A seeker's confession

There is a certain type of individual who simply keeps me in awe: a person who claims to know what they know and believe. I'm not that kind of person. Regardless of how much I think I might know, regardless of how much I might learn or want to learn, regardless of how much insight I think I might have gained over the years, I'm always in doubt. Or, as Bertrand Russell put it, "The fundamental cause of the trouble is that in the modern world the stupid are cocksure while the intelligent are full of doubt."

Don't get me wrong: I'm not calling most people stupid, if if they are. It does strike me, however, that there are a lot of cocksure people in the world, and as far as I can tell, they've not got a clue what's going on. But that's a whole different matter, and for another time.

I have to admit as well that I have had few "heroes" in my life: individuals to whom I have looked up or whom I have admired, even from afar, but there is one who sticks out who raised himself above all others: Socrates. Why? Well, there are two reasons. First, because he's the one who first told us, "The only thing I know for sure is that I know nothing." Wise words, to be sure, and humble words, anything-but-arrogant words. Second, the only approach he took toward dealing with anything was by asking questions. When it came to questions, here was, without a doubt, the Master of Masters at work.

I am fully aware that other folks' heroes are doers of great deeds -- or at least perceived-to-be great deeds: generals, conquerors, founders of great religions, diplomats, intellectuals, whatever. The history of humankind is replete with examples of feats of strength, might, power, violence, murder, and blood. For me, though, the hero of heroes was an ugly guy with a shrew of a wife who asked a lot of questions that eventually got him executed. Why? Socrates was a seeker?

Seekers have fallen into disrepute in our day and age. We prefer those who know to those who wonder; we prefer those who speak to those who ask; we prefer those who are strong to those who are smart; we prefer -- let's be honest -- arrogance to humility. That's too bad, really, but seekers have always known that what the world wants/likes/honors/reveres, is very different from what it really needs.

Regardless, and nevertheless, it is becoming ever more clear that we are dying by our own hand; that what we think (want?) to know is false; that things/possessions/money can't bring us either happiness or salvation; that what one has is no match for what one can be; that all that bothers, troubles, and threatens us in the world is of our own making. Pogo was right, "We have met the enemy, and he is us." Whatever.

There is Truth and there are truths out there, and I refuse to stop looking for either.