I love being right

I have always loved being right. Often, my righteousness comes with a taint of smug superiority, especially when I am proven right.

I have known for a long time that my righteous superiority is a fault line in my character.

Righteousness removes possibility of others contribution to a conversation that may prove emergent.

Righteous superiority headhunting with equally fierce righteous superiority is war.

Any superiority removes dignity from others and is a danger to humanity’s existence and viability.

Little Atrocities are when we step over the first act of superiority in ourselves and others, considering them insignificant. They are never insignificant. They are a monster in an ant costume.

I look at the word, stepping today across another threshold of discovery back into familiar home territory, and I acknowledge the fractals in the fractals of how I live.

My righteousness is a fractal of the righteousness of lunatic dictators, unhinged political leaders, and hard “right’ ideologies. (This is the first time I have seen the pun in the word right used in this case — yet we have an equal measure of righteousness in the hard left.)

When we move to the extreme of polarity, no matter which side, we eliminate with a single gesture all the nuance that makes us human, that makes life life. We reduce the glorious diversity of everything, everywhere, all of time.

Having come face to face with my righteous superiority these last few weeks in trying to figure out how to navigate Japan — a subject I had zero knowledge of, I return to the practice of stepping back and considering my righteousness as wrongness.

Humility is the ground and eternal practice.

I will go home and clean the toilet and wash floors, remembering who I am.

Photo Taken November 18th 2023

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