The wisdom to know

For whatever reason, I had the old Serenity Prayer in my head this morning while riding my bike along Lobsterville Road. I can't just reject such thoughts out of hand, because I try to live by a well defined code. Maybe not so much a code as much as guidelines. Anyway, if you don't know or remember it, it goes something along the lines of "God grant me the serenity to accept the things I can't change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference."

From my perspective, this is all perfectly sensible. I think the problem with it is that you can't go there without checking the first draft of the prayer, which, if you must know, I just made up. That one reads, "God grant me the serenity to accept the things I can't change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know that you probably don't understand what the words serenity and courage mean."

If most people knew what serenity meant, there wouldn't need to be the current craze around mindfulness, because you can't have serenity without it.  It's not the same as accepting Jesus or whatever the person who wrote the prayer actually meant (the full version mentions that fellow- the familiar part is just the first 3 lines). I think of serenity as true inner peace, where you are completely present and your mind is clear. In other words, a rarity, something that most of us rarely or never touch.

Courage is even stickier, because being serene requires simplicity and courage is much more complex. It's also gotten stuck with a connotation about physical bravery, which is not at all what the prayer is talking about or what courage means. Courage is some sort of indescribable mixture of fortitude and boldness; it's not just about going out and fighting for something, though sometimes that's exactly what it means. And it's not about simply enduring, though sometimes that's exactly what it means. It kind of means doing both at the same time, which is a little hard to picture and a lot hard to do.

I know if I try to go any deeper right now that I'm not going to finish, so I'll have to settle for one of three results. Either I have ruined your favorite little prayer, or I've helped you think a little more deeply about the things you read and hear, or I've accomplished nothing. And I can accept that.