Harvesting your own wisdom in 2020

Too many of the new journals I begin on the first day of the year start in the same way with much the same resolutions. With more than half a century behind me and some significant challenges that have forced me to grow into someone who could meet them, I am trying to start this new decade differently.

Not long ago, Dr. Donald Adams, a retired psychologist who has become a friend, introduced to me the concept of harvesting one’s wisdom. And while I think we all do—once we reach a certain age—attempt to use our hard-earned wisdom in whatever challenging circumstances arise, we are also human and the ways we live and respond to life are hard-programmed into our brains and bodies. The ruts we’ve dug between stimulus and response are deep; however, they are still malleable.

Just a few days ago, while the third of my three teenagers pulled onto I-85 in our unwieldy minivan, 10 hours into the 60 hours of behind-the-wheel time needed to get her driver’s license, I unconsciously put my feet on the dashboard when she pulled up too close to the 18-wheeler in front of us.

“Stop doing that!” she implored.

How does one harvest one’s wisdom in situations that feel life or death (or sometimes are truly life or death)?

The truth of the matter is that the methods are different for each of us. While counting our breaths might work for us at one stage, calling our best friend, spouse, sibling or adult child, might work at another. As I have written about earlier, meditation has helped me gain some familiarity with my own mind, but I know prayer has worked similarly for others.

While holed up in bed this week with the flu (a strain my vaccination did not cover), I watched three seasons of The Crown, a series covering the seven decades since Queen Elizabeth took over the reign. There is a moment in the first season when Queen Elizabeth, at the tender age of 25 and in the role of Queen for less than two months after the unexpected death of her father, when her Prime Minister Winston Churchill suffers a stroke. It is during the smog crisis of 1952. She seeks counsel from her grandmother Queen Mary, who could draw on her 43 years of experience as Queen. Queen Mary said, “To do nothing is the hardest job of all. And it will take every ounce of energy that you have. To be impartial is not natural, not human.”

In the coming year, while impartiality might not be the appropriate longterm response, perhaps developing the ability to pause before reacting, the ability to scan one’s heart and mind for those kernels of hard-earned wisdom, and discern how to apply them now in this moment. And when you’re not successful (I’ve gotten better about not immediately putting my feet on the dashboard when Sarah is driving, but I still grab the handle on the ceiling), let it go.

Happy New Year!