I spent years working on being the smartest person in the room. Going to school, the office, a fucking funeral — I viewed it all as an opportunity to don the mental athletic gear and be prepared to spar heavily around the water cooler or the hors d’oeuvres table.
I needed to know about current events and the latest trends. I had books like The Straight Dope and An Incomplete Education, so that I would be ready to strike down any possible myths and false information.
I was a shield-wearing, club-carrying member of the grammar police.
And it, all of it, was exhausting.
When I got sober, almost 25 years ago, I was asked by people wiser than I: Would you rather be right or would you rather be happy?
The answer was happy. Those books were given away. I stopped correcting people. I even stopped correcting their grammar (except the stuff I was paid to correct because, y’know, editor).
It was incredibly liberating.
Then, about 15 years ago, my husband and I gave up cable TV. Reality shows, which are about as real as professional wrestling, are sewers clogged with snarkiness, one-upmanship, and bring out the worst in the people who watch them — a sort of guilty “I went to the freak show” admission coupled with the rude rubbernecking at the scene of an accident. And TV news, for the most part, is twice as bad.
But secretly, underneath the smiles and nods, I was still the smartest person in the room. I just didn’t need to prove it to anyone.
Today, I strive to be the dumbest person in the room. I do! I listen to the occasional news broadcast just to make sure that a hurricane or bomb isn’t about to destroy my house, but I don’t engage. I don’t invest. I don’t hand over the little calm I’ve managed to accumulate and let it become even an ounce of fuel for the race cars on the superhighway of endless, joy-killing, fear-inducing information.
When you take the condor perspective, as I was taught in The Jaguar Path, and fly above looking down, you can see that yes, this — all of this that is happening everywhere — is a pattern and yes, it actually has happened before, repeatedly, over millennia, since we were monkeys. I will not offer one moment of my time to give any kind of shoving match my attention. I do not keep up with speeches and stumping. My anger or indignation, my knowledge of the latest fist-biting act of stupidity, does nothing but rob me of my peace. I see my friends who watch endless TV news become wild-eyed and haggard — for what? What have they gained? And, more importantly, what have they lost?
Now, when I go to a party or an event, I’m not drawn into the discussions about politics or current trends. Transactional events hold no mystery or interest for me. It feels like gossip — “Did you hear…?” I have no tolerance for any kind of bullying — making fun of the way someone in power looks, or their body shape, no matter who they are or how “bad” they are — it just instantly makes me shut down. Or the jousting matches disguised as discussions, as people use the lance of knowledge to silence their opponents. I turn it off and look around.
I find I am drawn to the people who are also observing. The ones with the twinkle in their eyes and a gentle smile on their lips. Inevitably we strike up a meaningful conversation — the only kind I can stomach now. My central nervous system simply cannot take the stress of being intellectually competitive. (More about my CNS, and possibly yours, here.)
I. Just. Cannot.
We need the angry ones — they are the ones that fight for change, who forge ahead with a sword in their hand. And we need the correctors, because they keep things honest. But, today, it doesn’t have to be me.
...or ME! I'd ALWAYS rather "happy than right" My favorite slogan for quite some time...