I think that people assume that if you’re over 40, surely you know it all. It’s the mid-life corollary to being in your mid-twenties. Older means wiser, right? But the truth of the matter is, the older I get, the more I realize I have to learn. Especially from people my junior. Which is why the following situation observed last night in the West Village made me take pause and prick up my ears.
A woman, 25 or so, was seated with a pair of women over 40 who alternated offering their younger companion a slew of unsolicited suggestions.
“I’m going to give you a tip: never ever sleep with anyone at work, especially someone more senior than you are. No one will ever trust that your successes are your own”, one of the 40-something year-olds insisted, in varying ways, several times over much to the apparent disinterest of the younger companion. The young woman took it in, disengaged, politely smiled and took a sip of red wine.
The other 40-something year old chimed in: “I have the PERFECT book for you to read—“ At which point the 20-something year old piped up, unapologetically. “You know” she said, searching for a diplomatic way to phrase it, “I never understand why people give advice and recommend books as some kind of a substitute for life experience. I believe that you just have to live your life”.
The two 40-something year-old women looked at each other as they contemplated their younger friend’s reasonable response. Didn’t she have a point? Don’t we all have to feel our way through come-what-may as a rite of passage? Is there any real substitute for experience?
Pretty quickly, the “older-wiser-ones” let it drop. And the conversation took a turn. But in the final analysis, everyone’s point was well taken.
Wisdom. It can come from all different ages and it can strike us in the most unexpected situations.
But it isn’t easy. It’s hard for many people to believe that someone younger can unlock or awaken some kind of deeper self-knowledge. We inherently distrust those who are younger than we are due to apparent inexperience.
Ever get on a plane and see the cockpit crew and think to yourself, “Damn, I could have given birth to those two” only to then sweat bullets through perfectly executed take off, seamless flight and deft landing and feel ashamed in the final analysis, for doubting the confidence of younger professionals? Sound familiar?
In every position that I’ve ever worked in I’ve invariably received some advice that chapped my hide in the moment but proved to be a variable life lesson in the long run.
Once an older co-worker took me aside and told me that I should ask permission to do anything. “Act now and apologize later if you have to” he advised. “Get out of the kitchen and let someone else cook”; a seemingly nasty female co-worker once warned when I complained about something trivial pertaining to my job. Sometimes the advice you didn’t ask for stings and annoys. But oftentimes, it proves to be a gift. As long as we listen and listen carefully, we can absorb unforeseen wisdom when it falls in our laps.
Socrates said: “The only true wisdom is in knowing you know nothing”. And if you believe that, it sort of levels the generational playing field of knowledge. The best we can do as people is to, listen, absorb messages, no matter the age or experience of the giver-of-advice.
Last night in the dim light of the West Village eatery, as one of the 40-something year old women picked up the tab, the 20-something year old leaned in and asked: “What was the name of that book you recommended again?”
