Every once in a while, I look back on decisions I made a few months ago to a few years ago. Sometimes I think: “You know what, that was a good idea," but more often than not, I look back and think: “Wow that was a dumb idea. I’m glad I’m not that dumb anymore.”
As I see it, there are two options:
Number One: I am continually getting smarter and thus will always look back on past decisions and see how I could have made them better. In other words, hindsight is 20/20.
Number Two: I’m not actually getting smarter; I’m just getting better at recognizing my own mistakes.
While I would love number one to be true, I have a nagging feeling that option number two is the right one.
The utilitarian goal of college, and education in general, is to gain knowledge. This knowledge allows you to get a better job and make more money. Theoretically, as I go through life, I will eventually reach a point where I look back and remark: “wow, I finally made it. I’m not an idiot anymore.”
The problem is, I seem to reach that point every few months. It’s as if I come out of a reverie and realize: “I finally have all the answers. I've reached it.” Later, I realize I was just as ignorant and misguided as I was before (and always have been).
Not getting smarter isn’t my problem. Neither is the momentary blindness that obscures the awkwardness or ineptitude I use to handle a situation. The problem is how I see life. I see it as a series of levels that I move through when I reach some arbitrary level of “smartness.” If I read enough, watch the news enough, and think enough, I’ll eventually make all the right decisions, and say all the right things. I’ll stop making stupid mistakes and everything I’ve ever wanted will be mine.
Life isn’t a mountain to be climbed and dominated. It’s a series of obstacles that can only be overcome by admitting you don’t have all the answers and relying on other people’s experience and wisdom.
F. Scott Fitzgerald’s This Side of Paradise centers on Amory Blaine, who suffers from the same disease I do. At every point of his life; the first time he has a crush, when he goes to Princeton, when he joins the Army, he thinks he has all the answers. Eventually, his hubris sends him crashing to rock bottom. At his lowest point, at the end of the novel, he shouts to the heavens the phrase I have made my mantra:
“I know myself, but that is all.”
All we can truly know is who we are. Follow who you are and you will get farther than if you followed any knowledge of theory.
