Mental Perfume
‘The art of being wise is the art of knowing what to overlook.’
~ William James
I have always been fascinated by people who seem to be wise. Like Solomon, if God were to grant me just one gift, I too would ask for wisdom. If one were wise at an early age, life would be a cinch. Think about it, you would be sensible enough to not make any detrimental financial mistakes or investments, you’d have enough of a clue to marry the right person the first time, and your kids would be ideal since the perfect ratio of love and discipline would have already been figured out.
My grandmother is wise. She’s a bit odd, but wise nonetheless. How did she become wise you might ask? She married twice, cheated once, divorced the love of her life because he didn’t make enough money, only to have him go on and make millions, walked out on one of her kids, walked back in and became his friend, got the first of three tattoos at age 75, spent thousands of dollars hopelessly playing lotto, but ended up winning the jackpot at age 82 – a week after she paid off her mobile home. Sure the woman’s wise, but at what expense? It’s been a hell of a ride. This presents the question – can one become wise without the distress of life experiences?
Personally, I’m not one of these people that is fond of a lot of pain or inconvenience. I enjoy working out, but I’m not into passing out. I take pleasure in a nicely roasted turkey on Thanksgiving Day, but when the bird takes more nursing than a young infant, forget it, just pass the Honeybaked ham. But in the world of wisdom, it appears that no pain equals no gain. Seems like the only way to acquire some level of good judgment is to have really bad judgment first, generally numerous times over.
I used to have a friend that was a doctor. She was beautiful, smart and successful. Luckily I was a little thinner than she was otherwise I fear we would not have been friends. Anyway, one afternoon over coffee, she mentioned that anyone who wasn’t married by the age of 30 had issues. I wasn’t yet 30, and I had a boyfriend, but we didn’t have any plans to marry in the near future. Was I approaching loser-hood and didn’t even know it? Was she so wise that she had the inside track on social norms and I was just this brain-dead peon on my way to idiotville? I suddenly felt like one of those people who dresses poorly and doesn’t know it. Wait a minute, she’s 33. I quickly pointed this out. She shrugged and told me she had issues. ‘I’m compulsive, competitive, I don’t sleep, I swear, and I’m smarter and make more money than most people I know.’ Ok, we both knew she made way more money, but did she just tell me she was smarter than me? I went to an Ivy League college for crying out loud! It’s not like she can perform brain surgery! Hold on a sec, yes she can. This woman saves lives for a living. Clearly, she must be wise.
Ironically, as jobs came and went, and I moved to a new city, I met a wonderful man and got married – before I was 30. When I wed, I thought about what my friend had said years before, and secretly congratulated myself for making the cut-off. I had escaped being pathetic. However, being married turned out to be no slice of cake. In fact, it turned out to be hard – really hard. It took me a while to figure out that although my friend could cut people’s heads open and poke around with the best of them, the woman was not wise. Nobody, and I mean NOBODY, has any business getting married before the age of 30 – including me. Quite simply, the art of overlooking has not yet been cultivated.
Early on in my marriage, I asked my sister for advice. How could I love my husband so much, yet want to punch him in the head so often? I didn’t want to leave, and I didn’t want a divorce, I just wanted it to be easy. She spoke to me with the knowing, confident voice of an old Indian chief in a western movie. I imagined smoke shrouding her face as we conversed. She told me to relax and pick my battles. She said you have to give a marriage at least 3 years before you even think about throwing in the towel. Hell, she didn’t even start liking her husband until this past year, and she’s been with him for over a decade.
So there you have it. My kid sister, who I was certain didn’t know much of anything, except how to yell and swear at her spouse, turns out to be wise. And how did she do it? The hard way, of course.
