When I was first divorced, I started dating younger women, and it

In the words of Louis C. K., there lies not a jest, but a confession of the soul’s awakening. When he said, “When I was first divorced, I started dating younger women, and it was really exciting. But after a while I was like, ‘This is just dumb,’” he was not merely recounting a man’s folly; he was revealing the ancient struggle between desire and wisdom, between illusion and understanding. This is the story of how the heart, broken and seeking to prove its worth, chases after the fleeting glimmers of youth — only to discover that true fulfillment dwells not in novelty, but in truth.

In the first flush of freedom, after the bonds of marriage are loosed, the spirit seeks to reclaim what it believes it has lost: vitality, attention, excitement. The newly unmoored man, much like the sailor who has survived a shipwreck, reaches for anything that floats — be it wisdom or folly. Louis, in his honesty, admitted that youthful romance seemed to offer a spark of life again. Yet, as the wise know, sparks are bright but short-lived. What begins as thrill soon turns to emptiness when the heart seeks meaning in places where only mirrors dwell. The illusion of youth, he discovered, is not renewal, but distraction.

Such folly is as old as time. Consider King Solomon, whose heart was restless despite his wisdom and wealth. He built temples, took wives and concubines beyond number, and tasted every pleasure known to man. Yet in the end, his words rang hollow and weary: “Vanity of vanities, all is vanity.” So too does Louis’s reflection echo Solomon’s lament — that the pursuits of the flesh, though dazzling, soon reveal their emptiness. To chase the appearance of joy without seeking its substance is to drink from a mirage in the desert. It may glitter like water, but it does not quench.

There is also the deeper truth hidden beneath his humor — that of maturity hard-won. For many, the end of a marriage feels like death. One mourns not only the love lost, but the self that once existed within it. In that grief, it is tempting to reach for the symbols of youth, to prove that time has not yet conquered you. But the wise know that healing cannot be found in distraction. It is found only in the silent reckoning of the soul, when one faces the loneliness head-on and allows it to temper the heart into something deeper and truer.

Even the ancients knew this law of return. When Odysseus left the nymph Calypso’s immortal embrace to journey back to Penelope, he was not choosing mere comfort over passion — he was choosing truth over illusion. Though Calypso offered eternal youth, it was hollow without meaning. Odysseus longed not for perfection but for the real, flawed love that awaited him at home. So too did Louis, in his moment of clarity, realize that the pursuit of youthful excitement was a counterfeit freedom, one that dulled the spirit rather than awakening it.

The lesson, then, is clear and timeless: Do not confuse excitement with fulfillment, nor novelty with wisdom. Youth may dazzle the senses, but wisdom steadies the soul. Seek not those who make you feel young, but those who make you feel alive. For excitement fades with the morning light, but companionship endures through the long night. The wise do not chase after what glitters; they build what lasts.

Therefore, let the listener take heed: when loss tempts you toward distraction, pause and listen to your deeper longing. Ask not, “What excites me?” but rather, “What strengthens me?” Cherish the company of those who bring depth instead of glitter, peace instead of thrill. Tend the garden of your own soul until it is rich again — and then share its fruit with those who can truly taste its sweetness.

And so, from the jest of Louis C. K., a truth ancient as the stars arises: the heart that chases youth will grow weary, but the heart that embraces wisdom, authenticity, and love rooted in truth will find a joy that does not fade. Be not deceived by the shimmer of the surface — seek instead the stillness beneath, and there you will find the sacred laughter that never grows old.