Socrates, as reported by Plato, went on record to have said, “The unexamined life is not worth living for a human being”. This has been my driving motivator, and chief justification, for journaling and blogging since 1991. Through doing so, I hoped, I would find myself, and my life would miraculously be worth living.
Twenty-two years hence, I’m left to call bullshit to Socrates’ sentiment.
Bullshit because the drive to know myself has left me more despondent, more guarded, more catatonic. The “ignorance is bliss” epithet reigns as the antidote to my doting. If I had examined my own head a lot less, there’s a possibility I’d have more time, and more confidence, to just get on with it and make life worthwhile.
Navelgazing has its place, but really the more I focus on myself, the more selfish I become. Some of that headstrong antidote would be good to have right now.