My dad likes to say, “We get so soon old and so late smart.” He often accompanies it with a wry shake of the head, acknowledging that through a lot of living and a few hard knocks, he figured out something that he should have learned a long time ago. I’ve had my share of those moments, usually when I realize my stubborn insistence on pursuing a particular goal in a particular way — even when it has proven less than satisfactory in the past — has once again resulted in the same not-so-pleasant outcome. Such is the case when I have traveled to a new city or visited a large exhibition or museum. There is nearly always some time constraint which any reasonable person would realize leaves me with less time than I really need to see or do everything that I would like. I forge ahead undaunted, however, determined that I certainly will get to all the major sights of the town or every hall in the building. You experienced travelers (and quick learners) already know that in that direction lie folly, exhaustion and sore feet. Oh, I don’t mean to say that I don’t recall those unpleasant aspects of my blitz attacks and at least go in to a new situation with good intentions of not repeating the same mistakes. But, like the proverbial kid in the candy store, once I’m in the middle of a fascinating new place or confronted with a whole gallery of Old Masters, I have a hard time reining in my desire to take it all in in whatever time I have. My visit to the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York City two weeks ago provided me with a fresh opportunity to put into effect the lessons learned in the past — or revert to my old bad habits. I am happy to report that, for the most part, I exercised enormous restraint and, as a result, enjoyed a really lovely four hours there. Did I see EVERYTHING? No, I never even ventured beyond the main floor.  Though I sometimes felt the presence of all those treasures in the upper reaches almost physically weighing down on me, clamoring for me to come seek them out, I resisted that impulse. Instead, I strolled and sat, paused and took in both minute details and the bigger view, interspersed with people-watching fellow art lovers. Instead of deciding in advance that I needed to get to a certain number of galleries, I just decided to allow a reasonable pace and our departure time to determine what and how much I took in. In doing so, I could really relish what I DID see, and in keeping at bay the greedy thoughts of what else there was to see, I also avoided frustration, exhaustion and sensory overload. I like to think of my trip to New York and my more relaxed approach there as a trial run for a more extensive sojourn coming up in May.  My sisters and I are taking a 12-day cruise from Venice to Barcelona, with a tantalizing lineup of ports in between. While we swap emails back and forth, throwing out suggestions for shore excursions and sites we’d like to visit, I keep reminding myself that less is truly more. Rather than tearing around each city trying to take it all in (and thereby barely absorbing anything), I am determined to leave time for savoring a drink at a sidewalk cafe, strolling narrow lanes and chatting with shopkeepers. Wish me luck! Hopefully my newfound wisdom will stick with me. Patty Vanikiotis, proofreader