Originally published at
The Searcher Journal. You can comment here or
there.
It’s no secret I can come across as quite arrogant at times.
I won’t argue the fact, and, if you ask, I’ll be the first to tell you that yes, I actually am arrogant. But only in some circumstances.
There are a number of things I was apparently born good at or at least took to at an early age. Getting a quick feel for people, bouncing back from problems, thinking my way through problems, picking up new information, telling stories (both fact and fiction, for good or ill)… things like that I’ve been doing for most of my life.
Other things I’ve worked hard to become good at. Thinking (in general), really relating to people, finding things, digging to the root of problems, planning for the best results (mostly in business settings), organizing information, making things easier for other people to understand… some of it I went to school for, other bits I’ve picked up on my own.
Through finding out what I’m good at, though, I also discovered what I wasn’t good at.
Right there is the double-edged sword of self-knowledge.
You will never find me arguing in an arena I know I’m not at least above average in. Unless everyone else involved in the argument is even worse at whatever it is than I am. Thankfully, that doesn’t come up all that often.
Stepping up to lead is something I don’t particularly like to do. I’ll do it if I need to-to get something done, or to stop something from going too terribly wrong-but rarely will I volunteer or pursue such a thing from the start.
Why? Because while Pride may be my sin of choice, Vanity most certainly is not.
I don’t generally like being the center of attention. It causes too many problems in the long run. It sets up expectations that can’t always be met. And, perhaps most importantly, it puts my arrogance on display for all to see-and puts me in a position where I may lose what credibility I have when it comes to those things I am good at.
(That may sound like a fear of failure, but it’s not-it’s a fear of success. If I do very well and they know about it, people expect that to continue regardless of other circumstances. By staying out of the spotlight, any failures-be they my own fault or caused by others-remain low-key, too, don’t raise those expectations to impossible levels.)
Pride and Vanity often walk hand-in-hand. They inflate the ego and push their respective negative behaviors to stratospheric excess. The Vain call attention to themselves, parade their Pride for all to see. “Look at me!” they say. “See how good I am at this. See how pretty I am when do that.”
And when they stumble, everyone sees and everyone cheers.
Through taking careful stock of myself and by working to keep my ego in check, I’ve separated the two, sealed off my Pride from the fuel of Vanity. Oh, it still burns and urges me in bad directions at times, but it does not blaze and will not destroy me.
Yes, I can be arrogant. More often than not, it is that cousin of arrogance that so many don’t understand: self-confidence. Self-confidence is arrogance that has been earned. Pride, for sure, but without the sting an pomp of Vanity-instead, it is fed by the virtue of Knowledge.
Pride and Vanity have been the downfall of many on a spiritual path. They lose sight that, while they may be better at some things, they are not better at all things. They forget that the more people they show themselves to, the more they have to live up to. They forget that those who stand tallest and shout loudest about how great and beautiful they are are the first targets for those (often equally full of Pride and Vanity) with the opposite opinions.
They mistake Pride and Vanity for self-confidence and knowledge. They fool themselves into thinking that they really are that good, all the while falling further and further behind. Show takes presence over substance. Complexity obscures actual truth and usefulness. Eventually, all is lost in a spectacular failure that all the world gazes upon in wonder that it did not happen sooner.
There is a beauty in subtlety. A nuance that is lost in the flash of Vanity, blown away by the hot air of Pride.
We can all be humbled by that idea. And most of us probably should be.