What Wisdom Is All About by Nicholas

          There will come a day when I won’t have the strength to lift my mountain bike up the six steps out of the basement to get out for a ride. My arms won’t lift it up to my shoulder, my legs will feel weak, my back ache. There may come a day when even the thought of riding will be too much.

          There will come a day when I might not be surrounded by the good books I’ve read and have yet to read.

          There will come a day when I say even an hour’s work in the garden is too much and let it go a little wild and a little overrun with weeds which I despise.

          There will come a day when I won’t be able to settle down to an evening of reading with a glass of Cointreau to warm my throat.

          There may come a day when I won’t climb the stairs up to bed and will sell the house for a smallish, one-floor condo to watch the world that I used to work in.

          There may come a day when I no longer will want to or be able to cook up a whole dinner in my beloved kitchen.

          I’m coming these days to focus on letting go instead of holding onto. If a massive hail storm shreds my lovely tomato plants, then, I told Jamie, I’m done with gardening in this almost impossible climate to work in. Some things, I just am not going to care so much about anymore.

At a point in my life when each birthday marks not one more year but one less, I have taken to de-accessioning, getting rid of stuff. Many people when they reach their upper years become hoarders and collectors of everything, not wanting to part with anything. Not me. I just took a stack of classical music cd’s to the Denver Public Library. Let other people hear this wonderful music. I have other versions or am just tired of it. I periodically prune my bookshelves to take advantage of Tattered Cover’s trade-in program and get a new book or two.

          Call it resignation and a sense of limitations, but I want to cut back and cut down, give away and throw away. I want less. Less stuff, that is.

I also want more—more good times with friends, more enjoyment, more fun, more commitment, more energy. Resignation and acceptance doesn’t mean inactivity or laziness or carelessness.

There’s a prayer that goes something like this:  Lord, help me let go of the things I need to let go of and accept the things I need to accept and help me keep doing the things I need to do and then let me know the difference between the two.

          That, it seems to me, is what wisdom is about.         

© May 2014  

About the Author  

Nicholas grew up in Cleveland, then grew up in San Francisco, and is now growing up in Denver. He retired from work with non-profits in 2009 and now bicycles, gardens, cooks, does yoga, writes stories, and loves to go out for coffee.