Wisdom Is Where It Finds You
She had an old external frame backpack with patches from various hiking organizations sewed on. A pretty worn out sleeping mat was strapped to the top, and what appeared to be a well used sleeping bag hung from the bottom of her pack. It looked way too big for her small, fragile body.
I couldn’t help myself, I know the rules, never ask a woman her age, but I also knew the exception to the rule. When women reach a certain age, they tend to brag about it. How many grandchildren they have, how many presidents they voted for, and how many husbands they outlived. They become proud of their age and wear their wisdom in each wrinkle on their face. So I asked. 77, she said without hesitation. Way to go, I returned.
I thought about what she said as I struggled that last mile back to the car. I had asked her how she does it? “I just keep putting one foot in front of the other”, she answered.