wisdom

An Alternative to Pooled Ignorance

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what is wisdom?

There’s an old(er) guy at the coffee shop with whom I often indulge in solve-the-world’s-problems bull sessions.

He knows a lot about a lot of things, but as with any far-ranging morning chat with the boys, topics always come up that some or all of us know nothing about.

Most of us just bluff and offer our comments based on something we think we mighta heard somewhere.

The old guy often says “I really don’t know” and sits silently while we keep spouting off and pooling our ignorance.

But when he speaks, we all listen.

I consider him one of the wisest people I know.

Photo by Andre Benz on Unsplash

Mortality Part 4 and Final I Hope

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Kevin Dumas, Daren Wride, 1981, La Classique
Kevin Dumas and I, running a portage at La Classique, 1981

This series of “mortality” posts was already in the planning stages when the following happened over the span of several months:

1. A friend of 30 years, just a few years my senior, committed suicide.

2. A former co-worker and neighbor, just a few years my junior, didn’t wake up one morning.

3. A friend of 36 years, almost exactly my age, died at work.

OK, I get it.

Life is short and precarious.

May all my other friends live well beyond their statistical life expectancy.

Amen.

Clarity and Control

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Clarity and ControlThe desire for clarity is the desire for control.

At least for me.

And the clarity/control I crave most is for outcomes: I want to control what happens.

Which is a recipe for frustration.

Because the world is too complex and change is too rapid for any of us to control the outcomes.

But I’ve discovered a loophole for control freaks like me…and you.

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Mortality Part 3

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Dave JohnsonJuly 2007.

My friend Dave had a nagging injury in his arm that didn’t seem to heal. His doctor grew suspicious and he was quickly diagnosed with ALS, Lou Gehrig’s Disease.

The average life expectancy from time of diagnosis is two years.

Dave made it almost three and a half.

The fact that Dave was a wonderful, great man, a friend of many, made his passing hard.

But what made it even more intense for me personally was the fact that Dave and I were the same age. His son was the same age as, and friends with, my son. His daughter the same age as, and friends with, my daughter.

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