Soul Searching
“Men who believe themselves to be good, who do not search their own souls, often commit the worst atrocities. A man who sees himself as evil will restrain himself. It is only when we do evil in the belief that we do good that we pursue it wholeheartedly.”
– David Farland
“When a stupid man is doing something he is ashamed of, he always declares that it is his duty.” – George Bernard Shaw (1856-1950)
You, innocent reader, may find this difficult to believe, but there are those who will read these quotes and conclude that I am making a veiled comment about a subject that is dear to their heart and that I am espousing a side that opposes their own. Don't ask me how this happens or why. I know only that it does.
If I were guessing, I would suppose it's because guilt is a function of the mute, intuitive right-brain and our justification of “why we are right” – created by the brain's logical, left hemisphere – isn't quite enough to overcome it. Consequently, we are sensitive to criticism because we know deep down that we are incorrect, guilty, wrong.
We defend even when no one is attacking.
Have you ever seen two parties reconcile when both sides believed themselves to be entirely right? Have you ever seen one side of an argument convince the other side through debate? Yet we continue to pile high our evidence, thinking our opponent will say, “Oh, now I see the light. Thank you for pointing out to me how wrong I've been.”
Humility is an interesting attribute. Often seen as weakness, humility is actually the fruit of a deeper level of confidence and a higher level of thinking. When challenged, the small and insecure mind immediately becomes defensive and combative. But an expansive and secure mind will ask itself, “Do I really want to put my dog in this fight?” When the silent answer is, “No, this fight wouldn't be worth the trouble or the distraction. It would be a bad investment of my time, and time is the stuff life is made of,” we say, “Maybe you're right,” and the debate is ended. People call this humility.
But when the quiet answer is, “Yes, I will put my dog in this fight because what's at stake is worth the trouble,” then we see another fruit from the tree whose roots go deep and whose branches soar high. This second fruit is called patience. It allows us to stand firm in our convictions, never becoming frantic, anxious or shrill.
Humility and patience; are the roots of your confidence sunk deep enough and do the branches of your intellect soar high enough to produce these daring fruits?
Roy H. Williams
PS – Next week we'll talk about making money.