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Sometimes these annoying little word packets of profundity hang around generation after generation for a reasonable reason.
Because these adages, often addressed to All of Us, contain some truth inside.
Hindsight and all,
If I only knew then...
The egg comes before the chicken,
it's Murphy's Law.
Which gets amended, riders added as the years pass, but in principle safeguards the same, the blame game, or a random act of unkindness, mindless appropriation by Murphy, who could have easily been John Galt.
There's that business about wisdom coming with age, like accrued interest, growing as quietly as grey hairs and as invisible as social security. There is no security, or forwarding address.
Nobody gets wise checks they can cash in the mail.
Sometimes lucky people acquire wisdom by gratuitous donation only, so it's deductible (since you are often in a not-for-profit status).
Donate your time, it's a secure investment
in You.
Art is everywhere, never stop seeking it.
Circles will drive you nuts but you'll need the spiral-graph, starting and ending with infinite.
Synchronicity and serendipity, partners of a lifetime, will always know where to find you.
I wouldn't change a thread in those woven fibers of your being, the new me needs every single sinewy string, the patchwork of experience, worn soles, renewed souls...
Fear, love, anxiety, doubt, that feel like butterflies are the indicators of a chrysalis of change about to occur. Butterflies are better than worms.
It's okay to be scared.
You will always prefer being alone, so be a better friend to yourself.
You will get a higher education, you'll never stop nourishing your brain, many people that cannot understand you will claim you're insane, but they mean it nicely (I think).
You will read EVERY BOOK-
that you possibly can, and remember why you are here in the first place, like walking into a room to forget your purpose, you must retrace and try again.
You will have greater adventures in your non-fiction life.
You'll save these like squashed penny tokens from the boardwalk for a rainy day,
which always reminds you of home,
under any sky donning a grey coat.
Under starry skies before sunrise you'll telescopically find what you were looking for
is not up there, not out there, not outside of you.
You did not mis-step, there are no mis-takes, the picture is perfectly to your liking.
Errata will tempt you astray, but the road you're on doesn't go away, erosion control,
your foundations are solid. A sparkly glint, a yellow brick paved road will remind you of your own straightforward path.
Ever-ever land awaits.
Sometimes you will feel apprehension when you can't see around the corner, it's fine to fear
what lies ahead.
Problems with patience will persist, but practice perfects. You will exercise that muscle of Will, it will become the strongest part of you, you'll need it like a shield, you will persevere.
Survive and thrive. But I will be torturing you, as a practice, in the future,
I must in order to make it through the darkest parts. And worse, you will be my sacrifice, my token of forfeiture, giving is better than receiving, you get more. I will keep the pyre you started lit,
like a Virgil.
It's the journey that makes the warrior strong.
Stop tripping and keep going, one foot after another.
Don't worry so much about money, it isn't worth your time.
Letting go is the difference between flying and falling.
But you won't let go easily,
and realize all of what I have said is true for you, in a flash moment at nel mezzo del camin when you're about to die,
you realize you are right,
Write where you should be, as a shadow of self, a pale portrait, the nurse of nostalgia administers sweet injections of TLC,
for an impatient, fond but distant memory, of the old me,
curious about who I'll decide to be.
Image of wall of Senor Grubby's in Carlsbad, mural by Morley in conjunction with Synder Art Design.
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