Verse 65
I am old enough that strangers have begun calling ordinary things wisdom when I say them slowly.
I am old enough that strangers have begun calling ordinary things wisdom when I say them slowly.
This is dangerous.
Age grants evidence, not infallibility.
I have survived choices I would advise against.
I have also survived advice I should have ignored.
Saturn is said to belong to old men. The planet did not request us.
What age truly gives is subtraction.
Fewer future selves compete for attention.
Some friends are dead.
Some enemies became irrelevant without the courtesy of defeat.
The body sends memos in increasingly large type.
I meditate less heroically now.
Some mornings enlightenment is taking the pills before coffee.
I no longer want eternity as much as I once wanted an explanation.
A finite afternoon can be complete.
The cat on my windowsill is not troubled by metaphysics and has outlived two of my systems.
I respect this.
If consciousness is Brahman, it does not need my endorsement.
If there is no Brahman, the tea still cools.
I have spent years trying to solve existence and little time noticing it was happening during the attempt.
That is my only sermon worth keeping.
Notice before naming.
Love before memorializing.
Repair what can be repaired.
Apologize before philosophy makes the delay sound noble.
Keep a little money aside.
Do not confuse despair with depth.
Do not confuse optimism with stupidity either.
At the last gate I intend to bring no password.
If there is a guard, he may explain himself to me.
If there is nothing, nothing will have no complaint.
Until then, the evening is clear.
Saturn is visible.
I have seen enough to look once more.