. Shine a light on the wise and you’ll see the pain from lessons learned or mistakes made.
So I guess feeling it a little in my legs or my heart on occasion is part of the process.
One to Ponder
- If it entertains you now but will bore you someday, it’s a distraction. Keep looking. - Naval
One to Try
- I’m a sucker for weather apps. Here’s one that caught my eye recently: Weather Strip
One to Read
- This is horrifying and fascinating. There’s a movie option in here somewhere: Dad, 36, loses 20 years of memories after waking up and thinking it's the 1990s
One to Watch
- Inspiring and heartbreaking: The Donut King
Until next time, friends.