David McElroy

I’ve probably been wrong more often than anybody I know.

I like to think that’s simply because I know my own thoughts. I know all the times when I’ve come to a firm conclusion about something — only to be forced to change what I believe as I learn more and gain more wisdom.

Maybe a lot of other people feel the same inside. Maybe they’ve seen themselves take dogmatic positions and then had to admit — at least to themselves — that they were wrong.

I fear, though, that most people believe they’ve rarely been wrong. At least about the “big things.”

I have a feeling that most people believe they were taught the truth early in life — because they happened to be born into the only group which was right — or else they broke away from whatever they were taught as children. Those in that second group seem to believe that whatever they decided to believe at that point in life is the truth.

Most people seem to believe they have life figured out. Most have little interest in understanding why other people see reality differently than they do. Even those who want to be honest and consistent in their beliefs resist change, because pride leaves us afraid to change when we discover we’ve been wrong.

I know what that feels like. That’s the way I lived for years. I was rarely wrong — in my own mind — because I rarely changed what I believed. One of the hardest things I ever learned is that growth and wisdom required me to accept that I’ve been wrong about much of what I’ve believed.

What’s more, I’m still wrong about some of the things I believe. I simply don’t know yet which of my beliefs are wrong.

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I don’t know why the image came to my mind while I slept. I hadn’t seen the photo for years, but I immediately knew what it was.

We were somewhere in the Caribbean on a cruise. At sunset one evening, we were on an upper deck enjoying the colors and the wind and the waves. Someone offered to take a photo of us and snapped this impromptu image. And for some reason, my mind brought this old photo to my consciousness while I slept.

As I awakened — with this image burned brightly into my mind — I heard some words very clearly. In my sleepy state, I made a quick note on my iPhone:

“Nobody’s ever good enough if perfection is the standard.”

I knew what it meant. I also knew I would think about it a lot more later. But I felt a sense of peace about it as I went back to sleep. Something in my unconscious was trying — once again — to teach me a lesson. It wasn’t really about her, though. It was about me.

It was about my terror of not being perfect — and about how my fears have affected women who’ve tried to love me.

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Elon Musk can be an eccentric jerk. He can also be a visionary who leads companies to great achievements. He does things that people say can’t be done. But he’s not always honest or reasonable about it, as I see it.

Musk has been a wildly successful creator. He’s gotten stunningly wealthy by betting on himself. I like and admire some of the things he’s done. I detest many of his actions at other times. I don’t see how anybody can admire him completely or reject him completely.

But Musk is a polarizing figure. Some people seem to worship him. Others seem to hate everything about him. And now that he’s buying Twitter, a lot of people are projecting their deep biases about the man onto their opinions about the purchase.

But the most bizarre thing about public commentary about Musk — and other wealthy people at times — is that so many otherwise-reasonable people have strong feelings about what he should do with his money.

Every time I see someone criticize Musk — for his space ventures or for his latest plan to buy Twitter, for example — I always ask one simple question.

Why do you care what Elon Musk does with his own money?

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