The Sophisticated ladies album plays in the background and I stare out into space trying to figure out how I missed my mark. Years ago, i would have not question how sophisticated I was, feeling so in control of the narrative. Sophistication is an allure, in a lady world were we do not talk out loud with out insecurities instead we wear status symbols as badges to distract others from our flaws. I thought of the ladies that frequented the jazz clubs of old, the type of places that inspired the composer Duke Ellington to write a sonnet about an experience. The dialogue and the party. Life is not a party, we find that after we retreat to our real lives and find a not so polished version of ourselves hiding neglected, and not often paraded around for others to see. I have come to see what sophistication is and what it hides, I have come to value honesty even if it looks a little messy, I have come to value the things that come to teach lessons, and to talk to others about the lessons in the stories we tell. All this before my morning tea, or coffee.