I keep waiting for some magical moment when I will get smarter- make only wise decisions… all the wise choices my mother told me I’d make with age. I keep waiting as if I am due. Due to receive my bowl of truth and knowledge. A bouquet of roses, a song and the bright red sash of wisdom strikingly adorning my bosom in a vertical fashion.

I keep asking wisdom to call me when she gets there, but my phone never rings. And now I wanna know why. I wanna know what happened to that phone call that I’m due?

I envision the warrior spirit of Brigit surrounding me; she has always held my hand through trying times but eventually there is a release and I fall. And when I get up I seem as stupid as ever. Am I going anywhere important? Stamping my name on the world at all? No. I am merely existing; pretending I’ve learned something- earned something of value. Earned my sash of wisdom fair and square. In reality, I feel like I’m stuck. How? With all I’ve gone through, why does it feel like I haven’t learned a fucking thing? I’ve got to back track. I missed a pivotal, vital turn. Missed it like my husband missed that fucking exit on the freeway last night.

Somehow, someway… I have got to make the lessons stick. Maybe then I’ll get some of that wisdom Mama told me about.

Love,

Nobody Special