The Knowledge of Youth

As for me, all I know is that I know nothing. ~ Socrates

There are a couple reigning stereotypes about the aging mind... or, at least, a couple that occur to me at the moment. One is that as we age, we gain wisdom. This is presumably due to the massive reference library of stupid moves that we've accumulated over the years, and which can be consulted on an as-needed basis. Mine, for example, rivals the Library of Congress at this point, and is still growing. The other is that we lose either our ability or interest in keeping up with all the changes around us - technological or otherwise - and gradually devolve into a blissful, functional illiteracy of sorts. I couldn't send a text message if my life depended on it, wouldn't know a Tivo if it hit me in the face, and do all my social networking by leaning over the backyard fence.

There is, however, another development that arises about this time in life - a nagging sense that you know nothing, and understand even less. It's not that you don't have facts and figures at your disposal from your years of education; it's that suddenly you realize you don't really "get it", as if a house of cards collapsed just as you were putting the last roof tile in place. I would say it's not a universal affliction, maybe not even common, but I am definitely not alone. Bill Bryson, in his wonderful book A Short History of Nearly Everything, described the moment when his cards collapsed:

Then much later - about four or five years ago - I was on a long flight across the Pacific, staring idly out the window at moonlit ocean, when it occurred to me with a certain uncomfortable forcefulness that I didn't know the first thing about the only planet I was ever going to live on.

It's the Great Unraveling, and it leaves you (well, me) with a sense of desperation of sorts, as if you have to relearn everything and get it right this time. I've tried a couple of remedies (not counting Bill's book). On one hand, I thought perhaps this was some intrinsic failure of western thought, steeped in analysis and logic, and a more Zen-like outlook was needed.

The more you know, the less you understand. ~ Tao Te Ching

My other idea was to try to get to the bottom of things. The root of all knowledge in any subject. Want to understand people? Forget Freud - study chimpanzees (I do recommend this, by the way). Want to understand physical science? Forget... well, just forget it, because no matter which way you turn, you'll eventually fall off the cliff of quantum physics, where mind-altering drugs start to look increasingly attractive.

As it turns out, I think I can learn everything I need to know from my youngest son. He wakes, he plays, he works, he laughs, he cries, he tries, he fails, he wins, he learns, he reads, he eats, he sleeps. And he knows absolutely everything worth knowing.