Smart Stupid

I used to think being smart was the ticket to almost everything.

That story about working hard, being smart and as a result success arrives on a platter, how I swallowed that story, hook, line and sinker.

Like most things, these simple myths strip complexity and nuance from the truth.

Smart is contextual. Smart is also partial.

I can be smart at certain things and agonisingly terrible at others. I have learned to laugh this off and enjoy my ineptitude, rather than feel the sting of shame that once plagued me.

I can be smart in some circumstances and lost in a fog in others. I find this endlessly amusing now.

My smartness can blind me. I can convince myself of smartness where it does not exist. Smartness and self-deception are common.

No one human in isolation can ever be as good as a group of other humans working together synergistically.

My smartness becomes better when I surround myself with others — not just other smart people, but people of all skills and capacities. This is both the paradox and the irony, seeded from humility.

Photo taken November 28th 2022

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