Timely Wisdom

Wisdom is grown, not produced

John Blythe
Fenced In
Published in
2 min readOct 29, 2013

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Every passing year, or day, really, I know how much more I need wisdom. It’s an idea often taken for granted, not least of all by younger people such as myself. When young people push wisdom off, though, they end up on the other half of their lives wondering why it’s nowhere to be found. I certainly don’t want to be that sort of person.

The thing about wisdom is that it has to be grown and developed, it can’t just be produced. There isn’t a quick formula or special process by which you can have the output be the equivalent of years of thought, sorrow, love, and life, as well as all the other things that culminate into wisdom. But we don’t like waiting, we like now. We don’t like growth, we like results.

And so one of the tricks to it all is to wait. It’s to seem as if nothing is happening, but deep beneath the surface there is a process occurring, a steeping or fermenting of sorts as all your experiences, fears, emotions, reflections, relationships, knowledge, affections, and beliefs are molded into something that can really be worth while. Rushing the process, though, ruins the product. And so we must wait.

One of the quickest (ironically) ways to see if this process is occurring or has occurred is what we do with our communication. Whether speaking, texting, tweeting, or anything else, the issue of wisdom comes into play.

A fool takes no pleasure in understanding,
but only in expressing his opinion…
A fool’s mouth is his ruin,
and his lips are a snare to his soul.
Proverbs 18:2, 7

Wisdom takes its time while foolishness rushes in to hit forward, retweet, or comment. Wisdom waits for the verdict while foolishness makes its own. Wisdom speaks and foolishness never listens.

Every day there is an opportunity to follow the path of wisdom. Every day lost can only be mourned. Wisdom runs off of the economy of time, so invest in it every chance you get.

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John Blythe
Fenced In

Trying to make a dent while I’m here. Part-time serial comma activist and wannabe writer. Opinions are my own.