Blog #75. Lived Experience is the Greatest Teacher

In a world drowning in data, what kind of knowledge actually helps us thrive?

This time of year is like a school counselor, clipboard in hand. Such a To Do (and not do) List! The air turns crisp, the back-to-school ads clog our media, and we try to fit summer feet into new shoes. And everyone waits for the bell to ring.

Lived experience is the greatest teacher.

Even if your backpack and lunch money days are long gone, you might feel the tug. That whisper that says, Maybe I should take that course. Read that book. Learn that system. Get another certification. Maybe I should know more stuff.

Because many of us, especially those of us in our third chapter of life, have been told that our worth is tied to what we can prove. But here’s the thing: we’ve already survived what the textbooks only theorize about.

You want a syllabus? Try heartbreak. Reinvention. Caregiving. Losing parents. Letting go of children. Changing careers or being changed by a diagnosis, a divorce, or the slow-burn grief of a world that doesn’t align with our values or value our voices. That class? We’ve passed it with honors.

Lived experience doesn’t come with a diploma. It doesn’t beef up a résumé. But it carries weight. It shows up when your friend gets the bad news, and you know exactly what not to say. It’s how your body senses a lie before your brain does. It’s the pause you take before responding, because you’ve seen the consequences of knee-jerk reactions. In this wild, wobbly world, that kind of knowing is priceless.

We elder women know what algorithms don’t. We know how to tend, to teach, and to troubleshoot. We’ve fed people through lean times, held vigil through loss, and started over more times than we care to count. And we do it with heart, with humor, and usually with snacks and tissues in our bag.

Let’s honor what we already know and put it to work.

1. Write your personal syllabus. What are five life lessons you didn’t learn in school but couldn’t live without? (Bonus points for lessons in the form of songs, books, or memes.)

2. Share stories, not sermons. You don’t need to fix people. You just need to show them what survival looks like—with honesty, humor, and a side of grace.

3. Gather your council. You are not meant to hold all this wisdom alone. Find your people. Share the hard-earned insights. Laugh at the messes. Marvel at the beauty. This is how we grow wiser together.

4. Trust your inner compass. When something feels off—even if the “experts” say otherwise—honor that instinct. You didn’t get this far by accident.

5. Stop asking permission. You don’t need a gold star to speak up, sit down, or start that project. You’ve got authority built right into your bones.

Come join me at WonderCrone.com, where lived experience isn’t just honored—it’s celebrated. Because we know: the women with the most wrinkles often hold the deepest truths.