My life has been a lot less stressful since I found the humility to admit that I’m often a fool.
There was a time when I was afraid of what other people might think. I wouldn’t have put it that way, but if you look at the way I acted, it’s pretty clear. What if people didn’t recognize how smart I am? What if people saw me change my mind about something and realized that I’d been wrong before?
I wanted people to believe I was completely consistent. If I had once said something, I felt obligated to defend it, because admitting I’d been wrong might imply I could still be wrong about other things.
So I pretended I had things figured out, even when I felt foolish inside.

Why does it feel so strange to lose homes we haven’t seen for years?
My drive to be perfect led to lack of compassion for self and others
Anarchist vs. minarchist debate misses the shift to post-statist world
Each unexpected death forces me to confront limits of my own life
My mother was more impressive than my father led me to believe
It’s great to visit Memory Lane, but it’s fatal to try to live there
I’m trying to do something new — and I don’t know what to call it
Can a free society tolerate intrusions into details of ‘The Lives of Others’?
Future reality starts in what we believe inside about who we are