Paganistan: Notes from the Secret Commonwealth
In Which One Midwest Man-in-Black Confers, Converses & Otherwise Hob-Nobs with his Fellow Hob-Men (& -Women) Concerning the Sundry Ways of the Famed but Ill-Starred Tribe of Witches.
The Wisdom of the Elders
“So where's all this wisdom of the elders that I'm supposed to have?”
My friend shakes his head and laughs.
“Now I'm an old guy, and young people come to me looking for wisdom; what am I supposed to say? I feel like I don't have any more insight than they do.”
I smile. I've been there myself.
“You do what the elders have always done,” I tell him, reminding him of what he already knows, and what, I'm sure, he's already doing. “You speak out of your own experience. You tell stories. People aren't looking for general principles. They're looking for stories: applied wisdom.”
My friend nods.
“Do what's right,” he says. “Be just. Speak truth.”
“Nothing secret or mysterious about it. Own what you do. Don't be an asshole.”
“And when you screw up, do what you can to make it good, and remember that, sooner or later, everybody screws up, and chances are, you'll make it through anyway.”
We laugh.
“There's your starry wisdom,” I say. “'Consult precedent, and improvise.'”
We clink beer cans.
“Well, happy Beltane to you, too. You ready for another one yet?”
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