The maturity of maturation
When my kids were little, my parents got them this singing toolbox: push the button with the character on it and the box would sing while the tools danced in place. The kids would carry it around the house as soon as they were able to toddle, set it down as they pleased, push the button and hop around like a rabbit trying to two-step with a broken foot. They loved that thing; it was the first thing they went to after hugging grandparents. One child would always hold the hammer and another never let go of the screwdriver. They'd sleep with them while we were there and offered to fix everything from the dishwasher to the dog. I'm certain my parents spent late nights on their knees ensuring that the lost 'bammer' made its way back to its pride of place.
As the kids have gotten older, they've realized the utility of their favorite toy was entertainment, not fixing broken things. The dancing pliers were no less useful than the ones from the garage, but the utility was focused on entertaining toddlers.
Now, my children still eye the dancing tool set at grandma's, but think about what they're trying to accomplish before 'bam-ing' everything in the house.
This is maturity; know when and how to use tools and perhaps more importantly, when and how not.
I watch people grow up every day. Some are stuck 'bam-ing' their way through their day while others have put their tools down, having counted the cost of their hammer.
I wonder how we grow into maturity? Is my counsel good because I'm gray or because I'm thoughtful in the use of my tools?
I wonder if there's a pattern to maturing into wisdom? Are there phases we go through in shifting our expertise? Any child can 'bam' a hammer, yet only the skilled, studied and patient can build a house.
Perhaps it goes something like this:
Mimic: like my children pushing their toy lawnmower around the yard behind me, this first phase seems more about picking our models than the merit of the content; perhaps the most important phase.
Knowledge: early in my career, I was paid to know things about my client's business. I'd do the research, talk to the impacted people and provide my report. The client question of 'what should we do?' was often met with 'I'm decision-support,' which was code for 'I have no idea…I just write the reports.' This is where data becomes information and where information becomes helpful in the hands of the skilled.
Parrot: I had a coach once that was fond of quotes. He'd begin practice with a quote from a book of quotes, quoting the quoters that have been quoted since team sports began quoting quoters. He'd read someone's thought, putting a checkmark to note that the wisdom had been transferred and leave it with, 'think about that' as the application. He had borrowed his wisdom from someone else, literally working his way down the list. He knew enough to know that his job was to grow boys and that there were others in our space that we might respect. While I jest about his book of 1,001 Quotes, I'm grateful for his humility in borrowing the wisdom of others.
Synthesize: You remember that scene in Good Will Hunting where Matt Damon's character squares off with the Ivy Leaguer (it's the setup to 'how you like them apples?' Classic.)? The barstool bird talks economic theory or some such, parroting his latest reading assignment. Will overhears this, affirming the accuracy of the report before dismantling his theory with later readings and divergent opinions. While I wouldn't consider Will's behavior wise, he has an ability to tie together myriad sources into a coherent thought, which he later applies to new problems. At this point, we begin to reconcile disparate information, resolving the friction of opposing views, eventually realizing that there is no unified theory of everything.
Internalize: Wisdom, deep wisdom, must be taken from the outside world and processed internally, chewing on it as a cow chews cud. While the visual may be unpleasant, the idea is that ideas must be processed again and again, pulling them up and remaking them into something unique and wholly. It's in this internalization that information becomes application.
Edit: The deepest wisdom is clear, simple, distilled down to its essence. Provocative in its nature, contemplative by necessity, the best wisdom comes pure and straight. This perhaps is why the simplest minds find the deepest wisdom. This is why grandmothers share 'isms' life lessons as if reading from a menu and why grandfathers say the same things again and again, even at the expense of being mocked by children and grandchildren. Grandmas and Grandpas have distilled their essence into a few through-lines capable of providing them with a plumb line for their life. It's precisely in the absence of story and narrative, of context and of comment that the essence stands true.
Silence: I watched the kid get hurt while grandpa stood watch. 'Why didn't you say something? You clearly knew he was going to get hurt.' 'He wasn't going to get hurt that badly. He needs to figure out that his actions have consequences and that was stupid. Some lessons you have to learn yourself.' It's in the silence that the sound is most clear.
I suspect that, over time, this list will pare down, but it feels premature for me to start cutting for the sake of cutting. I'll chew this over with some friends and refine it a bit. Maybe I'll revisit this in the future, maybe I won't. We'll see if I grow up any before then.