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.

We know our world must change, but we keep saying, ‘yes, but…’
We who believe life has meaning have lost war for modern culture
This burning question divides us: Why can’t you people be like me?
When you’re finally facing death, how many people will love you?
If you ask wrong questions about politics, you’ll get wrong answers
If you’re waiting to be rescued, what are you still waiting for?
Predictions of doom keep failing, so isn’t it rational to doubt them?
What if the best you can offer to someone will never be enough?
If Ron Paul was ‘our last hope,’ what’s your backup plan now?