I’m thrilled to have author Diane Cardwell join me today for a 20-minute video interview about her new book about how she learned to surf at gritty, eccentric Rockaway Beach in NYC as she was confronting a midlife crisis that she pivoted into a calling.

The words “encore” and “mentor” sound alike. I was 52 years old in early 2013 and had no idea what was next for me. In the movie “The Intern,” Robert DeNiro says, “Musicians don’t retire. They quit when there’s no more music inside of them.” I know I still had music to share, but I wasn’t sure with whom to share it.

Last night was a full blown, full moon show here in Northern California. Driving through the hills of West Marin the moon appeared as a huge pumpkin colored disc on the horizon. Every detail of its surface magnified into startling clarity.

I love basketball and have suggested this sport can influence how we see our lives (here’s a recent blog post). Before 1954 in the National Basketball Association and 1985 in the NCAA, there was an expression of “running out the clock” with a “four corners offense” meant to stall when you’re winning the game. Some pundits have suggested the Biden campaign has been “running out the clock.” Not a good idea.

Knowledge is knowing a tomato is a fruit. Wisdom is not putting it in a fruit salad. Philosophers focus on wisdom. The rest of us trade in knowledge. My favorite modern-day philosopher is my friend Alain de Botton who started the School of Life.

My friend Neel recently sent me this collection of visual life cycles that were sparked by a Twitter user who posted the life cycle of a blackberry that went viral. From there, people started sharing additional life cycle images of things like coffee, cotton, blueberries, and leaves.

In a post not long ago (“Are You So Woke You Can’t Sleep”), I introduced you to author, speaker, and inspirational entertainer Justin Michael Williams, our youngest MEA grad who is one of the wisest and most soulful people I know.

Fleeing my native California, I couldn’t see the ground after the plane was 50 feet in the air. Too much thick, billowing smoke. The earth was scorched. Three hours later, I arrived in a parched Texas that had two hurricanes barreling toward the Gulf Coast.

How many coats of paint have your body gathered? How could you live an unvarnished life? These were the questions that arose for me when I watched this short video about Alex Raza and his second act as a violin maker.

If you’re been an avid Wisdom Well reader, you know I revere the Irish poet John O’Donohue who passed away way too young a dozen years ago. If you dip into his well on Google, you’ll find things like this YouTube conversation on Ageing (yes, I kept the “e” in there out of respect to John’s European roots). Here are a few of the gems from his ruminations: