You know that feeling

It's when the tears spill over her mascara and she asks "Why now? Why does it happen now" and you dredge up some fortune-cookie comfort phrase that is about as useful as your awkward shoulder pat or offer of a kleenex.



thats when you realize that wisdom is a garment that must be fitted to the wearer daily. there ain't no relying on what you learned at your grandpa's funeral or on the dock in the middle of the lake at summer camp. Rather, you may draw upon the experiences of those times, but you must filter it throught the man you are today, at this moment. That takes discipline, though, and mental exertion. Often it means reinterpreting the past, realigning your ideas in agreement with your maturity. It can be rough. It means looking around you and learning from the present, so that your words are real and styled for this year. If you have ever had someone tell you "Man, I've been there, I know what it's like" only to liken your pain to a scenario from Mrs. Harl's second grade math class, you know what I'm talking about.

It's like a reheated, refrozen, rehashed HungryMan meal - you wouldn't serve it to the rotweiler next door, and you shouldn't offer it to your friend, (even if she's a blonde going through her eighth emotional Three Mile Island in as many days).

Every February the snowdrops out by the mailbox start poking green waxy points through the old mulch. By March they've come up all the way, and graceful white bells offer their beauty to the elements and drip in the miserable weather. Those flowers always look the same. The bulbs they retreat into after spring really comes are the same ones Grandma & I planted when I was six. But the flowers are new every year.

You are the same person, your experiences all happen to you. But the way you understand them is different every day, just as you are different every day. Don't stop questioning, don't coast along pretending you don't change. You do change. Everybody knows that feeling.