I spent last week surfing with dear friends in a remote spot, detached from tech and news, except for the careful eye we kept on the hurricane slow-walking its way towards us all week. Such a strange disconnect, to be joyous in a peaceful place, knowing violent weather is headed your way. There is surely an allegory in there somewhere. We chose to cut the trip short by a day, and I wonder how our younger selves may have played it differently.
Pattern recognition is one of the wisdom powers we can develop with time when we both gather and reflect upon our experiences. It’s the sister to discernment, who shows up and keeps me from believing all that’s promised by the meno-marketers. And it is discretion that helped us decide that running from a hurricane may be the better part of valor. Would our 18-year-old selves bang our chests and welcome the waves, screaming into the wind? Perhaps. It’s good to be young and dumb – for all the reasons. And it’s good to be a grown-ass woman, too.