Wisdom.

What is wisdom? Things we learn and learn from? Our abilities to produce something whilst using our prior knowhow and experience? A guided version of common sense founded on our insights to life?

Unbiased judgement may play a part in keeping us grounded. Non-attachment isn’t easy. We connect. Sometimes, we connect more with someone or less with someone else. Or, the same person. At different times, too. I was here. I’m still here. We’re still here. Not every pathway is clear or easy. Not at all. We just have to find the right way. Changing the world isn’t easy, and arguably, you can change the world. However, you can change yourself. And nappies. Or not.

Drawing from our compassion, we should treasure every moment and focus all our energy on each and every brand new, bright tomorrow. The time we have makes us question, probe, redress, and counter our passing days, amongst other things. We make mistakes. We have to learn and relearn and adapt to survive and be the best we can be. Life is short. Enjoy it. No matter the challenge.

Having the capacity to know what contributes to growth and relate our conduct to our soundness of judgment should be simple. Choices are made. The means and ends of which can be practical, controversial, right, and / or wrong. Our experiential self-knowledge leads to self-transcendence. In theory, anyway. Give or take.

Virtues such as ethics and benevolence grow from who we surround ourselves with. Immerse ourselves with good friends and great family, and hope grows. Stand alone, and fear surrounds you. The doubts of self kick dust in your face. Regrets can cuddle you closely and strangle hope from your soul. But, with love and suitable familiar faces, we can dig in deep and accept hands to lift us up.

Doing what we do is important. Doing what we enjoy is us. There’s only one way of life, and that’s your own. We can also live that mantra, sang by The Levellers, by bringing in the ways of others. For every listener of The Hu, there’s a pebble painting pretty-eyed girl. It takes all sorts. For every dog called Panda, we need a dog called Sasha. Each unique character shaping our world and impacting us in their own little ways.

As for the future. Life goes on. We adapt. We face challenges. We survive. We try to fix our past. We grow new trees. A society grows stronger, in which an elderly gentleman plants trees knowing the shade of the trees will never be enjoyed by himself. We could look at clouds as something that blots away the sun or a canvas to be shaped and painted. Artists need treasuring.

So, is wisdom the right use of knowledge to tackle challenges and present a simpler setting. Our psychological construct allows us to foresee consequences. Be strong. Be pleasant to your friends. Apologise. Be honest or as close to it as possible. Never try to hurt anyone. Push away those who lessen your world. Keep good company. Build a strong foundation. Hug more.

Storm in a Teacup

Don’t conceal it. Don’t hide it. Don’t fear it. Don’t fight it. Just put your head down and right it.

Don’t give in. Never surrender the win. Block out that enormous din. Just get yourself up and head for the win.

Don’t shatter your dreams. Avoid tearing at the seams. Watch out for low beams. Just look for the place with good teams.

Don’t slide about. Don’t scream and shout. Don’t ever make yourself doubt. Just let it all out.

If not, what have you got? Your thing, your place, your lot. You’re more, are you or not? You’re here on this pale blue dot.

Now go get it yourself! Trust in your health. There’s more to life than wealth. Put doubt firmly on the shelf.

Doubt.

Cutting into me, it twists like a knife. Confidence hasn’t been in my hand for too long. This companionship I hold drains me. An awful lonely feeling of dread and dreams that have disappeared.

Will I be disappointed? Will it all go wrong? What should I do now? WHAT SHOULD I DO? My soul screams at me. Echoes ping around my head like a thousand pinballs on a pinball board. Each ball finds a hole but no points join the scoreboard.

Silence hasn’t visited me in weeks. I’m trying. Oh, how I’m trying! Trying and crying. Solace? Where are you? I’m sensitive to you but you haven’t called for me in so long. Remember peace? I don’t recall it’s calm. My millpond is full of rippling waves. A cask of broken rocks plummets here and there. A plethora of circles expand ever outwards. This is my universe’s big bang.

A street that has no name is where my feet fall. I’m lost. I’m a shadow without a being. Am I a ghost without life? I want you to understand that I’m not looking for sympathy. You’ll forget me, as soon as you look at me. My skin is supposed to be thicker but every whisperer who whispers makes me want to shrivel away into nothingness. I’m not really here.

Religion and words won’t relate to me. Poems and stories won’t leap from the page. Songs won’t pull me together. I’m sure that I’ll see you again. Whatever you are. Whoever you were. We’re far apart. We’re not really here. Like the face of an invisible man. We’re not really here. We’re not. We are not. We’re not really here.

Oh doubt, you cut through me like fear. You tear me apart. You give me indecision. I’m in Dante’s inferno dancing without feet. My eyes are red-raw bleeding tears of sorrow and my lips are dry. Where did it all go wrong? Sometimes, no, all the time, I wonder why. Why does my soul wander? Why does it choose to wander hand-in-hand, side-by-side with you, doubt?