Things I don’t know

Every so often I have this moment of absolute clarity about how little I actually know.  It happens with alarming frequency.  Often the barrier of delusion my ego has built is strong enough that I don’t have to do anything about it, it just bounces off.  But sometimes I can’t deny it; it punctures that facade.  It’s both my favorite and least favorite thing in the world.  The trajectory of the experience goes something like this:

1. I realize (usually from being around someone super knowledgable) that I don’t have a clue about some angle of something I thought I had studied/read intensely about, or embarrassingly, considered myself an expert on.

2. I am unsteadied by this realization.  This here is ego–no one should ever be surprised that they don’t know everything, but damn.

3. I consider giving up because I don’t know, I’ll never know, I can’t possibly know and someone might discover that I don’t know and oh my god I’m supposed to know.  I should just find something else to do, go hide somewhere and let someone better take my place.

4. I realize that I want to know.

5. I read.

I’m reading now.  A lot. I’ll see you back at number one very soon, I’m sure.