Why We Never Learn Until We Stumble
Why is it that human beings are wired like Wi-Fi—strongest when they’re down? Honestly, do we always have to bump our heads first before wisdom downloads?
Take me, for example: my baptism into bicycle riding was less “Tour de France” and more “Tour de First Aid.” I was eight, maybe nine, when I heroically attempted to conquer the two-wheeler, only to donate my knee skin to the tarmac. Did I learn my lesson? Of course not. A few weeks later, I tried to invent a new riding “style” on a slope—spoiler alert, gravity was not impressed. I fell again. Conclusion: pain is apparently life’s user manual.
And then there’s love—oh, love! The Holy Book warned us, Shakespeare wrote tragedies, Adele sang her lungs out, and Netflix has a whole category for it. Yet here we are, still surprised when Cupid’s arrow doubles as a dagger. Which part of the love manual did we skip—“How to Handle Betrayal” or “Heartbreak for Dummies”? Because clearly, roses come with thorns, but nobody gave us gloves.
Money and investments? Don’t get me started. We’ve got Rich Dad Poor Dad, Think and Grow Rich, and YouTubers who scream “10 passive income streams you need today!” And yet, here I am—invested in Substack and online freelancing, only to realize my “empire” is running on vibes and occasional Wi-Fi. Did I miss the chapter titled How Not to Be Semi-Functional? Probably.
Health? Oh, that’s another comedy. Entire libraries, documentaries, and TED Talks tell us how to stay healthy: exercise, eat clean, wash your hands. And yet, here I am—being mugged by the common cold every few months, while malaria lurks like an ex waiting for a weak moment. Did I forget to use mosquito nets, or did the mosquitoes simply subscribe to premium access?
And still—knowledge is everywhere. Google knows all, TikTok teaches life hacks, Instagram motivates with reels, but somehow, we remain professional stumblers. Do we really need to burn ourselves before believing fire is hot? Do we really need heartbreak, debt, and antibiotics to confirm what books already told us?
Apparently, yes. Because as humans, we don’t just stumble—we fall flat, dust ourselves off, and declare, “Well, at least now I know.” Pain is the teacher, scars are the receipts, and life—life is just one big slapstick comedy with no refunds.
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I chuckled quite a few times as I read this. As they say, age is wisdom, and being an elder, there is much truth in what you said. Those scars are reminders of lessons learned. But perseverance is also a characteristic of our ability to get back up again after repeatedly falling down. Loved this, Egy. ❤
Your wit slices clean through the chaos, Egy and leaves us laughing while nursing our own scars! I couldn’t agree more: there’s a vast difference between knowing and knowing. Theoretical knowledge sits politely in books, but lived experience? That one tattoos its lessons on our knees, hearts, and empty wallets.
I love how you captured this with humour and honesty, especially the final words: “Pain is the teacher, scars are the receipts, and life—life is just one big slapstick comedy with no refunds.” That line deserves its own frame.
We don’t listen to the elders, we dismiss the warnings, we speed headlong, and only after stumbling (again) do we sigh, nod, and say, “Ah, yes, now I understand.” It’s madness, but perhaps it’s also how we become fully human.
Thank you for this wise and hilarious reminder. May we keep falling and rising with grace (and just enough sarcasm to stay sane).