After college and before I figured out what I wanted to do with my life, I bartended for two years in Boulder, CO. To pass the slow winter days, I befriended the elderly saxophonist who played outside the restaurant.

Eugene “Lucky” Hudson had lived each of his 75 years with a passion for experience that took him all over the country, playing juke joints and living out of suitcases. Every afternoon, I would wipe the bar, and he’d listen to my stories — quibbles with co-workers, laments about holiday demands, wounds left over from spats with friends. Regardless of how silly or insipid that day’s complaints were, Lucky would listen with his whole body, nodding and humming and closing his eyes, “tsk”ing and laughing with his whole belly. At the end of my rants, he’d wipe his beer mustache with the back of his hand, fix me with his huge brown eyes, and say, “Well, let me tell you something about people …” and off he’d launch into a story.

At the time, I’d wonder what an anecdote about working a farm in Alabama or sporting around the jazz clubs of San Francisco had to do with my problems. I saw only the specific details of his situations, the distinct personalities he described. Now, with the benefit of a few experiences of my own, I see those details as markers, giving tangible form to the real messages behind his words.

When I remember those words, I no longer hear about the rough drought back in 1939 or the gleam of a fin-tailed Cadillac. I hear his low, smooth voice saying, “Your momma just needs to be loved — don’t question it, just do it” or “Forgiveness is our chance to create divinity — granting it only begets more.”

What swims back to me with complete and ruthless clarity are the lessons he tossed around as effortlessly as seeds from a farmer’s hand. Those seeds took root, and I’m only now hearing his wisdom as he heard my woes.
By Mariska vanAalst, 50 things that really matter, Rodale Press for Hallmark

As I read Mariska’s words, I remember my journey to whatever wisdom I have. As I got older, I realized the world didn’t revolve around me and my thinking evolved into the realization we are all intertwined in one way or another. My experiences could help you. Your experiences could help me. That interconnection still amazes me.

Wisdom isn’t about knowing everything … or even anything. It’s about experiencing life, learning its lessons and passing it along. Listen to the stories … not just the words. Listen to the lessons. Apply those lessons to your situation. And don’t be afraid to pass your story along {a good way is an e-book my Deanna Kohlhofer — by way of full disclosure, my daughter — available at http://journeywithd.com/ebooks/}.

THOUGHT TO REMEMBER: Enthusiasm is very good lubrication for the mind.