Wisdom, it seems to me, cannot be imparted; though it can be inspired. It comes not with experience but from partaking in the process of lived life. Its truths stand not eternal, for they are not final, and sometimes appear as a shooting star, both beautiful and unraveling. Wisdom is not the privilege of the educated. Though she may bring a bed upon which to rest, tis not quite a state of Stoic quietude. Disquietude of mind, of spirit, remains sceptical, vibrant, alive to all that might seek her silence. Wisdom: she is a doubter, troubled, and sometimes trouble. But totally worth it!