Is older wiser?
I remember the occasion when it first happened, in my late fifties. I was at a conference where I presented to the general assembly. After several days, I had racked up compliments about being "wise", and was avidly sought for advice during our limited free time.
I thought, Why me?
Then I remembered the friend who said that, as one of the senior persons in her profession, she kept hearing that "wise" compliment. She said, "I used to be called 'smart', and now I've been upgraded to 'wise', which really means 'old... but still useful'." "Wise" she said, could also be a synonym for having emotional intelligence, an accolade she liked.
Thanks be for her reflection. I'll spend my One Thing I Know for Sure token right now: Age does not necessarily confer that estimable quality. You might accrue wisdom as you move through life, but you might also end up in a philosophical equivalent of Costco the week before Christmas, overwhelmed by choice, unable to find coherence, let alone wisdom.
Wisdom is experience ennobled by moral discernment. Intelligence is a contributing factor, but so is the channel through which wisdom is transmitted. Toni Morrison was often called wise; Fran Liebowitz is trenchant, but not wise. (And these two were great friends.)
Lately, I listen to podcasts while walking. I began with true crime, perhaps to remind myself that worse things can happen. When I realized serial killers are depressing and boring, I moved to more edifying material: the BBC's Reith Lectures Series, The London Review of Books interviews, and as lighter fare, "Dear Sugars", the personal-advice series hosted by Cheryl Strayed and Steve Almond.
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| Steve Almond and Cheryl Strayed |
Strayed supplied the requested counsel; Almond added illuminating literature selections, a proxy wisdom. In the best episodes, Strayed embodied Aristotle's concept of "practical wisdom" (phronesis), a moral dimension beyond advice and empathy (though those are abundant too.)
Why did being called wise make me squirm? "Uneasy lies the head that wears the crown", Shakespeare warned in "Henry IV". First, I sensed that the label was attached to my age, like being called "distinguished"; second, it seemed to require that I display other virtues, such as moderation. I wanted to enjoy the conference's raucous parties, singing off-key with real power (one of my hidden talents), while chugging cheap wine and cardboardy potato chips like everyone else.
After a dissonant contribution to "Guantanamara", I fled to my room where I read for awhile while depleting a stash of peanut butter-cracker packets, and discovered that the word derives from the Proto-Indo-Europeaan root weid-, which means "to see"—not "to think" or "to speak".
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I thought of Barbara Jean, a woman I'd met at another conference. She spoke of trees, of how her relationship with trees had rescued her from bottomless grief over the loss of a child. Twenty years before "The Hidden Life of Trees" by Peter Wohlleben became a best-seller, she told us about the alliance among trees, and their part in a network of communication with other life forms.
If wisdom's root is seeing, I could relax into just that, seeing, sensing— sagacious contributions not required. And then I might speak, should the occasion arise, and let people make of it what they would.
What is wisdom to you? Are you wise?
Comments
I also fear that there is more than a touch of ageism in the current use of “wise” as a way of labeling and also constraining older people. If all older people are “wise”, how do we know when we are following a fool?
I would say I have gained in experience and understand a few things now but I'll never attain wisdom, my mind is not sufficiently reflective. Wisdom to me is knowing and accepting yourself and your world with generosity. It's a light to guide others on their way through life. Looking for wisdom is tricky, so much depends on our stage of life and circumstances. I've found some wisdom in this blog.
BTW a podcast recommendation - BBC In Our Time - excellent.
My daughter often calls me wise because my husband and I raised her and her older brother to be smart, resilient, and highly-regarded employees. I am not convinced that I was wise but that I listened to the wisdom of others and took to heart the (good) advice that was offered.
My highly political comment is, I am dumbstruck by how much wisdom is now lacking in both our politicians and the citizens who complain & protest about mask-wearing, perhaps due to the dearth of science education in the US. That being said, Vermont's governor and Cabinet has done an amazing job of keeping Covid numbers low. As my daughter said back in April/June, "He may not have been the governor we wanted but he was the governor we needed." Words of wisdom, perhaps? Carol in VT
Words drift in and out of use...wise, like crone, many years ago, can be a way of labeling because others are unsure, unable or not interested enough in finding out what’s going on with an older woman. Age only equals experiences...useful if only one internally processes them and can wring a useful truth. Sadly, those truths are things you already knew or suspected! A wise (read older) woman may pronounce like the Delphic Sybil and also sing Karaoke, feel like she’s 22 inside and 85 outside, knowingly drink that extra cocktail in front of the fire risking an 18 year old hangover the next morning. We are complex creatures and I feel that I’m still figuring things out myself.
A fantastic turn of phrase. Well done!
I don't think wisdom is, necessarily, a quality that someone has across the board. We may be wise in some areas, but not in others. Or on some occasions, but not on others.
Using the term 'wise' for women has often also seemed to imply some degree of occult (as in hidden) knowledge and/or skill (we think of the French term for midwife being sage-femme, and the old German term was weise frau). I don't think we ever attach that quality to the term 'wise man', which is interesting.
I remember a junior member of my team asking whether they could discuss something with me that was troubling them. I agreed, of course, and then sat patiently while they explained their dilemma. I continued to sit patiently (nodding and making encouraging noises) as they worked their way through the possible things they might do to resolve this dilemma, and the potential consequences of each. Eventually, they arrived by themselves at a sensible course of action. This seemed to provide them with great relief and, as they left the room, they thanked me for my "wise counsel". I had actually said nothing - which, I suppose, was the wise thing to do!
Jane in London
As your readers share their comments, I learn so many things about life and I am so grateful!
Good health, joy, and happiness to you all!
I'd never t thought of listening as an element of wisdom, and the observation that one can be wise in one aspect of life and not in others rings true fir me. Each comment here is a gift.
The more he saw, the less he spoke
The less he spoke, the more he heard,
Now, wasn't he a wise old bird?
Old English nursery rhyme from late 1800s, modified in 1930. Wikipedia.
I heard this quoted recently on Upstairs, Downstairs, the original one.
Your post brought this to mind.