What do I know?

I'm standing in my kitchen with a butter knife, carefully scraping the icing that says "28" off of my Helen Bernhard's Birthday cake. Not for vanity, but because I am sharing my cake with one of my classes tomorrow and I never reveal my age to my students. They can guess, but I will never tell. If I'm still teaching at 35, then I might tell them when they ask [which they always do], "I am 35." But 28 somehow seems too young to be doing what I'm doing. I have students on the heels of my age and some that surpass it. Since we equate wisdom and knowledge with the years we have existed according to the calendar, part of me feels not worthy of having my job. It's funny to realize the dissonance between what you know and what other people's perceptions might be of what it is you know. Especially when it comes to age.


"I didn't know any better, I was young."
"Oh, she'll grow out of it."


I'm sure I will refute some of what I think I know now by 35. Or by 29. Better yet, in 6 months. A lot can happen in that time. And when we get busy and sidetracked by life, it's not until we're flipping the calendar to the next month that we realize it's time for yet another BDay. 


Why is it that as we make our ascent up the age ladder, we find that the time it takes us to reach the next rung seems to be much less than the journey to the previous? 

Where will this next year take us? I hope that I find myself with two of my gal pals at the base of the falls of Niagara (or on a hire wire crossing over it?). And who knows where else. If I know anything for sure, I know that plans [for the most part] are pretty much moot. Even with this knowledge, I'm still working on accepting that. How do I know this? Oh, because I've had plans. I had a life written out on a sheet of 8 1/2 x 11 inch college ruled notebook paper that I later converted into a word document. Some of those things indeed did come true, some I'm still working on and I'm certain others are just that... "plans." They look good on paper but may have no place in my story. 


Some lofty plans of the past:


1st grade teacher: And what are your plans for the summer Teela?
1st grade Teela: Hmm...I think I'll write a novel.

I did write some tales that summer, but none that you'll find on the shelves of Powell's or Elliott Bay Books. These are kept hidden in a number of shoe boxes underneath my bed [well now you know the hiding place] for the purposes of memory lane and to not lose sight of my imagination. I find that as we get further away from the ground and the higher up we climb, we become more fearful of the fall we might take. We feel that we have more to lose, more people to let down or disappoint, and that it will be harder to get back up.

What I know at 28 is that these are merely stumbles. If you are lucky enough to have family and friends with unapologetic love for you, it's not so bad to fall. 


And if you're really lucky when you find yourself flat on your back, there will be friendly arms extended down towards you to help you back up but with the expectation you'll choose a different path next time. They have confidence in you.


And if you are ridiculously lucky, you'll have the voice of your beautiful niece in your ear carefully negotiating her sounds and where exactly her tongue placement should be on back of her front teeth to make the sounds "T-T."

What I certainly don't know are the many ways I will be fascinated by her tomorrow and the day after. And the year after that.  

From her I also know that age doesn't necessarily mean wisdom. I know people 50 times her age that she is much smarter than. [True story]

What I also know? These stiletto's have a lot of cobblestone roads and city sidewalks to stomp through. Anticipating the journey, sore feet and all.