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Were I to make a list of all the foolish things I’ve ever done, it would be impressive and that does not include the great majority which are forgotten. My foolishness began with my first breath and I suspect will only end upon the last gasp as I leave this world. 

In youth, we are taught right from wrong and safe from hazardous, but are genetically programmed to tempt fate in reckless attempts to prove we are smarter, faster or more stubborn than those around us. We thrill to the idea of cheating death. I, for one, have the scars of my adolescence upon my body, heart and conscious. What a fool I was, with no concept of mortality, not yet aware of how precious live was. 

I offer advice to my youngest family members as they weave through the emotional mind fields of two faced friends and unrequited love, searching for the words to lessen their confusion and pain. But mostly, I remember how I was thrown onto those rocky shores in a time gone, with no wish to ever relive that portion of my life. Which is more foolish in youth, that we offer out hearts to the boys who haven’t a care for how they handle them: or to survive bruised and sometimes broken and then hide our love away, afraid of reliving that pain. 

As each decade come we are offered new and unique ways to make fools of ourselves. There are the times we squander our time on silly games, instead of learning a lesson that you will need to survive intact in the far off future. There are the times we should have played with our friends and neighbors to establish the bonds that link us for a lifetime. 

Love and fools are inexplicably tied together. It doesn’t matter your age, gender or race; our hearts make decisions independently of the brain. As a consequence we are always made to look the fool. Did we learn nothing in our youth? 

The pragmatic will submit that any dream that is not substantiated with the sure knowledge of success is foolish. I need to believe that your dreams can come true, much like Pinocchio. My dream to become a published author came true because I put in the time and wrote a novel that was considered good enough to be published. That was not foolish, that was work. It was only part of the dream though, I want to be a writer able to live comfortable off the proceeds of my novels and devote myself to writing full time. What makes this a foolish dream is that I have tied my heart and ego into the mix and it requires luck and good fortune as much as the work I put forth. 

I believe that in old age we should be allowed to be foolish, to act out and do things that are bad for us. I will have paid all my dues to the next generation and the one that just past. I worked to make the world a better place. I want everyone to say, “what a foolish old woman, with her fan collection and Lord of the Rings chess sets. She’s so odd, but damn, she can make me laugh.” 

Tell me about foolish you. 

Rhianna