Old Dunderheads
It’s funny how life carries you along, often in unexpected ways. In my early adult years, I was brimming with confidence—like many young people are. I threw myself into all kinds of ventures, rarely pausing to ask if they were wise, or if I was making a fool of myself, or unintentionally upsetting someone.
Back then, I was convinced I was right about nearly everything—no other opinion seemed to matter.
A family member once called me “gung-ho.” At the time, it was meant as a compliment. Fifty years later, they still say it—but now with a sigh and a shake of the head, as if it’s a flaw.
With the passage of time, and after many encounters with life’s twin imposters—success and failure—self-reflection begins to sneak in. You find yourself asking, Why did that go wrong? or Was that really a great decision?
And then comes the bigger question: Was it my own doing, or was I just in the right place at the right time?
In today’s hyper-connected world, feedback—wanted or not—comes instantly. People will tell you, sometimes bluntly, what they think of your actions, decisions, and outcomes. If you fail, you’re to blame. If you succeed, it was just dumb luck.
Even the most confident among us can begin to question themselves. Long-held beliefs start to wobble. Doubt seeps in. You hesitate before making decisions. You look outward for answers that used to come from within.
And when you reach the age where anyone younger calls it “old,” you enter a strange new phase. People around you—often with the best intentions—start to see you as less capable. They make allowances for you. They explain things more slowly. They assume.
But here’s the thing: nothing fundamental has changed.
You’re still you. Still the product of decades of learning, working, showing up, and getting things done. But somehow, others see you differently. And eventually, you start to believe it yourself.
You begin to defer. You ask others what they think before you trust your own instincts.
Time to get a grip.
This is the moment to shake off the doubt and reclaim that bold, 20-something mindset. If you're writing newsletters or sharing posts—whether for business or pleasure—speak from your own “gung-ho” perspective.
Ignore the dismissive remarks like, “I wouldn’t read that sort of thing,” or, “You’re the past, not the future.” These are mild put-downs, cloaked in casual conversation.
The world would be a more thoughtful, better-organized place if more people listened to those who have actually lived through things worth sharing.
But today, we’re told Google has all the answers—especially by those who aren’t open to learning anything beyond their own screens.
Reading someone’s hard-earned experiences may influence you for better or worse. But it doesn’t mean you have to agree with everything they say. And it certainly doesn’t mean the writer is some outdated dunderhead. Their stories are shaped by the context of the time—and worth understanding for that reason alone.
After all, human nature hasn’t changed much in millennia.
Many ancient sayings and proverbs still hold true today, even if the language has evolved.
A final thought: it’s often said that people only learn from their own mistakes. I’d argue that the truly wise also learn from the mistakes of others.