n. the awareness of the smallness of your perspective, by which you couldn’t possibly draw any meaningful conclusions at all, about the world or the past or the complexities of culture, because although your life is an epic and unrepeatable anecdote, it still only has a sample size of one, and may end up being the control for a much wilder experiment happening in the next room.
Someone once said to a friend of mine, “I don’t like Nookie because she’s a know-it-all.”
And I get it.
I mean, I speak my mind, I defend my views. I write a lot. And I have a metric fuck-ton of opinions.
She’s wrong, though.
I’m not a know-it-all.
There are A LOT of things I don’t personally know anything about.
- Bullwhips and whipping (except for one experience).
- Being gender fluid, trans or non-binary.
- Soccer (except that the ONE live game I went to about 11 years ago was interminable, and that was the last date with THAT guy).
- Airplane repossession (except that it exists).
And so on.
More than that, though, I know very well I can be wrong, and often am. I also know I am not always clear when I think (feel deeply) I’m right.
In addition, I know beyond a shadow of a doubt that what is right for me is not always right for others.
That does not and will not stop me from writing.
However, I write with the intention of inspiring thought, not necessarily changing it.
With the idea that sharing new perspectives makes the world a better place.
With the hope that things I have learned may help others in their journeys, whether they agree or not.
With the desire to debate and discuss, and learn others’ points of view and methods of reasoning.
And I only write about things that interest me, that I want to learn about, or have spent time researching and learning about myself.
I am not a know-it-all.