Not knowing is most intimate

One thing everyone I ever blocked on social media has in common: They acted as if they’ve got it all figured out. Usually, by generously pouring out the unending treasure of their wisdom to the helpless and clueless masses (me). Usually, in form of unsolicited advice.

Of course, I don’t know whether they actually felt like they’ve got it all figured out.

I’m sure some of them did. And I’m sure others had other reasons. Maybe a rotten school system taught them to pretend they have all the answers as if their life depended on it, and, never having learned better ways, they blindly executed the habits at me that formal education beat into them. Maybe they’ve been raised by an overworked alcoholic single mom and learned to step into the Rescuer-role all the time in order to keep things running and secure their place in the world. Maybe they’ve genuinely figured everything out except didactics, and I’d learn all the secrets of the universe if I just had more patience with their lack of social skills.

Maybe maybe maybe.

Either way: I won’t find out. I’ve blocked all of them. And my life is so much better for it.

(Stolen from Vivid Void)

I didn’t block them because they disagreed with me (though they might disagree with this claim). Not because I think I have it all figured out and am beyond learning.

The reason why I’ve blocked all of them is because I’m actually trying to figure it all out - and their overconfident yapping prevents me from thinking clearly. And, it makes it impossible for us to collaborate in seeking truth.

Because when someone is a know-it-all (and I’m speaking from ample first-person-experience here), I believe the implicit reasoning behind their generous disseminations of superior wisdom goes somewhat like this:

1. I got it all figured out.

2. Because I got it all figured out, everyone is lost and confused exactly insofar as they are different from me.

3. Therefore, the kindest thing I can do for you is to point out all the ways in which you are different from me. So that you can correct these errors.

Of course, each single one of these statements is bullshit.

People are different from each other because they have innate differences in talent and character. People are different from each other because they’ve grown up in, and learned to adapt to, different environments. People are different from each other because they have different values, preferences, priorities. Nobody is exactly like you, and nobody will ever profit from the exact same advice you would have needed to hear at any point in time.

But you won’t realize that as long as you still listen in order to respond rather than to understand.

Among others, false certainty serves a crucial psychological purpose: If you live with the unshakable conviction that everyone who disagrees with you is wrong, you never have to change your mind. You don’t have to confront your own uncertainty. And that’s great.

Because confronting your own uncertainty would be terrifying.

If you have built your whole identity on being smart or useful, not having an answer to something is basically the same as confronting your own imminent death.

That’s why in the Buddha club, we say that every fear is just a different facade for the fear of all fears: The fear of nonexistence. And we don’t like to live in constant fear. So we do all sorts of things to try and kill our fragile, angsty sense of self completely before our body stops kicking.

One thing I’ve found remarkably useful for that is paying close attention to where things don’t add up, where my view of reality has cracks and dissonances. As a former know-it-all, I find that incredibly taxing and scary. Therefore, I seek the company of people who are at least as good at it as I am, and avoid the company of those who - not so much.

I wish I was wise enough to teach those whose cup is already full about the value of not knowing. But I’m not. And what is true is already so, owning up to it doesn’t make it worse. So I do the second-best thing: Not waste my attention on know-it-alls.

If you want to turn from a wrinkly overgrown toddler into a true adult, letting go of false certainty is one of the most important steps. So important, indeed, that a whole bunch of classic sayings from Zen and other mystical traditions address it.

For example, remember the classic Koan:

Guichen asked, “Where are you going?”
Fayan replied, “On an ongoing pilgrimage.”
Guichen said, “Why do you go on pilgrimage?”
Fayan replied, “I don’t know.”
Guichen said, “Not knowing is most intimate.”
At these words Fayan instantly experienced enlightenment.