There’s Something Wrong When You’re Always Right
Trust me, I should know — I always am
Everything I ever said was pure wisdom; undiluted truth, dipped and dripping with gold. I considered myself quite the philosopher. Indeed, an eternal fountain of knowledge, the bearer of divine truth.
I romanticised the heck out of it.
I sailed the waves of my brilliance; basked under the shine of my glory; graced myself with copious assent and praises.
Many would even say I was wise beyond my years — ‘the wise guy’, they would say, ‘always right’. And I enjoyed that; it was delightful to be noticed for my gifts!
But then it befell me — it wasn’t a compliment.
Reality: Incoming
This healthy measure of reality came soon crashing, revolting, some might say finally, against my wonderful existence. I’ll spare the details, for I’ve blabbered on quite enough already (but not merely to avoid embarrassment).
But everything I thought I knew, everything I held so precious, was just straw and hay, smoke and vapour — I spent my life grasping for the wind.
More, I realised nobody ever desired to hear what I had to say. In fact, now — even I didn’t.
Suddenly, I could not help but notice how many, although nodding, smiling, even laughing at the right points, most definitely, inside, were reciting their shopping lists or anything else to do immediately after this fool stopped talking.
However, most told me it wasn’t a problem, which, for the most part, I agree it wasn’t — for them! They could leave this outpouring eventually (of course, until the next time), but for me — this was 24/7!
Then it struck me:
People are already preoccupied with their own lives, their own ways of working through things, that my two pence just fell between the cracks of who they were, and who I was pretending to be.
Nobody Knows Anything
By this point, I had realised we’re all just pretending; fools and elbows just bumping into each other, one soul kissing the other, pretending we know what on earth we’re doing here.
(my Nihilism phase had begun).
In a moment’s notice, everything meant nothing — humanity was now but cells and smells tumbling for air and food and water and thrills.
Pointless.
Yes, I resigned my soul to a life of meaninglessness. My wisdom, my insight — now worthless. Indeed, I had fallen. Fallen far, indeed.
But, Why Was I So Brilliant?
After my spell of despair, I thought: where do I go from here?
Strenuously, I had tried to prove myself as someone worthy of love. Wisdom and knowledge became my opium, my drug of choice, and my meaning hinged on my proficiency in both.
But, what I didn’t know, and what I would come to know, is that many already loved me — deeply — and even deep down, I loved myself.
So, all this straining was, in the end — pointless.
(It seems my Nihilistic self was onto something after all).
It took many years, before finally giving up, to realise what others would have told me all along, those simple words: ‘I love you’, and ‘you are loved’.
And how easy was that?
For Similar Fools With Similar Problems
I’ve learned not to try for love. Yes, strive to be better, but not to be something else.
We know things, but we need not know everything. I’m a human being, not a filing cabinet. And for that, I count this as a blessing. A humble relief!
Besides, if we knew everything, life would be a rather bleak existence indeed. There’s a lot I’d rather not know!
And that’s not pleading a cause of ignorance, but merely recognising we should not learn and hold knowledge of such things. That burden is far too heavy, far too dark; that onus belongs to someone else, not me.
No. We need less, not more.
So, if perchance you’re prone to the same intellectual pride — let that silliness go.
We’re better than that.
No, actually, we’re worse than that.
But that’s a good thing.
Be a fool, by all means,
but be a loved one.
Arthur.