You thought the people you disagreed with were your enemy. Sure, you didn’t say it outright. You preached the virtues of constructive disagreement, but deep down, you felt it. You were against them. They were the opposition. They weren’t you. They weren’t your friends. They didn’t think like you, act like you. They thought stupid shit, did stupid shit. They weren’t like you.
You thought they didn’t have anything to teach you. They were too foolish. They weren’t educated enough. They hadn’t read what you read, hadn’t seen what you’d seen. They weren’t thinking rationally. They were under some spell, duped by a good story. But they were missing something—something crucial—something that you had discovered: the truth.
You fuckhead. They’re people.
This post is the second in an occasional series of me arguing with myself.
You never stopped to think that maybe they had experienced something you hadn’t? You never stopped to think that appearances could be deceiving? You never stopped to think that you might be wrong?
You wrote them off. Discounted their view. On account of your own need to feel smarter, morally superior, and just… right.
Like, c’mon now. What have you learned so far?
Your anxieties were often all overblown. Your worst case scenarios nearly never came true. Your best laid plans never went off without a hitch, and yet with all your ego invested in their payoff, the world spun on ever against your will, still graciously allowing you to lick your wounds, eat your crow, and badger on with your relentless agenda of getting what you wanted and knowing you were right.
Well, what now, you fuckhead?
Everything you believed has got a goddamned asterisk next to it now! Every line you drew in the sand got mussed by waves and foot traffic. And now you gotta fess up, admit you were wrong about some things, and pay the piper.
You say you want to pursue being less wrong. You say you want to engage with the other side. You say you want to learn from people you disagree with.
You never thought you wouldn’t end up flat on your face, kicking yourself for your own blindspots? You never thought it might mean you might have to diminish? You never thought you might have to learn some goddamn humility the hard way?
Well this is it. This is the moment. You can “YEAH, BUT” your way to oblivion and in the end, it will lead you all the way back here again.
So you have a choice, now, you fuckhead.
You can do this again. You can spend a decade overcorrecting, racing headlong in the opposite direction you were going, blinders on, fully convinced you got it right this time.
Or you can take some time. And rest. And think. Think long and hard. And feel. Feel what’s really going on inside that heart of yours.
What are your desires? What are your goals? You say you want virtue, but do you really mean it? Do you really know what that takes? You know what your teachers have been saying. Have you been listening?
If anyone tells you that a certain person speaks ill of you, do not make excuses about what is said of you, but answer: “He was ignorant of my other faults, else he would not have mentioned these alone.”
Epictetus, Enchiridion 33
You say you want wisdom, well fucking listen then, you fuckhead. This was never about whether you were right or wrong. This was about who you are.
Are you better than them? Smarter than them? Righter than them? What the fuck has it ever fucking mattered?
They’re people. Fucking listen.
You fuckhead.
This post was inspired by and written to this song, “Obsolete” by Sara Groves.
Groves told the story behind the song in this video. When I heard it, I broke down and cried ugly. I don’t know why.
No, I do know why. I live in the city. I walk past people all day. People living on the street. I compartmentalize. I focus on where I’m going.
I don’t know what I’m going to do now. I don’t know much anymore about anything.