When I contemplate the breadth and depth of my wisdom, I marvel like unto one beholding for the first time the Grand Canyon, or the moon through a telescope, or a full-grown white shark, moving unstoppably toward its goal.
What don’t I know? Love, God, relationships, art, why we are here, what we are to do … Chinese food on a budget. I know it all. I’m never in doubt as to which thoughts or feelings are best. Such knowledge, for me, is instinct.
I discern; I commit; I execute; I move on. I don’t look back. The whole concept of regret bores me.
Life for me is a never-ending series of validations of who I am.
I am, in word, perfect.
And maintaining for myself the validity of that truth takes nothing more than summarily dismissing anything and everything that in any way challenges my conviction that there is absolutely nothing about me that could in the slightest measure bear improving.
What a painless price to pay for a consistently affirming experience.