I realize now how ignorant I am.
At first, it was painful. Then, something tried to convince me it wasn’t so bad. It whispered, “It could have been a lot worse.”
I tried to calm myself, to boost my ego. It immediately attempted to change the subject, insisting on replaying past victories. It became apparent that this “something” was living inside me, trying to normalize my ignorance. It acted casually, as if nothing had happened.
— “Your ignorance is normal; you are overreacting!” it exclaimed.
I observed it in complete silence.
— “What are you?” I asked.
— “What do you mean? I’m your mind!” it replied.
It was clear that it wasn’t my mind. Intense, eccentric, and suffocatingly protective, I struggled to discern its motives.
— “Okay then. Why is ignorance acceptable?”
— “Because you can’t learn everything,” it snapped. “You should learn only what you need. Trying to understand it all? That’s crazy.”
— “Why?”
— “Because the world is too big. You would need three lifetimes to learn it all.”
I looked down at the light wooden floor and thought for a moment.
— “Are you scared we won’t make it?” I asked.
— “I’m not scared; I’m nervous you’re wasting time!”
— “And if I am… what does that change?”
— “You need stability!”
— “I’m sorry, but I know what I need. And you’ve never introduced yourself. Who are you, really?”
— “I told you! I’m your mind!”
— “That’s a lie,” I said softly. “I am the mind. I’m the one talking to you right now. We can’t both be the driver.”
— “Okay, okay… I’m your Fear.”
We sat quietly for several minutes.
— “Why did you lie to me?”
— “It’s my nature. I lie for your own good, to protect you from trouble. This world is full of it, you know.”
— “I know.”
— “Are you mad at me?”
— “No. Quite the opposite. I understand you better now that I realize we are separate. I feel sane. I actually… somewhat like you.”
The voice shifted, becoming disarmingly polite.
— “You really are such a nice fella. It was lovely living with you. I assume I have to move out now?”
— “I think that’s best for both of us.”
— “Can I come visit sometime? On Saturdays maybe, or when you’re traveling alone?”
— “You can. But I’ll contact you first to confirm the time. Okay?”
— “Okay!”
We hugged, and I closed my eyes for a moment.
Spring was running its sunny errands with cheerful birds and young green leaves. The window was ajar. I felt the slight breeze of cool air crawling on my shoulders.
I opened my eyes, and the Fear was gone.
