“What is wisdom?” That is a question for the ages. Yet, one possible answer was yielded to me by Neal Stephenson’s Quicksilver:
“Because in the end every soul, be it never so engaged in the world, was like Daniel Waterhouse, alone in a round room in a stone tower, and receiving impressions from the world through a few narrow embrasures.”
If a soul is as Stephenson describes, a thing trapped in a stone tower with few windows from which to look out on the world, then isn’t wisdom the widening of said windows? Isn’t it wisdom to break down those walls entirely, exposing yourself to the wind, the rain, the sun, the stars and the sky? Better yet, isn’t it wisdom to break down those walls, come down from the tower, and wander about the world, wondering all the while?