Tuesday, January 19, 2016

Hubris: the lies we tell ourselves

My best friend told me that pride would be my downfall. The incessant need to always be right. 4 years ago, I never understood how that could be a bad thing. I felt that I see clearer than others, knew more, could reason better.

I was invincible.

Yet, also incredibly idiotic.

I can't exactly pin down the day I turned around. I think rejection helps. I've always had my lack-of-lovers-rant keep me grounded that I'm not as awesome as I think I am. It will always be a trouble to accept that part of me, to swallow hubris and come down from my false pedestal.

I am not the king of anything.

Of course now when I recognise hubris in others, it makes it doubly tragic. Yet, I have the humility now to accept the things I can't change, and while I may be their friend and sometimes counselor, I cannot decide for them that the best way is to punish them with "wise words" of "having been there" and make them come to relevation how much their arrogance have hurt those around them.

They may not sincerely care, especially when we're in the zone of the Mountain King (insert Edward Grieg music please).

If I may bottom-line my observations about hubris, it's stems from the Self. The protective need to defend the shell of a person we've created. Smart people have been defined by others and themselves and attribute their achievements to their Being. While those who have consistently failed, have a certain type of note that makes me arrogant because the alternative is unthinkable. To admit that one is a failure is crippling, especially when we're reminded by greatness all the time.

So hubris, while is also a personality trait, is simultaneously the lies we tell ourselves. We create roles or fantasies to assure ourselves. Because they are roles, we can afford not to take ownership of our mistakes, we can afford to blame the invisble "others". We find all kinds of justifications to assure that our fantasies hold water, do not break down due to inherent contradictions.

After a while, we become our lies, and we live is as truth. We devoid ourselves of peace. The paranoia takes over. People are always against you, or are too stupid to understand what you're saying, or do not necessarily see things your way because your logical reasoning reigns supreme.

The most dangerous part is that there is enough droplets of truth in there, to tinge the whole ocean red. It is the assumption and generalisation of some truths that holds up this lie. A person may be exceptionally smart that can pull this off. After all, the best stories are the ones that are littered with enough truth, created under different contexts and based on entirely fraudulent assumptions.

The best lies we tell ourselves are based on fact.

The emperor's clothes is a story of our pathos, and we strut around naked. A laughingstock, and while some may shrug it off and think that being accepted by everyone us overrated (rightfully so), they are also mirrors. Their reaction might be dumb, but their motivations for doing so are not.

Arrogance creeps up on us, and the best of us fall like Troy. There is no shame in admitting you have a problem, or that you're really not that good at it. It's perfectly okay to say that you hate yourself, your life and for everyone to keep telling you what you can and cannot do. But never cheat yourself of living a full life. A meaningful life, a truthful life. We suck, and it's okay. The best will accept the worst of you anyway, and the worst won't blink at your best.

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