Thursday

On Christian Arrogance
Nassim Taleb writes in the last part of Fooled by Randomness, "The epiphany I had in my career in randomness came when I understood that I was not intelligent enough, nor strong enough, to even try to fight my emotions. . . . I am incapable of training my emotions when reading [unsolicited and poorly-aimed comments about my ideas on randomness]. The best I can do is just not read them. Likewise with journalists. Not reading their discussions of markets spares me plenty of emotional expenditure. I will do the same with unsolicited comments on this book. Wax in my ears."
I've had a similar epiphany lately. I've come to realize that there are individuals who will spend the rest of their lives (well, the rest of my life; I hope they spare me at my eulogy) making digs at me and calling up errors I've made in the past. I've come to realize that I have a hard time dealing with athletic contests in which I have an emotional stake. I've come to realize that certain online forums will make me angry. I've come to realize that loud people will always grate on me.
For well over a decade, my response to all these things was one of Christian arrogance: I would use my Christian humility and goodwill to overcome, to forgive, to smile and think, "Christ put up with far worse." Problem is, the approach only worked during prayer and idle moments. When the heat of the moment arose unanticipated, the approach failed.
Now, I have little doubt that, by projecting myself into those situations and envisioning myself handling them with saintliness, I have improved my ability to deal with jagged situations. And I think I will continue to improve with years and prayer, but I don't have that many years and hours of prayer left. No matter how greatly I improve, I have no doubt that, come age 80, I'll still bristle at these inflammations.
So I embrace Taleb's disposition. Like Odysseus putting wax in his sailors' ears as they neared the island of the Sirens, I will put wax in my ears, which is a metaphor for "avoiding the situations." I know I can't avoid the situations entirely, but I will try. For those times that the wax falls out of my ears, I will depend on the fortitude developed during the quiet moments of life and (hopefully) resist the siren call to lose my temper.
But no more of that Christian arrogance. I've failed too many times to believe I can handle those bothersome situations with grace. It's time for true humility. . . if I can find it.